
Baptism Stories that Go Beyond Numbers: Inside Iglesia Real’s Gospel Impact
HOLLYWOOD— At Iglesia Real in Hollywood, every baptism is more than a metric—it’s a miracle. Behind each individual who steps into the water is a story of grace and transformation, a story that reveals the relentless pursuit of a God who saves. Under the pastoral care of Martin Vargas, the church is seeing not just decisions for Christ, but disciples formed and lives rebuilt.
On Saturday, April 19,, leading up to Easter Sunday, Iglesia Real baptized 21 men, women and children.
Three of those lives—Valeria, Jean Paul, and Gerardo—represent the depth behind the church’s recent wave of baptisms. Their stories remind us that while churches may report numbers, heaven celebrates names.
Valeria: From Silent Shame to Unshakable Peace
I was so nervous—but when I came out of the water, I felt peace, like I could finally rest.
Valeria was raised in Nicaragua, the youngest of three siblings. Though her childhood was wrapped in love by a resilient mother, trauma crept in through a trusted figure during a season of family instability. “He didn’t abuse me sexually, but he did cross boundaries that no child should experience,” she shared. For years, she carried the weight of that memory in silence—shaped by nightmares, shame and a distorted sense of worth.

“I always felt dirty. I always felt like everything was my fault,” she said. Even as a teen mom, she chose to parent her daughter with fierce devotion, though guilt followed her into adulthood. “I was trying to be strong on my own, but inside, I never felt enough—not for God, not for anyone.”
Her move to the U.S. in 2018 uprooted the life she knew, but planted the seeds of transformation. Through her sister’s encouragement, she began attending church. Later, when she met Jean Paul—now her husband—she was introduced to Iglesia Real. It was there, in a discipleship class called Hacia la Meta, that the Holy Spirit broke through her defenses.
The topic was forgiveness. “I couldn’t understand how someone like me could be forgiven,” Valeria said. “But in that moment, I realized—He already paid the price. I don’t have to keep carrying this.”
She has made Psalm 86:5 her battle cry: “You, Lord, are forgiving and good, abounding in love to all who call to you.” Her baptism, which had to be postponed once due to her daughter’s injury, felt like a long-awaited breakthrough. “I was so nervous—but when I came out of the water, I felt peace, like I could finally rest.”
Jean Paul: A Fighter Finds Faith
Baptism “wasn’t the end of my struggle, but the beginning of my healing.”
Jean Paul’s life is a study in contrasts: bold on the outside, broken on the inside. Born in Peru and raised in the U.S., he lived through terrorism, abuse, violence and near-death experiences. “I was molested at seven,” he confessed. “And I never told anyone until last year.” That wound planted seeds of distrust toward God and organized religion.
He grew up fighting—for survival, for success, for control. His life in New York was riddled with chaos: street fights, betrayal, jail time and brushes with death. “I got shot at, hit with bats, ended up in the hospital. Everyone said I wouldn’t make it. But somehow, I always did.”

He credited that survival to himself—until the cracks began to show. His career in finance flourished, but the emptiness intensified. “I was rich and miserable,” he said. “I started to think—maybe I didn’t get here on my own.”
His turning point came through family. His brother Pablo, a leader at Iglesia Real, patiently kept the door open. Eventually, Jean Paul accepted an invitation to church—and this time, he stayed. “God used my brother, my wife, and even my failures to lead me back.”
What led him to baptism was not a moment of perfection, but a moment of surrender. “I realized I’ll never be good enough. That’s why I need Jesus.”
His anchor verse has become Matthew 6:21 (paraphrased in his own words): “Wherever your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” Baptism, he said, “wasn’t the end of my struggle, but the beginning of my healing.”
Gerardo: From Weed and Wanderlust to Rooted Faith
We’re all sinners. It’s not about being ready. It’s about being willing.
Gerardo was born in Venezuela but raised in South Florida. His childhood was marked by constant movement—between homes, schools and beliefs. Though baptized Catholic, he never embraced faith as his own. “We only went to church when my grandparents were visiting,” he said. “My dad raised us to question everything. So I did.”
His teenage years were shaped by rebellion: marijuana use, school suspensions and aimless searching. Even when his older brother found Christ and began preaching at home, Gerardo tuned it out. “I saw him as a good example, but I wasn’t ready to follow.”

Things shifted in Orlando during a difficult relationship. He began working under a Seventh-Day Adventist doctor and alongside a Christian coworker, both of whom talked openly about God. “They never pressured me,” he said. “They just shared. And I started listening.”
But it wasn’t until the relationship crumbled and Gerardo moved back home that faith became real. He started attending Iglesia Real with his now-wife, who only speaks Spanish. “I wanted a church we could experience together. Iglesia Real was perfect.”
Still, he wrestled with feelings of unworthiness. “I kept thinking, I still mess up—how can I get baptized?” But over time, the gospel’s truth broke through: “We’re all sinners. It’s not about being ready. It’s about being willing.”
The verse that carried him through is from Job, a reminder that faith stands even in pain: “Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him” (Job 13:15). When he finally stepped into the water, Gerardo said he felt like he was finally home. “I was anxious, but I knew it was time. I just prayed, ‘God, make me faithful.’”
A Church Where Grace is on Display
Whether it’s through the spiritual clarity of Hacia la Meta, the leadership of family members or the welcoming atmosphere of a church that ministers in both English and Spanish, Iglesia Real is creating a space where people from all walks of life can hear the gospel clearly. For Gerardo and his wife, that inclusivity made all the difference. “We wanted to grow together in faith—and we found a place where we both understood the message and felt at home.”
The stories of Valeria, Jean Paul and Gerardo are more than testimonies—they are invitations to believe that no one is too far, too broken or too late for the grace of God.