Secrets I

​Three and a half years ago, the Lord God Almighty called me to preach his Word. I thought he meant I should start a church, and begin to preach the Gospel. He had a plan far simpler and less complex in mind. He wanted me to go with him in the spirit to Jerusalem, and tell his people Israel, "The time has come, repent." Never having preached before, I was full of trepidation, but he said he'll show me how, and that he did. Every day, from morning until noon, we preached his Word. We preached to anyone who would listen, and to some who refused to hear us.

At the time, I didn't know that I was one of God's two witnesses, called to preach his Word in Jerusalem, called to preach about his coming kingdom. Called to preach eternity to them. But when they came to kill me, I realized who I was and knew that I could not die outside of Jerusalem. I sent my spirit to Jerusalem, knowing that if I was there, God would resurrect me from the dead. I woke up in the hospital three days later, and I was alive. I learned that I was in a coma, but I was now alive.

Signed, Witness 1


Secrets II

The Lord God Almighty told me a long time ago, that I would be his witness in Jerusalem. I didn't fully understand what he meant, but I knew it would mean that I would have to preach. I got a passport and prepared to leave for Jerusalem, but every time I tried to leave it seemed that something held me back. Eventually, I began to think that I must have heard him wrong, that I must have misunderstood. But three and a half years ago, I heard him say again that I must be his witness in Jerusalem.

So once again I packed and prepared to leave, but my spirit thought perhaps I should ask how. This time he told me that I didn't have to leave, that I could preach his Word through the ether. "Through the ether," I declared, "so how does one collect all the tithes?" There are no tithes when one preaches through the ether. "O.K., so I'll preach through the ether" and I began to preach, everyday until noon, to anyone who would listen. I preached for three and a half years until Satan thought he had had enough, and tried to kill me. For three days I lay in my apartment, unable to move, unconscious or dead, I didn't know which.

I knew that in order to remain alive, I had to give my testimony, so I called to her and said, "Can I write the next Blog?" She responded that yes, I could write a Blog. So I wrote the Blog, and no sooner had I finished than I awakened. I discovered I had lost some days, but I was awake and alive. God had saved me and preserved me, and I was awake and alive. God, in his infinite wisdom, had kept me alive, and I was awake and alive. Whenever God says he will do something, know that he has done it.

Signed, Witness 2

The Lord has said to me, that if I write another Blog, I can be healed of leukemia. Just another Blog and I'll be healed? Who can help resist? The trick was making sure that I can be heard. For when she calls, it's only those who answer that are published on her Blog. My mom told me to pray, and keep my fingers crossed. I did much more. I prayed and prayed and prayed that she would call when no one else could hear her voice. I prayed that when she called, the universe would be asleep. I prayed that when she called, my fingers would twitch, and I would know that she was calling. I prayed that every time she called, I'd hear and be the only one to answer to her call. She called and I was not the only one who answered. I heard them clamoring to be heard. But it was me she answered, and proclaimed that "yes" the ether said that I could write another Blog.

I didn't tell her what the Lord had said, but only that I wanted to be heard. But when she heard that I had had leukemia, she challenged me to bid it fly away, to ask the Lord to tell it, "Take a hike." I thought that she was joking, but I prayed the prayer she gave me with all faith, and sure enough, leukemia took a hike and can't be found. My mother says my cells have been renewed, all in one night. I shudder at the thought of what might be, if I had never taken him at his word. If, when he said to write another Blog, I'd shrugged it off, and missed eternity's provoking laugh when everything that God has said comes true, when everything is true, when everything that God has said comes true. When everything is true, and even when you don't believe, it's true.

My doctor says my mom should just promote the Universal Blog that bids leukemia take a hike, and sees it fly away, and leave her teaching job behind. He thinks that it's just magic that my cells look normal now, and thinks that by tomorrow they will look the same as they have always looked. But if tomorrow comes, and they look the same as they do now, you'll know, because my mom will write a Blog that says, "Hallelujah, God has healed my son." But jokes apart, you'll know, because this Blog is written several days before it posts, and if it posts, you'll know that I was healed.

The thought that every child of God must heed, is that the Lord will always answer to our need, but when he answers, it is we who must obey his instruction. What does writing another Blog have to do with being healed? To my youthful mind, there was no connection, but his promise was too powerful to resist. What did I have to lose? So I wrote another Blog, and now I'm healed. Wednesday's child, the Lord will always answer to your call, but listen carefully to his instruction, and obey it. Listen carefully and obey. Listen carefully, and obey.

