Atop a hill overlooking the Caribbean Sea — an unnamed elevation Ramon Cebrian calls “a dark mountain,” symbolic of the spiritual darkness overtaking his life — a voodoo priest was indoctrinating his young novice into the treacherous tentacles of witchcraft. Ramon first turned to witchcraft as a young man trying desperately to get to the United States.

Growing up in Communist-ruled Cuba, Ramon thought little of God, if at all. By his own admission, the Bible was “just another book.”

If anything resembled a prayer at all, it was his fervent desire to someday make it to America. As he reached adulthood, his “voodoo prayers” had not yet been answered. At least, a kind lady put forward the cash to enable Ramon to leave Cuba to work in the Dominican Republic. Once there, he worked as a refrigerator mechanic while constantly petitioning the government there for passage to the United States.

And he continued practicing voodoo.

“I was promised by a witch doctor that constant voodoo prayers and blood sacrifices would guarantee I could immigrate — at least to Puerto Rico,” Ramon says. Desperate, he provided the live chicken and an assortment of herbs for the ritual. He then had to take the remains and bury them.

Falling deeper into that evil practice, he began collecting the necessary tools needed to hone his wicked craft. But it wasn’t long before Ramon began to get dubious of these rituals.

“I did not know God,” Ramon says, “but I was aware of the possibility of His existence. A Christian pastor had been witnessing to me and even gave me a Bible. Also, I was working in a hospital, and there was a patient there, an old man, who also witnessed to me every day.”

The rituals seemed to work only rarely, so Ramon began to doubt if this was the right way to get his prayers answered.

“I sent up my idea of a prayer and promised God that if He helped me, I would spend my life in His service.”

That promise marked a turning point. Ramon destroyed his collection of witchcraft items and “left forever that dark mountain.” On that dark night, he walked down that mountain and found a light coming from a house. Fortunately, the couple living there were Christians, and they fed him, gave him a place to sleep, and the next morning, the husband drove Ramon into town to a safe place.

“God went straight to work after my promise to Him, because He sent me to those wonderful people. For the life of me, I cannot remember where that house is, or even their names!”

Not long after, he was able to move to Guatemala and walked all the way into Mexico, where he hoped he could finally enter the United States after meeting extensive restraints in place at that time. Once his application was later approved, he made his way to Dodge City, Kansas, to stay with his brother.

There, he met The Salvation Army.

“I had shelter living with my brother and sister-in-law, but I felt bad about not being able to contribute food for the family and me,” Ramon  says. “So, I was told The Salvation Army would be able to help, but I thought that being an ‘army’ that it was something military.”

To his surprise, he discovered that this “army” is a church, and when he was asked if he wanted someone to pray with him, he said yes.

“Someone in uniform came to me, and the first words out of his mouth were ‘God loves you.’ After he prayed with me, he asked me if I’d like to come to church, just to try it out. I found a welcoming corps family there.”

That man was Major Joaquin Rangel, the Dodge City corps officer. Later that year, Ramon attended a divisional men’s camp and officially gave his heart to Christ. 

“It was the most beautiful feeling I’ve ever had,” he recalls. ”A sensation of peace and security. It was like taking off dirty clothes and putting on a set of clean clothes,” Ramon describes. “I was later enrolled as a senior soldier by General Linda Bond in June 2013, at the Central Territorial Congress held that year in St. Louis.”

Major Rangel continued to mentor Ramon in the years that followed. Upon his commissioning as a Salvation Army officer, Ramon honored the major by naming him his Silver Star recipient, an honor typically reserved for parents or spiritual mentors.

Despite what he was told when he was into voodoo, since the night he destroyed his witchcraft paraphernalia, he’s never felt a moment “haunted” with fear or retribution from the enemy.

“I made a promise to God that if He were real, to reveal Himself to me and that I would serve Him all my life. He did, and I’ve found that the only thing God requires of us is surrendered obedience to His will. I have kept that promise!”

The mission and the ministry of The Salvation Army treat everyone in the name of Christ without discrimination. Ramon says. “The Army is the only church I’ve ever attended, but I need look no further because there I’ve found everything I need, both physically and spiritually.”

Lieutenant Ramon Cebrian says his conversion from witchcraft to Christ could not be more diametrical. 

“I went from being a son of evil to being changed into a son of God!”

Two of Ramon’s prayers continue to be: to write a book about what God has done in his life and serve with his wife Ely as missionaries to their native Cuba.

“The most wonderful thing about the Christian life” he says, “is that besides being God’s children, when we live in obedience to Him, everything is possible!”