A Journey of Faith, Service, and Sign Language

Jazzmen Wilken’s story is one of adventure, faith, and a deep commitment to helping others. Growing up in a military family as one of four children, she experienced a life of constant movement. “About every four years or so, we moved,” she recalled. Those early experiences taught her adaptability, a quality that would shape much of her adult life.

One of the most significant chapters of her life began with a simple conversation with the man who would become her husband. Before they were married, they dreamed about living somewhere beyond the United States. On a whim, they settled on a destination neither of them knew much about. “We just looked at each other, I said, ‘New Zealand?’ He’s like, ‘New Zealand.’” Years later, that dream became reality when her husband accepted a position in New Zealand, and the family made the move.

While a stay-at-home mom raising children overseas, Wilken became passionate about mental health and founded a nonprofit focused on creativity as a tool for healing. The organization encouraged people to express themselves through activities such as yo-yoing, dance, and art. Reflecting on its mission, she explained, “If you do something creative, it helps you to let go of some of the things, maybe depression or anxiety or stress.” Her work brought joy and connection to shelters and community spaces, where sometimes the goal was simply “to laugh and smile.”

Upon returning to the United States, she found work as a teacher's aide and later as a co-teacher. Yet another unexpected turn came when she felt compelled to learn American Sign Language (ASL). As she described it, “One night God was like, ‘Hey, go learn sign language at San Antonio College.’” Trusting that prompting, she enrolled and began what would become a transformative journey.

Wilken immersed herself in the Deaf community, attending events and learning directly from native signers. Her dedication paid off when she passed the basic Board for Evaluation of Interpreters (BEI) certification exam in Texas, allowing her to work professionally as a sign language interpreter. “God has given me the skill that I need,” she said.

Her search for opportunities to practice ASL led her to Family Deaf Church. At the time, she knew very little sign language, joking that she could barely sign her own name. Yet the congregation welcomed her with patience and encouragement. “It was really their warm and welcoming demeanor and attitudes that made me keep going back,” she remembered. Through those relationships, she developed both her language skills and her connection to the community. She eventually became an interpreter for the church. Sometimes she signs vocalization and other times vocalizing ASL.

Underlying all these experiences is Wilken’s faith. Raised by parents who were ministers, she has long viewed her life through a spiritual lens. One childhood memory remains especially vivid. After being baptized at age seven, she emerged from the water feeling transformed. “I felt lighter,” she recalled. “I feel like I could float away.” Later in life, she intentionally tested the beliefs she had inherited, seeking proof through experience. Time and again, she felt that God was present and guiding her path.

Today, Wilken works as a sign language interpreter, serving clients across a variety of settings. Looking ahead, she envisions a bright future for Family Deaf Church. She hopes to see the church grow and expand its outreach through services such as counseling, food assistance, and resource support specifically designed for the Deaf community. “I see them continuing to grow and expanding their reach,” she said.

From a young girl moving from place to place, to a nonprofit founder in New Zealand, to an interpreter serving the Deaf community, Wilken’s story demonstrates how faith, service, and a willingness to follow unexpected opportunities can shape a remarkable life journey.

Everything in That Bible Is True

John-Michael Marroquin came to our campus because a friend needed groceries.

Her husband had lost his job, and she needed help with food. John-Michael brought her to the Highland Park CAN food pantry. There Vernon Liverett told him about the Tuesday community dinner.

"It is a free meal," Marroquin thought, "and I am going because I need fellowship."

He also needed a church.

In 2004, while living in Houston, Marroquin was diagnosed with a neurological illness. It shook him, but it did not drive him from his faith. At first, he admits, he lived in denial. Then a friend challenged him to take the Bible seriously.

"Read the Bible. Do everything in the Bible that it tells you to do," his friend said. "I guarantee that in one year your life will change. What do you have to lose? If everything in that Bible is true, you have everything to gain."

