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Medjugorje Testimony of Michael K. Jones
founder of Medjugorje USA &  Purgatory Oblation Warrir (POW) Prayer Group

I'm a Believer
These days it would seem we need to stand up and say, "I am a believer." The events in my life in regard to Medjugorje are events untouched by human hands. These events changed my life forever. I could never not believe, what I know is.

Please do not think I am proud or boastful for the miracles God has worked in my life. Nor is the following an attempt to make others envious.

I am reminded of the many miracles Jesus performed during His ministry. Some of those who received miracles were told by Jesus to show themselves to the elders. This was done as a witness and testimony. We also learn in Scripture that works without deeds are lost in themselves.

Therefore, as I am compelled to make note of miracles in my life, I must let the reader know that I have no control over those who receive them and those who do not. It is not my place to question the who, what, when, where and why's. God sends miracles to whom He will. These things are for God to decide.

So I ask the reader to consider these things before reading on. I know that my attempt to share these happenings will fall far short of the actual events themselves. Even so, in all humility I write them as witness and testimony. Thank You. Michael

Having been healed (by God) of a heart attack in 1984, (while I set out to prove God did not exist,) I would often tell the story of my conversion. Being self-employed, in late spring 1989, I told a lady I was working for about my attempt to prove God was not real. I told her that during this time I had a heart attack and entreated God to prove to me He was real. I mentioned the tingling that started in my feet and raced through my body leaving me with a feeling of poison flying out of the top of my head. The next following day I had an appointment with a heart surgeon to discuss the placement of a pacemaker in my heart. I told the doctor there was no longer any need to consider this procedure because God had healed me. The surgeon looked at the ekg and told me such things are not possible and my ekg clearly showed a myocardial infraction. Strangely enough the surgeon decided to give me another ekg which puzzled him as it showed no signs of the myocardial infraction. He sent me for an appointment to have a dye test (which looks at the workings of the heart) and the end result showed no signs of the previous myocardial infraction.

The lady I was working for was a Catholic and was moved by my testimony. Upon finishing the work I did for her, she handed me an envelope. Inside were clippings from her weekly Catholic newspaper. She said that the clippings were about the pilgrimages to a place where apparitions of the Virgin Mary were said to be taking place. I took the envelope thanking her, but I did not understand why she had done this. When I got home that night, I put the envelope on the bottom shelf of my coffee table and thought no more about it.

A few weeks later (while in prayer) I heard a voice that said, "I want you to go to Medjugorje." At first I ignored the voice but the voice remained insistent. The voice continued over the next few weeks often waking me in the middle of the night. Upon waking me, the voice would tell me to look at the clock. I did, and found the numbers to be of equal value, example: 1:11, 2:22, 3:33, and so on. The voice would then say, "I want you to go to Medjugorje."

One evening while talking to my sister who lives 100 miles away, I told her about the voice I was hearing. I tried to pronounce the word Medjugorje but I could not remember it. I figured my sister would think I was going crazy. Surprisingly she said to me, "Oh Medjugorje, I heard of that place."

She told me of a priest named Father Kelly. He was the priest who was supposed to officiate the wedding of my sister and her fiancee, Dennis. However a mix-up took place. On the wedding day itself, Father Kelly was on his way to Medjugorje with a group of pilgrims. This is how my sister came to know about the word "Medjugorje."

Now with my sister's confirmation of this word Medjugorje, I needed to understand the message this voice was sending me. I asked my brother-in-law, Dennis, to set up an appointment with Father Kelly. After a weeks time I called to see if this arrangement had been made. Dennis said that Father Kelly was a very busy man, and it was most likely he would not be able to see me. As I put down the phone, I wondered what to do next. Sitting on the couch, I noticed the envelope of the lady I had worked for weeks before on the bottom shelf of my coffee table. On the envelope was written the word Medjugorje. As I looked at the envelope, I knew, whatever I was looking for was inside.

