| Help | Login | Register | View Cart | Inbox | 0 Online
/video channel /int aid /whats on /worship 24 7 /free dvds /outreach speakers /gospel raph /PRAYER REQUEST


Members can add testimonies. Register here or Login here.

A DIAMOND IN THE ROUGH - Daniele Luciano Moskal

Change Viewing Font Size Here: Default 14px 16px 18px
My earthly father, when he was alive gave me three beautiful statements (wise nuggets of very good advice), for me to take on board my life.

(I was a huge lover of Milk; often drinking 11 pints a day!)

.........After these great words of wisdom, I decided to return into higher education in the month of September of 1993, as a mature student to hopefully gain a BA Degree in Writing & Publishing & Media Studies, and, also to sort my life out from a history of over 25 years of serious football (soccer) violence, crime and disorder. From a very early age, approximately five years old, I had been picked upon by boys much bigger than myself or older in my schooling years, and subjected to a lot of physical and cruel verbal abuse - simply due to my parents being from different European countries. My father was Ukrainian and my mother was Italian; I myself was the only child in my family of another brother and three sisters who was born in Italy. There wasn't a single day of respite from the abuse I suffered regularly on a daily basis, and I would often come home battered and bruised; with black eyes, swollen lips and cuts. My father who was a strict disciplinarian would makes things worse for me by telling the culprits I would fight everyone of them 'one-at-a-time', when they came knocking at our front door! I decided enough was enough, and I asked my father for one favour. At the age of eleven, I asked him if he would purchase me a set of bodybuilding weights and barbells, so I could start to build up my body, (I was a very slim child for my age group). He agreed. Having got my brand new set of weight-training equipment, I attacked the weights like a man possessed, and started to build my body into a new ‘Hercules’, a very muscular man.

Devouring books like water, I bought and borrowed anything from shops and libraries I could get my hands upon to further my cause to be bigger and stronger. I quickly discovered I had made enormous muscle gains; every part of my muscle group anatomy (legs, shoulders, back, chest, arms), were now two to three inches bigger. On top of all this I showed a tremendous interest now in Martial Arts, and I read many books on Kung Fu; Karate (all styles) and Judo. To prevent my fellow class mates at secondary school knowing about my new love and passion, I deliberately started to wear extra-large baggy clothes to conceal my new muscular frame, until I was ready physically to revenge all those who had hurt me in the past.

I decided to join a local Judo club aged 14, and I was double-graded in the very first week to an orange-belt. I was so proud of myself, especially when I began to throw boys, men and women twice my size and age all over the mat (including my instructor), who was an ex-England Judo Champion. My confidence was unbelievably sky-high. My instructor then entered me into the all England Judo Championships in the first month of my membership, and I got to the semi-finals where I was facing men who were already black belts. I lost my semi-final to a very talented black belt teenager (16), whose father, I would later work alongside at my local hospital. His father was an all England Judo Champion with many records, and a qualified England Coach.

However, my days of glory were short-lived when a pack of six wolves, (teenagers), hell-bent in giving me a 'kicking' from a rival school paid me a visit one evening as I left the Judo Club. The gang’s leader who was swinging a huge baseball bat in my face, and threatening to kill me then approached me. I defended myself well, so well, that I threw the pack leader over my shoulder, and broke his arm in three places. The other wolves fled the scene but my instructor had witnessed everything, and said I had given the club a bad name now. I was very upset because all the training he had given me was, I initially thought, in order to use it in self-defence, and here was my instructor telling me I was at fault. I was absolutely boiling mad at him to say the least.