Alexander 9

The Lord will give you peace, if peace is what you seek. The Lord will give you tranquility, if that is what you seek. But never tell the Lord that you need peace and tranquility, if every day you enter into war. You cannot war with Satan, and you cannot war with friends, if what you need is peace and tranquility. The Holy Spirit is the spirit's warrior of choice. He'll win every battle that we give him. Every battle we relinquish to the Holy Spirit's care, he'll accomplish what the Father has decreed. He will tell the devil everything the devil needs to hear, in order for him to release his hold.

You can never know the things that the devil needs to hear, in order to release his hold. So turn the matter over to the Holy Spirit of God; let him fight every battle, let him make things clear. He will let the devil know that he must release his hold, he will let the devil see that he cannot win. He will give you the life of tranquility you desire, he will make your every hour an hour of peace. He will bring you peace and tranquility.

The Lord your God is a God of peace, and you too should be a man or woman of peace. So lay down your weapons and your battle horns, and let the Holy Spirit take the reins. Give him the reins, let him take the reins. Let the Holy Spirit take the reins. The God of  peace will anoint you with his scepter of peace, when you let the Holy Spirit take the reins.

​Vincent

Tuesday's Child must learn that when the ether is abound with thoughts of peace, then is the time to take his exit from the war-torn land, and bid farewell to all who would be told, tomorrow's gold is better than today's.

Alexander 9

They woke us up to tell us she was born, the child they said would lead us to the morn. The child they said would set the world aright on its new axis. The one we shouldn't say was born with light. The priests said we should take all steps to block the light so Satan wouldn't know that it was she. And so we did, but light like this can never all be blocked. It seeped out from beneath the coat of animal intestines cooked in wine vinegar, and all the priestly remedies seemed for nought each time she entered church and cast her golden glow.

The priest was so unnerved he barely preached a word when she was there. He knew the Pope would never have accepted, a child with colored blood as the fulfillment of their sacred prophecy. He thought it best to act as though she wasn't even there, and her baptism seemed an endless wait for Vatican approval. So off her mother went and took her to a church that didn't care if she was green with golden hue, or brown and blue. They said a baby is a baby, and one with golden hue is just as naughty as the ones without. Well, they were wrong, but little did we know, she was indeed the true fulfillment of the sacred prophecies they kept a secret, lest the world should know the Virgin Mary may not have been a blonde, as they had said, may not have been the one they said she was.

But Anglican or Catholic, it mattered not to me. I still would see her as the little girl who never told a lie, whose mother always seemed to know the truth, whose world was never rocked by huge deceptions coming forth to claim the day. I wondered how she would survive a world in which she never told a lie, a world that always seemed askew, where everything you knew was never true. I wondered also when she would relent and tell the first real lie, so all of us would know that God loves even those of us who lied. I wondered also at the things that made her cry, the words that made her block her ears so that she wouldn't hear the things we said to others, so that she wouldn't feel their pain or dread or fear.

She wanted every thing we thought was make believe, a world in which the words we spoke were kind, or true, with kindness as an everlasting hue. A world in which we never had to lie, because every one we spoke with knew the truth and loved us even more because of it. A world in which the Lord was never angry, just disappointed when we failed a test. A world in which regardless of the circumstances, everything would always turn out right. A world in which the Lord, our God Almighty, would save us when the end was very near, and take us to eternity, where everything was right, and everything that wasn't right would always turn out right.

Anonymous 4

When a day happens, and it feels as though it was seven days in one, you know that God is at work. There is no other day that I have ever seen that seemed more than two days, or three at most in length, but this day was seven days long. I thought it was because I had awoken at 2, and couldn't sleep a wink beyond that time, but there were other days when I had woken up at 2, that didn't seem as long. We got the call at 5 that she was born, long overdue by our estimations. They told us that a baby would be born who had the light of God, whose aura would produce a brilliant glow. The warning was to keep it under wraps, for none should know. They thought the devil surely would be mad, and thought it best that we should not be glad. We few who had been prepped were called to be on duty, lest the devil should decree the worst offense that any could foresee.