I opened the envelope and saw several ads offering tours to Medjugorje. I started to read one which was printed in big letters saying, "Medjugorje and Rome for $1219.00." I knew somehow I was going on that trip. As I continued to read, the ad said, "under the direction of Father Arnold E. Kelly, St. Rita's Church, Lowell, MA." This was the same priest I was trying to get an appointment with.

I was astonished. This whole matter seemed like a story out of the Twilight Zone. I mean, a lady I did work for handed me an envelope for no reason at all. After which, I heard this voice telling me I have to go to this place called Medjugorje, a name I couldn't even pronounce. Then weeks later I called my sister and learned that this certain priest had been to this very same place the voice was telling me to go. In the envelope was an ad for a pilgrimage to Medjugorje by the very same priest my sister knew. I was amazed at all these events knowing that Father Kelly lived 100 miles away from the lady who had given me the envelope with the ads. I ask you, what are the chances?

I called up my brother-in-law again insisting for an appointment with Father Kelly. Shortly thereafter I met Father Kelly. Though I was not a Catholic at that time, I signed up for the September 1989 pilgrimage to Medjugorje after my talk with Father Kelly. After signing up, information about Medjugorje seemed to come out of nowhere, in a series of strange event. Meantime, the voice that spoke to me remained silent.

We were just starting our journey to Medjugorje. We were on the bus headed for Bostonís Logan Airport. Father instructed the people on the bus to take out their Rosary so we could pray together. During the Rosary prayers I noticed the first miracle. The chain links on my Rosary turned to a gold color.

The second miracle came after our arrival in Medjugorje. I was engulfed in the smell of roses. This happened several times during my pilgrimage. At first I thought it was perfume. Yet when the smell reached my nose there was a fragrance that was beyond words. Other people standing around me also noticed the heavenly fragrance and commented. My theory of perfume was discarded when I was engulfed in a rose fresh fragrance without a soul around me.

The first evening a few of us went to the church (Saint James) in Medjugorje. Some of the pilgrims from our group were already there. One of them looked at me with tears in her eyes saying, "look at the sun." I looked, not expecting to see what I saw. The sun was rotating as if it were sending circles of itself to the earth. There was a round disc floating inside the sun. The sun changed colors, causing no harmful effect to my eyes. I felt the need to tell people, "look at the sun." I turned to tell them and noticed hundreds of people already watching, some with tears flowing down their cheek. Every face I saw had a look of awe.

The morning of the first day Father Kelly walked smilingly up to me. He knew I prayed the Rosary though I was not Catholic and I did not go to church. He placed his hands on my shoulders shaking me, saying, "I hope Jesus tears you apart." My roommate, Bill, knew Father Kelly so I asked him what Father meant by his actions. He said he did not know but I should pray over it.

A few days later we went to visit Father Jozo. He was the priest in charge of the parish of Saint James when the apparitions first started. Father Jozo did not speak English, and had a translator. At one point in a church of hundreds of people, Father Jozo looked directly at me. My roommate Bill confirmed this by elbowing my right side saying, "He was looking right at you when he said that." When the translator spoke, the message was, "Do not be afraid, the Blessed Mother will break you apart."

I recalled Father Kelly saying, "I hope Jesus tears you apart," just days before. Now a few days later Father Jozo who is from another country, does not speak English and did not know Father Kelly, was telling me the Blessed Mother would break me apart. I was frightened and confused. There were too many things happening to me that just made no sense at all.

It was September 25, 1989. We heard a rumor that the Blessed Mother would appear to the seers on Apparition Hill, (Mt. Podbodo). The pilgrims were invited. A few fellow pilgrims and I climbed the Hill of Apparitions early that evening. We sat on the rocks and waited. As it grew near to the apparition time the side of the mountain filled with people.

A singing prayer group came up the mountain shortly after we did. They sat about twenty feet in front of me. One member of the group had a guitar. He played it and everyone on the mountain sang religious songs. It was a very moving and holy experience. Try to imagine the singing voices of people from all over the world, unable to speak to each other, but united by singing the same song, yet in different languages. There are no words to describe the experience.