Not long after this escapade, I then decided to give karate a chance. I joined a local Tae Kwon Do karate club that practised three-times-a-week, and threw everything into learning about this Martial Art. I became a very good pupil, and was soon gaining different belt colour grades. My body was much fitter and healthier than ever before. Daniele Luciano Moskal was now a lean, and mean, fighting machine ready for any battle that came against him. When I was approximately 16 years of age, I bought myself an American ‘chopper’ bike from monies gained working two morning paper-rounds. I loved this bike and took a great deal of pride in it, and quickly set about extending the front forks by placing a small chunky wheel at the front, and a very large chunky wheel at the back of the bike. I also added a new, extra-length, padded seat for more comfort and painted the whole frame in a brilliant metallic orange; adding wide chrome handlebars. I would ride this bike everyday and everywhere, and I certainly would fight tooth and nail to prevent anyone stealing it from me. This day unfortunately arrived during “nutting” season, (the month of September in England for ripe nuts), for two unsuspecting lads. I had had just parked my beloved treasured bike by a large slide at the ‘Dell’, (a small park) at the back of my house for a few minutes, so I could quickly climb a hazelnut tree to shake it in order to collect some nuts for my family, when two of my school mates in my class suddenly showed up on their bikes.

Seizing the opportunity, they took my beloved bike and threw it head first down the huge slide where it slid, and smashed into the solid steel climbing frame at the bottom of the dell. My prized possession now resembled a scrap metal merchant’s yard; there were bits of my bike scattered all over the place. I blew many fuses in my head that day, and became like a wild violent man possessed of many demons. I jumped straight down from the tree running straight at them blood boiling, raving mad, like a bull in a china shop and rugby tackled both of the culprits. I smashed a fist very hard into the face of one of them, just as he was starting to rise up on his feet and his nose exploded with blood pouring profusely all over his white T-shirt and jeans. The other lad, the main instigator of this prank who incidently had beaten me up on many occasions whilst growing up and attending the same schools, suddenly made his move but I was ready for him this time around. Like a cat, I sprang into action and went into a fighting stance (L shaped), to face him head on.... He attempted to kick me in the groin at first, so I blocked his incoming blow with a double X block crossing both my arms together at the point of contact in front of my loins. Then, I quickly smashed a right forearm into the side of his face. As he started to lose his balance, I ran and delivered a sliding in sidekick straight into his midriff that sent him packing stunned, suprised, and very hurt into a small harvest of stinging nettles. The other lad just looked at me with amazement. His jaws wide open, he began shouting swear words to himself while constantly padding his nose with his T-shirt he was now using to quell his bloody nose. He could not believe I was fighting back; afterall he had witnessed me receive numerous beatings at the hands of his friend and others.

Thinking that the main prankster had had enough, he only got up and charged me again from behind grabbing my head in an arm-lock. Well, I was now an expert in self-defence now. A blue-belt, and I had learnt from previous fights from ‘bully-boys’ growing up that they always seem to go for the head. I placed one of my hands on his Adam’s apple and the other I placed in between his legs, holding and squeezing his small private parts, and threw him right up into the air. He came down heavily, and I pinned him down on the ground by sitting astride of him on his chest. I then threw two very hard punches straight into his face. His nose just blew up like a soft ripe tomato hitting a train; I proceeded to rain down many more blows to his stomach and face. I just went ballistic over what he had done to my bike, and now I had him just where I wanted him, and he was going to pay big time for all the occasions he had hurt me in the past.

The other boy fearing I was probably going to kill his buddy ran off to fetch my mum and dad, or phone the police. All the time I continued to rain blow-after-blow into the lad’s swollen face for a full five minutes; stopping only to then grab it, and rub it face down into the mud and twigs for a further minute or two……..

My young twin sisters arrived first on the scene after hearing all the commotion, and started to cry hysterically because they thought I was going to or already had killed him. They quickly ran to get help. Some of my neighbours came running together with my mother and the other boy. My mother shouted a lot of sentences at me in Italian, namely most of the Roman Catholic saints, and pulled me by my hair to get me off the helpless, semiconscious boy who was unrecognisable. His nose was broken and his eyes were blood-shot, black and blue, and swelling up very fast.

After the boys explained the truth to everyone, (including the police whom eventually came to see me a couple of days later) to ask me what had really happened I was cautioned and let off. Meanwhile, the main prankster had learnt his lesson and never, ever, bothered me again. In fact, he became a very good school friend after lying to his parents how he took such a beating. His parents were the actually ones who phoned the police to press charges after I went to tell them the truth. He had only told everyone that he received his injuries in a grudge rugby match or something like this.