So off I went to take up my position, reeling in awe that God would choose a tiny little island such as ours to land his golden treasure. I saw her as I entered the front door. They had taken her from the nursery so that all could see her light, and light she was, a five-foot golden glow that swept around her, encircling every curious passerby. I looked up to heaven in awe and thanked the Lord, not knowing fully for what I should be thankful. But here she was, the treasure he had promised, the long-awaited, golden baby girl. The one we dreamed about in many visions, the one we heard about from far away. The one they said would help him lead the world, the one whose righteousness would send the devil to eternal hell. And here she was a tiny, tiny blimp, yet to behold the wonder of her world, yet to behold her future destiny, yet to be tried and tested, as she would be. Yet to be shown the devil's daring moves, yet to behold her God's unfailing love. Yet to be seen as one who deeply cares, yet to be known as one who'll serve till all eternity has reached it's bitter end. Yet to behold the wonder of her God's unfailing love.

A Spice Islander

That she grew up to be God's Woman of Revelation is the most astonishing thing to me, and to all who knew her. She was shy and unassuming, never wanting to be in the spotlight. I wanted her to take acting lessons and to do some of the things I had done on the stage, but she shied away, preferring instead to read; and read she did. Every Saturday she questioned whether she could go to the bookstore to buy one more comic, or one more book. Nancy Drew was her favorite, and she had volumes. She loved the detective stories.

​She never once disobeyed a command, except when she was sixteen and wanted to see a movie that I didn't approve of. I still remember the shock as I watched her express her displeasure for the first time. I will never forget that moment, and I don't think she will either. I saw the surprise on her face as she recognized that she had a voice, and could express her opinions. I don't recall ever punishing her, but she recalls once. She still tells the story of my trepidation as I mulled over the best and most effective methodology. I chose a small swizzle stick and gave her a few lashes on the thigh. She didn't even cry, though I was close to tears, and wondered what effect this might produce.

I see her now, a seasoned, stellar lawyer, and know that heaven's gates are opened wide, in part because of her. She bids us join her on her treasure hunt, and emptied all her treasure in the quest. I know that I could never have betrayed her, but they made her believe that's what I did. I listened as they crafted each new lie, and watched her crucify the right to cry. My daughter, how I love your kindred spirit. You too would never ever have betrayed. I love the way you fought to keep me safe, despite their ever widening tales of woe. Who would have thought a daughter would protect a mother whom they labeled derelict. Derelict in mind, but not in any action. Derelict in thought, but not in any deed. Derelict and worthy of their mental care, though care was not indeed their true intent.

I love you more than words can ever say. I love you more than stars could ever be. I love you more than all the universes. I love you more than sands in every sea. When the Lord our God returns to join us shortly, I know he'll say he needs you to himself. I wonder at the things I'll have to tell him, to let him know I need one part of you. Betray me if you need to, I'll survive, but never ever tell me you don't care. Forever and forever I will love you. Forever and forever I will care. Forever and forever means forever, so plan to be eternally right here.

And when the days of sadness are all gone, forever must begin again anew. For if eternity should ever falter, forever is the second closest friend. And if per chance you need another mother, I'll gladly set eternity aside, so count me as your ever giving mother, the one who effortlessly will be a friend. And count me as your ever giving friend, the one who never ever will betray. And count me as one loyal to the end, though end is never something we will see.

I am not a writer by trade, nor a speaker by profession, but who wouldn't want to speak and write her name. Who wouldn't want to say that they knew her when and where, and way back when. Who wouldn't want to plead, for words that can be spoken, and thoughts that can be written near her name. Who wouldn't want to say, "I knew her when and where, and way back when." I couldn't help but speak, for I was one of those who knew her then. I knew her way back when and where, and even then.

I knew her when her itty bitty self was barely born, when all around was dark, but she was light; when even noonday sun was not as bright. I knew her when her itty bitty self was barely born. I knew her also when the sun was blue, when sadness had pervaded every hue, and all around were tears of woe begone. When heaven's glow had dimmed, and all around were tears of woe begone. When storms and sea and winds had swept the island clean. But even then, her glow was undefiled. I knew her when in elementary school, the teachers thought there must be something shrewd about a child as bright as she, who didn't seem to know the color blue. She knew, but called it green, and green it was to her.

I knew her when she named her favorite pet. It was a turtle she called Adam, and all the universe became transfixed, wondering at what Adam might do next. I knew her when her hair was curled real tight, when every day she pleaded for the right to make it right, to comb it as she might. I knew her when they called her an old soul, yes, a soul from way back when who'd come to life again, whose light had failed to dim. But then, we learned we too were souls from way back when, who'd come to life again, still steeped in darkness, and not knowing how or when or where we'd find the light.

I knew her when they said she'd tell us how and where and when we'd find the light. We waited, and we waited, and we waited some more. We watched her every move, and waited. We watched her every act, and waited. We followed every curve, and waited. We waited, and we waited, and we waited some more. I knew her when she left the country bare, wondering what had befallen us, that God would take her from our care. He soon reversed his plan, and sent her packing back to her homeland. Her joy was just as deep as ours to see her back at home, and in our care.