The mountain started to fill with what seemed to be thousands of people. A large number of pilgrims were trying to get closer to the singing prayer group. I guess they thought they would see one of the visionaries. They were very pushy and shoved me time and time again. I was angry over this and said something to one of them. Instantly I was disappointed at my anger.

As the prayer group and pilgrims sang, I went into prayer asking God to forgive me for my anger. My prayer was very deep but for one moment I realized I could no longer hear singing, instead I heard the Rosary being recited. I realized time had passed unaware while I was in prayer. I immersed myself back into prayer, I found myself in a place I had never been before. It was a place of great inner peace. All of a sudden I heard a voice speak to my heart saying, "Michael, you are at peace." At that moment I was overwhelmed with a great sense of serenity. I knew then for the first time in my life what true peace really was.

In my tranquillity I asked God again to forgive my anger. I said to him in silent prayer, "you know Lord, these people are wrong in what their are doing. If only they would ask in some way, I would move off the far side of the mountain and gave them my spot." At that very moment I heard an exterior sound. Someone was walking pass me again. I smiled and said to myself, "I am at peace." Without warning I heard a voice. In English this exterior voice said, "Please." I came out of my prayer, opened my eyes, and before me on his knees was Ivan the visionary, with his arms outstretched towards the ground next to me. I nodded somehow knowing that he was asking to pray in that spot.

As he kneeled and prayed on the rocks, I looked around me wondering if anyone else knew he was there. After kneeling he hunched over low to the ground in prayer. It was now very dark and I could not see more than a person or two away from me. Somehow it seemed I was the only one who knew Ivan was there.

Suddenly someone from the singing prayer group shouted out in several languages, "The Blessed Mother is about to appear, everyone please get on your knees."

As I knelt down, I felt my left knee pressing on a sharp jagged rock. I felt pain instantly. However, before I could adjust myself, Ivan the seer (who was still bowing low to the ground), came up (on his knees) touching the left side of my body. I was afraid to move as I thought it might interrupt his prayer and or vision. So I kept my left knee on the sharp rock.

The mountain was full of what seemed to be a couple of thousand people, though I do not know for sure. It was so quiet that you could hear the flickering of the candles in the soft breeze.

A blue light appeared, followed by a sound that I can only describe as thunder. I have never heard anything like it before or since. This happened three times and I was frightened, by what I saw and heard. For a brief moment I thought it was the end of the world. Then I remembered (having read it somewhere) that this phenomenon happens just before the Lady appears, yet few people witness it, except for the seers themselves.

I looked at the face of Ivan. His eyes did not blink. He nodded slightly, moving his lips but there were no words. Though I looked at the direction he was staring, I did not see the Lady. My thoughts were now focused on the pain which extended through my entire left side. I still did not move.

 

When the vision was over, my pain was unbearable. I was asking God to help me. My whole left side was now completely numb. I was unable to stand, and for some reason I could not speak. Ivan started to walk away. He had taken one step when he stopped, looked up in the sky, then turned looking at me. He walked back placing his hands under my left arm and lifting me up, and walking away.

I looked around to see if anyone had witnessed this event. There was a girl, about sixteen, she was part of our group. When our eyes made contact I saw tears streaming down her face. I knew in my heart that she had seen what had happened. She was my witness. She ran into my arms sobbing, and I hugged her. I cried without control. I was broken apart by my experience.

People gathered around me offering me tissue, asking me what happened. I don't know what I said, if I said anything at all. But I do know this. As Father Kelly said, "I hope Jesus tears you apart," and as Father Jozo said, "The Blessed Mother will break you apart," on the evening of September 25, 1989, I was torn and broken apart by Jesus and the Blessed Mother. Even now as I write this my eyes swell with tears.

Later having returned home I told a friend about this event. He asked the following questions:

1) "You said the people on the mountain spoke different lanugages. If you were praying silent prayer, and Ivan spoke to you saying, 'please', how did he know you spoke English?"