Marroquin accepted the challenge. In 2006, he joined Grace Community Church in Houston. Faith became more than Sunday worship. He studied the Bible, prayed daily, and tried to follow the leading of the Holy Spirit.

His life changed. He received a job promotion to general manager, responsible for about 30 accounts. His income grew. So did his faith. 

He joined the church choir, though the first rehearsal tested more than his voice. He stood in front and sang with everything he had. One of the men soon approached him. "John," he said, "you might want to go sit in the back."

Marroquin stayed with the 268-member choir. He had come to sing for the Lord. The Lord began by working on his pride.

The illness did not disappear. Stress made it worse, and John-Michael eventually left the corporate work he had once considered a success. "God removed that," he said. "He wanted me to go somewhere else, and I followed Him."

That somewhere else was the road. Marroquin began training for a commercial driver's license. In Waxahachie, discouraged by a test he was afraid he could not pass, he stood outside and prayed. "Lord, why am I here?" he asked. "Where am I supposed to go? What am I doing?"

When he turned around, he saw a woman who was also a Christian. She later became his second wife. They married in 2015, drove together, and talked about God with people they met along the way. Not everyone wanted to listen. They spoke anyway.

In 2016 he was hospitalized while on the road, a year later his wife’s health problems brought an end to their time driving together. So, Marroquin went to work for Greyhound. He drove interstate routes from 2017 until 2022 and called it the best job he ever had. Another surgery brought his years behind the wheel to an end.

His marriage ended too. The divorce was hard. He drifted from the life he believed God had called him to live and searched for a church where he could belong. The search brought him to Baptist Temple when a friend needed groceries. He came for food and found fellowship and the connection to God he always longed for.

"I was led to you by God," he said. "I feel the presence of God here."

When asked what God had placed in his heart, Marroquin did not hesitate.

"To minister," he said. "To spread the gospel, the Word of God, and share it with others. His amazing grace, the testimonies that we have, the things that I have seen. I can say today that everything in that Bible is true.”

From La Vida Loca to a Life of Service

When Albert LaQue’s mother dropped him off for his first day of first grade, he cried. Sitting at his desk sobbing, he was approached from behind by a group of boys who began beating him with their textbooks.

“That’s when La Vida Loca started for me,” he says.

LaQue went home, got his brother’s banana knife, and began carrying it. One day he sliced one of the boys in the arm. Later, he and the boys became friends. They ran around together and formed their own little gang.

At age nine, “Lucky,” as he was known, spent a year in juvenile detention for stealing a car. At 13, he used heroin for the first time. The addiction followed him into adulthood.

Then, in early July 1999, LaQue found himself sitting on a curb, stoned. He had been missing for ten days.

He decided he needed to turn his life over to the Lord.

It did not happen all at once. LaQue went to San Antonio for Christ, where the pastor allowed him to stay in a house open to anyone who needed a place. He left, got high, and came back. He did it twice.

Then he stopped.

LaQue made the decision that he was not going to live that way anymore and began attending the church’s worship services. By then, his family had not known where he was for about a month.

As his faith grew stronger, LaQue began telling his story. He completed The Miracle Center’s “School of Ministry." He witnessed to others, preached in prisons, and wherever he went told about the life he had lived and the God who had changed it. 

He has now been sober for 27 years.

LaQue left a successful career as a carpenter—“It was too hot outside,” he said—and went to work for Funeral Caring USA. Starting in maintenance, he worked his way up to office manager at the BT campus site. After the funeral director and others have completed their work, the responsibility for making sure the funeral runs smoothly falls to LaQue.

The families he meets are grieving. LaQue tries to make a difficult day a little easier.
He deals with death every day and sees nothing good about it. But he finds meaning in being able to reduce some of the burden families carry at one of the hardest moments of their lives.

LaQue remains embarrassed by his past. He also knows he is a living example of what God can do with a life. God can turn a hurt into a halo and transform tears into testimony.