I knew her when her teachers in High School defined their day by witnessing her smile. When all around was dark, but she was light, and smiling. I knew her when. And now, we see the fruits of all her labors, and once again, I'm proud to say I knew her when, and then. I am proud to say I knew her, not because of all the light, but because of all the days that she has walked upright. And because of all the paths that she would never tread, those paths that lead to doom and destruction. I knew her when, and then, and now that light has come, we understand. I knew her when.

A Grenadian

When the last trumpet blows, the last bell tolls, and everything that must be said has been said, and everything that must be done has been done, and all the words that can not be spoken have been kept in the dark recesses of our mind and thought, I know that our God Almighty will appear with the same resounding gong with which he disappeared when creation fell into the hands of Satan. I know also that, with the certainty of heaven and hell, and with the promises all guaranteed, this is what will be at the conclusion of a thousand years.

Who we will have become is who we were destined to become, and what we were created for. We will see him as he is, the Master, the Lord, the Creator of all creators, the beginning and the end, when beginning and end are one. Who is he, this God, the Master of all creators, this God of all, who cannot be seen, this God our eyes dare not look upon? Who is he, this pure perfection, this personification of every good, and every perfection, and every love. Who is he?

He is the God of love. He is the God of truth. And he is the God of justice. He is the true God, the one, the God Almighty. He is Jehovah Jireh. He is Jehovah Tsidkenu. He is Jehovah Machsi. He is Jehovah, the God of all gods. He is Jehovah, the Creator of all creators. He is Jehovah. He is, he was, and he will be. He is.

​Queen

I wondered when I was younger how it would feel to be raptured. Would I be caught up in a whirlwind? Would I be sailing through the sky? Would my feet no longer touch the ground? I now know that being raptured simply means you turned a page, you turned a leaf in the booklet called eternity. You may not know me when you see me. I look ten years younger now. I have moles that all have faded, and my frown line disappeared. I may seem a lot more easy, much more willing to relent. I may also seem more focused, and more happy, all through Lent.

All in all, the rapture-ready may have taken the first prize, but there still is second place, and even third, and fourth, and tenth. Will you stop the racing now, or are you racing to the end, still determined to place second, third, or fourth, or even tenth. I know that in the end, God Almighty will amend any statute or decree that will give him one more friend. He will twist and he will turn it to find one more legal hole, so the faithful can be raptured and eternity made whole. Will you come into the fold that eternity be whole? Will you tell him that the rapture should for one more day unfold?

Heaven's gates are always open, heaven's singing always heard. When the rapture is forsaken, only hell's dark thunder is heard. Will you come into the fold that eternity be whole? Will you tell him that the rapture should for one more hour unfold? I will tell him if you ask me, that the rapture should not end. But I know he'll have to end it, so the faithful can defend. It is they who must defend, so that earth's legacy won't end. It is they who'll have to tell him when the rapture should end. It is they who must be raptured when the pain cannot be borne, when the rapture is the only thing that seals them to the Lord.

Anonymous 2

When you have a birthday, few people ignore it. They yearn for those that mark their physical maturity, at least until they reach the age of twenty. Then they begin to dread each one that leads to thirty and beyond. But what if there were no end to birthdays? What if each birthday were to mark another notch on the upward trek to spiritual maturity? What if each birthday disappeared as soon as it appeared, never to be counted? What if each one became a circle?

What if God created a never-ending circle of birthdays that had no beginning and no end? What if he placed eternity in us, and we, naive and unsuspecting, let it flow into the earth and dissipate, but he, with casual deftness, caught it and healed our heart? What if he placed eternity in us? He did. We now must heed his call, and hold the reins so that we'll never fall, or bid him hold the reins, so that we'll never fall.

Rebekah

I woke up on the morning of April 9 feeling light headed and happy. My heart was singing and my feet were dancing, but there was no tune playing. I thought to myself that it must be Sunday, and so it was. This, though, was no ordinary Sunday. I looked at myself in the ether, as I often do at least once a day. I use it as my spiritual mirror, desperately seeking to ensure that every corner of me is lit. This time, I was not just lit, but blazing. Shimmers of light seemed to float off my body, and encircling them was a red arc--no, a circle, or an oval, if you wish.