I believed God was confirming my prayer. Many people on the mountain that night were thinking only of themselves. I believe these selfish people were not aware of what they did because they were wrapped up in their selfish deeds. They should have asked permission to pass. I believe God had Ivan show me the way these people should have conducted themselves. This is how Ivan knew he should speak in English. I believe God saw me asking forgiveness for my anger and he responded saying, my anger was indignation.

2) "When Ivan lifted you up did you still have pain on your left side from the rock?"

I never felt another moment of pain from the time I was on my feet. All pain, suffering and numbness were gone. In fact I never thought about the pain on my left side again until I was asked this question.

3) I was asked, "What do you think this all means?"

To me it is confirmation. The voice that told me to go to Medjugorje was quite real, and not from my imagination. For obeying the voice, I was blessed and given much grace.

4) My friend pointed out; "If Ivan came back to lift you up, then the Blessed Mother knew you were hurt, she must have sent Ivan back to help you." He also noted; "if she saw Ivan, and you were right next to him then she saw you too."

Yes the Blessed Mother knew that I was there because it was the will of God that I was there. Yes if she saw Ivan she had to see me as well. This and the voice of Jesus which said to me, "Michael, you are at peace," are the things that tore and broke me apart. In this I know that I was seen and heard by heavenly hosts. Confirmation came from the actions of Ivan, the loss of pain on my left side, and the sixteen year old witness.

 

I don't know what happened to other pilgrims that night, all I know is that God showed me favor. I don't know why. I don't deserve it.

This is the message that the Blessed Mother gave to the world that night; "Dear children, today I invite you to give thanks to God for all the gifts that you have discovered in the course of your life, and even for the least gift that you perceived. I give thanks with you and want all of you to experience the joy of these gifts, and I want God to be everything for each one of you, and then little children you can grow continuously on thy path of holiness. Thank you for responding to my call."

It was about our third or fourth day in Medjugorje. We were going to climb Cross Mountain (Mt. Krezevac) for the first time. We went as a group. The climb was exhaustingly difficult and the morning sun was warm.

I noticed an older woman with our group who was having trouble climbing. I slowed down and fell behind the pack and asked if I could help her. She told me she was okay. She said she was not going to the top of the mountain anyway. Her name was Gay.

I thought, why would someone climb only part way? I believe Gay was embarrassed because the climb was so difficult. She felt she was not capable of making the steep and rocky climb. I told her I would be grateful if she would let me help her. I said, "you will be doing me a bigger favor than I will be doing for you." She smiled, and off we went.

After climbing for a while I could see that Gay was losing hope. Shortly thereafter she said, "I'm not going to make it." Moments later on our left side of us, was a rather large sized framed lady with gray hair. She was sitting on a rock with a wooden walking stick in her hand. This lady said something to us which was hysterically funny. Gay and I laughed and continued up the mountain. We talked about how funny the lady was.

This large framed gray hair lady with a walking stick showed herself three times. This happened whenever Gay was losing hope. Then it hit me like a ton of bricks. If Gay and I were always passing by this lady, how was this lady always getting in front of us?

Gay was losing hope for the fourth time. There sitting on a rock, this most unusual lady appeared again. This time she did not look at us or attempt to make us laugh as the previous occasions. This time her head was bowed looking toward the ground. She held the walking staff in both hands with her forehead against the stick. I told Gay to wait a second and I waited until the lady looked up at us. When she looked up the smile on her face was like a child who got caught with her hand in a cookie jar. I looked at her smiling and I said, "Well, come on, your suppose to make us laugh." A big smile came on her face and she again sent us up the mountain in laughter.

(As I revise the sentence structure of this document for my website I am reminded of this event which happened in September 1989. It is now 1999, and I must confess, I am quite emotional when I recall this.)

The next time Gay and I spotted this extraordinary lady we sat and chatted with her for a moment. She told us she had never been to the top of the mountain. She said, and I quote, "I might get there some day."

The next time I saw her was about 75 feet before the top of the mountain. Gay did not see her this time but I did. She looked at me, shut her eyes and nodded her head once, she opened her eyes again and smiled at me.