Subsequently, the other lad though had seen enough to feed my now fast growing reputation by spreading it all over town that Daniele fights like a BADGER!

Well, this is how my fighting name was birthed. Now, to cut the long testimony short it wasn’t long after I deliberately picked on everyone at my school and other schools, and started to beat them up; eventually becoming the top fighter in and around my local town. I was now fast becoming an expert black belt in Tae Kwon Do , and other styles of martial Arts and weapon training; my once skinny body was now nearly six feet and approximately 13 stone of prime muscle mass. During all this fitness and weight-training period of my life, I loved my local football team and became more heavily involved in following them up-and-down the country, both at home and away games. It wasn’t long after, that I got a taste for the violence that seemed to accompany one’s team when visiting rival teams in a different town or village becoming one of the main ringleaders who was organising most of the trouble on behalf of our two football firms. I ran the firms like well-organised military units. We had now become well organised, notorious firms with over 500 members (young and old), who would fight and die for their beloved club against all over rivals with bitter hostility.

On many, many, occasions I was arrested and charged for fighting and causing serious public disorder offences in and outside many of the opposition grounds I had visited over a period of 25 years with the firms. I had now completely abused my Martial Arts training; Daniele Luciano Moskal the once abused boy was now the grown-up abuser - who was dishing out violence to everyone who got in his way. I also worked as a Door Supervisor (Bouncer)on many occasions at most London night-clubs and other clubs with many of Great Britains hardest men. It wasn't long before I was banned from showing my face at many grounds in the country before ‘banning orders’, were introduced by the police during Margaret Thatcher’s reign as Prime Minister of England. I survived many fights were all kinds of vicious weaponry was used by top English and Scottish football firms. Our reputation grew to such an extent that we became the best small firm in the country, that all other firms wanted to dismantle from the top (especially one London Club), that prided itself on being the very best football hooligans in England. By this time I owned my own Body-building gymasium, and was also working as a photo-journalist and part-time fashion model earning mega-monies. So money was not scarce, in fact I had to much so-to-speak. But the Holy Bible says:

"What profits a man or woman who gains the whole wide world but forfeits their soul!"

Again, to cut a long testimony short again (that is only just beginning) for me, God always gets the ‘messy ones’, so He can turn that mess into a powerful message for His glory. Just like He snatched Evangelist, Nicky Cruz from his notorious New York gang leadership not by a switchblade but by the Cross, so God in His great love, grace, and mercy snatched me out of a life of serious football violence and crime. I am not proud of many of the past things I have done but, I serve a God of the ‘second chance’, who is an all-forgiving and all-loving God, who loves each and everyone of us with an agape, unconditional love.

In November 1993, on a freezing cold November morning, above a Greek/Turkish Cypriot hairdresser’s shop along the Seven Sisters Road, in Tottenham, North London, God specifically called me to His beloved ministry. I was attending Middlesex University to gain a BA Degree, and God after sending a perfect labourer by the name of Jimmy Robert Bedding to introduce the 'born-again' Gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ to me, when I by God's grace experienced His awesome, glory. In my small student bedroom, God visited me in such a divine way by His precious Holy Spirit at 3:00 and 5:00 am. A day after my supernatural encounter with the LORD Jesus Christ, I committed and re-dedicated my entire life to Him at a Pentecostal church in Stamford Hill; the American Evangelist Jennifer Brown who was ministering with her husband, suddenly mentioned to the congregation of over 400 people that there was a man in the audience called Daniel, whom God wanted to use for His glory.

After a few minutes hestitating and pondering over what the woman preacher had just spoken out loud, for a 'Daniel' to come to the front of the altar, I was then rudely prodded in my back several times by Jimmy Bedding who was also sitting behind me grinning like a Cheshire cat saying, "It's you Daniel, God is calling, aren't you going up to the altar!"