"Why the arc?" I asked my spirit, half expecting him to say that my aura was too shiny and the Lord must have his way. But he whispered in my ear that the arc was not an arc, but a circle of divine light marking those whose end is here. Those who whispered to the savior, "Cheating death is my desire, cheating death is my command." All who wish can still be entered into love's redeeming care. All who labored for the savior, come aboard and dry your tear.

Alyssa
New Zealand

I looked out of my window into the ether, and there they were, dancing on the ocean, oblivious to the waves and tides. I looked again and knew they must be spirits. Clothed in white with golden crowns and gold shoes and dancing with abandon. I sometimes thought that when I'm gone I will be wearing a golden crown and gold shoes, because that is the vision I had for decades. But here they were, wearing the same golden crown and gold shoes, and dancing. Who dances in death? And who dances on water?

John
New York City

This Blog post is the perfect title for me to revisit because I just had another birthday. This time it is a spiritual birthday because I was baptized by full immersion in water. I did not understand the meaning of baptism until I came out of the water and saw the beautiful white robe that clothed me in the spirit realm. But I loved my multi-colored aura and the way that it danced when I walked. I loved the fact that it seemed to shimmer when I laughed, and was still when I was sad.

I loved also the way in which it bounced off the walls whenever I rocked my brother on my knee. He didn't seem to have an aura, but he loved to play with mine. I remember when I started to see it for the first time was when my aunt rocked me on her knee to try to comfort me. I could see the demons swirling around us, and they scared me half to death. But as she rocked me, one by one they left and never returned. I aged then, imperceptibly. I learned the power of love.

Aidan

Reasonable persons would agree that if you have the option to save a life, you should save it. Few would argue or contend that a person should be free to choose whether or not they will save a life. Yet, in the realm of the spirit, that is the debate taking place. I listen in stunned silence, wondering what could have befallen men and women of such high standing and integrity that they would question whether to give life, or to let it slip away.

Anonymous 1

All along the seashore, you can see the sands glistening in the sunshine. It is not often that I look at the sands; I tend to look more at the water itself. Today, however, I could not help but look at the sands, and at each grain as it laid bare its soul to the blazing sun. Tomorrow, there will be more sun, and the next day, and the next. Blazing sunshine warms the heart and soul of a city. I cannot help but whistle when the sun shines brightly. When the sun is shining, our God is smiling, and I too must smile.

I sometimes thought that when there is no sunshine, God must be sad, but I know now that he smiles even when there is no sunshine. He whistles even when the rain is falling. He sings even when the storm is brewing, and he loves, even when the heart is hating. He is, even when there is no being, and he was, even when there was no is. He, our God, our Creator, he is unchanging evermore, is eternal, is omnipotent, is unchanging evermore.

Anonymous 2

God of the heavens, Almighty God, Father of the universes, we call on your name. You sent us into the earth to redeem and to be redeemed. We went, loaded down with plans and promises, only to betray every one. Ten percent of us have fallen victim to Satan, and will serve with him for eternity. Twenty percent of us have been cut down, and all have betrayed. There is no remedy for betrayal, except to call on your name, and to seek your forgiveness. There is no remedy for being cut down before our time, other than to call to you from the depths of our despair. There is no remedy for having fallen, other than to seek your forgiveness, and to hope for an appointment outside of your kingdom for a time, times, and half a time. I have betrayed, I have not fallen. I confess and repent as of today. I accept whatever the Lord God determines is the appropriate punishment that will remedy this betrayal. All that I have, I give to you, to do with as you wish. All that I am, I give to you, to do with as you please. All that I hope to be is in you. My eternity is in you. In Jesus' name, Amen. God Almighty reigns, Amen.

J. C.
New York City

There is a place in Ethiopia that everyone believes was the Garden of Eden. It is a barren wasteland, but rumor has it that things are beginning to grow there once again. There are weeds and grass and things that have no meaning for our lives, but the idea that this plot of land can produce anything astounds even the heartiest agriculturists. Some areas are not supposed to be capable of growing anything. However, when you become a friend of heaven, nothing is impossible. Barren wastelands will become fertile, and deserts will produce fruit.

There are many places on this continent of ours that are deemed barren wastelands, deserts incapable of producing anything but sand dunes. We now know that when the Lord God becomes king of the earth, every land will be fertile ground. Every land that acknowledges him will bear fruit. Every land that becomes a friend of heaven will be eternally at rest, and every land that is at rest will know what it is to be a Garden of Eden. God Almighty reigns.