I brought Gay to the top of the mountain, she was very excited saying, "I made it!" I left Gay there and headed back down the mountain. I wanted to talk to the lady some more, but when I turned around, I could not see her. I knew there was no way for her to climb up to the mountain without me seeing her, then I remembered her telling me she had never been to the top. Quickly I ran down the mountain about a quarter mile but the Lady was nowhere to be found.

There is no doubt in my mind that this lady which I have called her is more a "Lady with a capital." I believe in all my heart that she is an angel in the flesh. She gave hope to Gay, hope when all hope seemed to be lost. She brought Gay to the top of the mountain with joy and laughter. I will always remember her face and her kindness. To me, She was, and is, and to me will always be, the Lady of Comfort and Joy.

One day three of us climbed the mountain of the cross, (Mt. Krezevac). At the top of the mountain we had gone our separate ways. I was standing by the right side of the cross taking pictures of the miracle of the sun. I turned to a voice that said, "Hello, my name is Agnes." I said hello and told her I was not trying to be rude but I had to take pictures of the sun. Agnes said, "do not be concerned, God will give you the pictures He wants you to have." She gave me a flower and told me God loves me. She said God wanted me to have the flower. I said thank you. Then she said, "I have to go now." When I looked for her a moment later she was gone.

On the way down the mountain, one of the men I had gone up the mountain with, told a story which goes like this: "I was sitting on a rock. I heard a loud cry. I walked to the back side of the mountain. There I saw a donkey crying and acting unnatural. I saw a woman walk over to the donkey touch his forehead and the donkey was ---( he said hesitatingly)--- at peace!

The woman saw me, smiled, and said I should come and pat the donkey, I did. As we were talking, a boy came over. He got on his knees before the woman and offered her some flowers. The boy spoke another language, I did not understand him. The woman looked at him and said, 'I do not exchange money on this Holy Mountain.' The boy acted as if he understood and offered the flowers to her again. She accepted them and the boy left.

She gave me one of the flowers and said it was a gift from God, then she said she had to go to the other side of the cross, and she left. Her name was Agnes." I then told him I meet Agnes on the other side of the cross. I mentioned what she said to me and about the flower she gave me.

For the rest of our visit in Medjugorje the man who met the Lady and the donkey took on a different look. He was a deacon in a church (I believe) and to this day I can still see the look on his face as he looked into my eyes and said, "Michael, she is the holiest person I ever met in my life."

I meet Agnes again when we were an hour away from leaving Medjugorje. My roommate was following me around because I tearfully told everyone I didn't want to go home. As I remember this moment, a tear comes to my eye, even now.

My roommate, Bill, walked with me to Saint James Parish one last time. While walking back to the house where we were staying, I was again telling Bill I did not want to leave. The tears were swelling up in my eyes again. All of a sudden, Bill said, "Michael I think someone is calling you." I turned around and there was Agnes. As I walked closer to her she must have seen my sadness. She hugged me and as she was doing so, whispered in my ear saying, 'You have to go home now and spread the message.' My sadness left me, and Agnes walked away with two nuns dressed in Habit.

As I reflect on this, I wonder. How can a woman, who briefly touches my life on top of a mountain in a strange land, be able to recognize me from my back side several days later, and then remembers my name, knows what I am feeling, and tells me that I have to go home to spread the message? What are the chances?

There are many other things that happened in Medjugorje, to other pilgrims as well as to myself. Many seemed to receive their own personal gift, meant just for them. These special gifts were beyond any normal comprehension, which made us all wonder in awe.

Upon returning home, and after developing the pictures, I discovered that some photos have strange images on them. I had copies made of one such picture and other people have found other images in the same photos as well.

I took these pictures with a brand new roll of film and no one has been able to give me a logical explanation of the images. Even so, there is an answer and the explanation is quite simple. Just as Agnes said on the mountain, "God will give you the pictures that He wants you to have."

After having witnessed it first hand, there is no question in my mind that Medjugorje is Holy Ground!

If you would like to write Medjugorje USA
email:info@medjugorjeusa.org