Michael Haner Story

My name is Michael Haner. I received a Bachelor’s Degree in Counseling. I am an inventor, a musician, and specialize in kingdom sales.

"You can't get to heaven by hanging on to my coat tail," my Grandpa said. That would be too easy.

I grew up in Michigan surrounded by ministers. My Grandpa, Dad, several uncles and cousins were preachers.

I'm the third born of eight children. Three times a week, I went with my family to Grandpa’s church. All eight of us sat on the back row and sang and clapped. After the singing and testimonies, Grandpa preached. That is when I'd take my place under the pew for a nap.

While lying on the floor one day I felt a sweet, loving presence. Tears trickled down my cheeks. I sobbed quietly and confessed to God all the wrong things I had done during my seven years.

A few years later, my older brother and cousins got baptized, and I wanted to be baptized also. But, my Dad said no.

"I want you to fully understand why you want to be baptized," he said. My Dad's words caused me to look inward and upward. I realized Dad wanted me to understand that I needed to give myself fully to Jesus. Just before my twelfth birthday, I made this decision.

Later on a Sunday night, my Grandfather preached a message based on Isaiah 6:8, “Here am I, send me.” The next morning, I went to school with these words echoing on my mind. When recess came, I crawled into a large drain pipe on the playground of Rogers Lane Elementary School and watched my friends as they played. Yet, I no longer saw them as just friends, but as eternal souls. My tunnel vision focused on them, and thoughts of eternity. This question kept coming to me, as if the Lord was whispering to me, "Who's going to tell them? Who's going to tell them about me?"
I wiped my eyes and replied, "I'll tell them about Jesus. I'll tell them."

At the age of sixteen, I went deer hunting at Peacock Hills near Baldwin, Michigan, with my Grandpa and Uncle Ed. We walked for some time down a two-track road looking for deer. After a tiresome walk and not seeing a deer, Grandpa pointed at a large oak tree and told me to get behind the tree with my rifle, be still, and watch for deer. After a while, I decided to stretch and walk around. In the distance, I saw two men approaching me carrying guns. At first I thought it might be Grandpa and Uncle Ed. Then I saw two strange deer hunters carrying rifles heading toward me. As they got closer, one of the hunters pointed his rifle at me. Suddenly, the other hunter raised his rifle and fired.

At that instant, I felt two arms pull me back against the tree, and I fell into the leaves. There in front of me was my red hat with hair and blood on it. As the hunters approached, I said, “What in the world do you think you were shooting at – a deer?” “You idiots!” One hunter said he thought I was a black deer.
I said, “Do I look like a deer? Do deer wear red clothes and a red Hat?”

After I calmed down, I asked the hunters their names and where they were from. After our conversation they left to continue hunting. Then, realizing that I had left my gun at the oak tree, I went to retrieve it. I also remembered that Grandpa had told me to blow the car horn if I needed him. When I arrived at the car and had blown the horn several times, I decided to stretch out on the back seat.

While lying down on the back seat, thinking about what just happened, tears flowed down my cheeks and I couldn’t stop crying. “Thank you God for saving my life.”
After a few minutes I heard Uncle Ed speak. “There are candy wrappers everywhere.”

I stepped out of the car. “Did you see the blood too?” I asked.

They froze and gasped in shock at the sight of the blood. I told them what happened and showed them the hat. Grandpa contacted the state police on his CB radio, and we returned to the cabin.

Later two Michigan State troopers came to the cabin. One officer looked at my head and the hat. Then he stuck his finger through the hole. “This doesn’t line up? How were you wearing this hat?” he asked.

I carefully placed it on my head. “If this is right, the bullet entered here,” said the trooper pointing to the middle of my forehead, “and came out here.” He touched the back of my head. Silence filled the room.

“Boy, God’s got work for you to do. Not time for you to go yet,” said Grandpa.

A few days later I told Grandpa about a dream I had a week before hunting season.  In the dream, I went hunting and got shot in the head and God said, “Not yet.”

That was over forty years ago.

“What is it you want from me Lord? I’m still here.”

Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.

Download Michael's Story to Print and Share!

Download Story With Blank Contact Info

Would you like to start a relationship with Jesus? Check out the Salvation - Coming to Jesus teaching, or our survey to find out for about the Baptism of the Holy Spirit. Also see Mentoring the Joshua Generation.