Nahan
Ethiopia

Everyone thinks that heaven is in the sky, far, far above the galaxy. That's not the heaven I want to go to. I want the heaven that's inside of me, the one that enables me to go anywhere, do anything, and live a life without limits. That's the heaven I need for my life here on this earth. So when anyone talks of going to heaven, I wonder to myself, "What are you waiting for? Go there now, before it's too late" and I think to myself, "What am I waiting for?" We are used to thinking of heaven as somewhere outside of ourselves, but the critical missing link that no one ever told us, is that the journey begins inside of us and ends inside of us, in our heart. It is a circle that begins and ends with us.

Wherever we seek to go, and whatever we seek to achieve, the journey begins and ends with us. That may be difficult to accept for those of us who are used to relying on family connections and school affiliations. However, we should consider that the physical aspects of our lives cannot possibly direct and control the spirit realm. It is in the spirit realm that the details of our lives are woven--in the secret chambers of our hearts. That truth, if believed, will not only set us free, it will catapult us into a new dimension of beingness. It also will enable us to see eternity.

Jane
Ethiopia

Heresy is a term that has been bandied about for decades, yet no one truly examines the concept. A heretic is someone who knows the truth, yet refuses to acknowledge it to himself or to others. When I looked at the meaning of this word in a dictionary I keep on my desk at work, I came to the conclusion that I myself was a heretic. I knew that I had two options. I could die as a heretic, or I could repent, ask for God's forgiveness and move forward. I chose the latter.

I too have seen the rapture in many visions I have had during prayer. I wasn't clear on what I was witnessing, but the details were memorable. I too saw the golden crowns and the white robes. I never saw the feet, but when I heard others speak of gold shoes, I re-examined the visions and saw the gold shoes. I now know that I was witnessing the rapture and the commencement of the millennial reign of Christ. It was difficult for me to acknowledge the truth of his coming kingdom, particularly because of my Jewish heritage. But I thank God for the people who have written on this Blog for the past several weeks, because they have gently and lovingly led me to the truth, and to an acknowledgment of who I am in Christ.

When we come to a place when the truth stares us in the eye, those among us who desire a world of truth are compelled to surrender to its gaze. We cannot help but see that the world is what we ourselves have made it, and in order for it to be different it is we who must remake it. It is we who must decide that tomorrow can and will be different. And, most importantly, it is we who must change.

A Former Law School Dean

All of heaven awaits the reveal of the sons of God, but what heaven does not know is that God has, not only sons, but also daughters. He has daughters born of men, just as Eve was born of Adam. He has daughters born of women, and he has daughters born of the Spirit. The daughters born of the Spirit are the ones who will inherit eternity, because one must be born of water and of the Spirit in order to inherit eternity.

One is born of the Spirit if one accepts the indwelling Holy Spirit of God as one's life partner and becomes one with God. Then, in order for them to be raptured, they must become full of the Holy Spirit, as evidenced by a white robe that covers their ethereal body when viewed in the spirit realm.

One might question how someone as young as I has such deep knowledge. The issue, however, is not physical age, but the degree and extent of one's surrender to God. I am fully and completely surrendered to God, and am aligned with him in every cell of my being. I have discovered that the more surrendered I became, the more of God's wisdom became available to me. I can tap into the highest levels of God's wisdom, provided that my degree of surrender is commensurate with that wisdom.

All of heaven awaits the reveal of the sons of God. I thought the Bible must surely contain an error when it spoke of sons and no daughters. I know now that we all are sons if we are born of the Holy Spirit. There is no male and female in God's kingdom. My sonship derives, not from the fact that I was born male, but rather, because I was born of God's Holy Spirit, and everyone born of the Spirit becomes a son of God. God will not have different roles for men and women. All will be assigned according to their skill and their ability.

Anonymous 5

I always loved singing the song, "When the saints go marching in" and I imagined, as I sang, what it would be like to be "in that number" as the song says. I never imagined, however, that we would come to that point in time, only to discover that the church is as unprepared for his appearance as Israel was when he first appeared. I imagined us in the throws of a magnificent revival, getting ready to dance our way into heaven. I imagined us all clothed in white, with golden crowns and gold shoes, because that is what I saw each time I had a vision of the rapture.

But as I look out over the earth in the spirit realm, it is Islam, not the church who is wearing gold shoes and clothed in white, and Israel is clothed in darkness. God's two witnesses have been murdered in Jerusalem, but even in our darkest hour, there is promise of a resurrection, there is yet hope, for those who would be hopeful. Saints of God, let's be numbered among the faithful, the priests of God, the raptured. Hallelujah, Amen.

Archdeacon Huggins