Well, to cut the long story short again. What seemed like an eternity to get me down to that altar was now just a few moments away; because I eventually stood up, and by some kind of power I was now starting to walk down one of the aisles leading to the wide altar with most of the congregation cheering as if I was watching my beloved football team. The preacher then pointed at me while I was just approximately 15 -20 metres from the stage, and shouted out loud: "BEING CONFIDENT OF THIS, HE WHO BEGAN A GOOD WORK IN YOU WILL CARRY IT ON TO COMPLETION UNTIL THE DAY OF CHRIST JESUS!"

As soon as she shouted this Scripture verse out from the Book of Phillipians chapter 1, verse 6, I was hit what I can only describe as a gale force wind of God's Holy Spirit, which slew me and I was out cold lying on the floor; absolutely intoxicated by God's wine of His Spirit for over 30 minutes. The following day at a fellow Italian brother's house (Salvatore), in Turnpike Lane, London, while attending one of his Bible Classes with other brothers and sisters in Christ, a Korean Pastor, told me I should pray for the baptismal gift of 'speaking in tongues', the free gift of the Holy Spirit later on that night. After everyone had left I stood in the middle of the room at 2:00 am with my eyes closed and prayed for God to quench my thirst because I told Him, "I was a very, very, very, parched dry and weary land that needed His rivers of living water" (His Holy Spirit).

I waited for a few seconds and I visibly saw in my sub-conscious mind a glowing hand from a distance coming closer and closer towards me, then I felt my head and my hair had been gently brushed by this hand. Suddenly, I felt a finger-tip on the right-side of my temple, and in that very moment my stomach and my chest seemed to expand like the 'Michellin Man' , similar to one of them old Tyre TV adverts, as if it was about to explode.

Well, explode I did, because I now was talking in several unknown languages very fast and loud. I was overwhelmed with joy and started to cry as this flood of heavenly languages proceeded to come out of my mouth like a tornado. God sure does have a great sense of humour because I could not stop speaking for four hours; I lost my voice but was so very, very, happy I had received the gift of speaking in tongues. By this time Salvatore, came running into the front-room with all the commotion taking place, and was instantly slain by God's Spirit, and he started to laugh hysterically on the ground for several minutes.

Just when I thought the day was over............ at precisely 6:00 am in the morning, (just three days after my supernatural encounter with the LORD), when my speaking of tongues seemed like they were gradually beginning to stop, and, I was now falling asleep by the side of the settee. God's wind of His Spirt blew across my whole body, and I was now suddenly on my knees with both my hands in the air above my head looking at the corner of the room. I felt as if something wanted to appear from that corner because my eyes were transfixed, when six-to-eight bright illuminous lights shone from the corner on to my whole body; where my flesh (hands and face) , was exposed to this light it just shone very brightly. Then I saw the glory of God fill the entire front-room, and the glory seemed to come closer and closer. I was intoxicated by God's shekinah presence and His amazing love which seemed to be flushing out of me all of my anger, pain, bitterness and replacing it with more of His agape love.

Tears of joy were now flooding down my face. It seemed as if my tear-ducts had broken in both eyes. Then I heard the Holy Spirit speak to my very soul a couple of times that I should begin to praise Him. My voice was very, very, hoarse now because I had previously spoken four hours of non-stop heavenly languages. As I was thinking to myself, I want to praise God but nothing seemed to come out of my throat, an angel touched my throat and I began to sing a heavenly lullaby for approximately 10-15 minutes, and God spoke to me audible:


"Many are called but very few are chosen!" I boast not in myself but in the loving, merciful, and gracious God who specifically chose me, and eqipped me with His gifts and sent me out to serve in His beloved ministry as an Evangelist and Discipler to all nations, and I have been faithfully serving Him since. For He miraculously saved me from a life of crime and destroying people's lives. This is my testimony of God's miraculous saving power that has only just begun, and I truly believe God will carry on to complete it until the day I meet with Jesus Christ, AMEN!



Submitted by Daniele Luciano Moskal
8 April 2010
Print This Page