A MESSAGE FROM GOD (A MIRACLE?) PART 3

The brother, the angelic voice wanted me to contact, was my older brother (I will not be mentioning his name.) Whose favorite habit was drinking a bottle of wine, sometimes two or more on a daily basis. His addiction to wine (which he nicknamed, "blood"), always baffled me. He had a brilliant mind, and a zest for life, which also kept him shrouded in mystery. His three great passions, were a love for God, the Holy Bible, and his fellow man. His preferred circle of friends were the addicted, the mentally- challenged, and the poor of his neighborhood. A few people were jealous of him and despised his kind ways. Others found his compassion for their plight genuine, and saw that some of the burdens he was carrying from his life, mirrored their own. They shared their love of wine, laughter and many tears together. 1 John 4:7 reads, "Beloved, let us love one another: for love is of God; and everyone that loveth is born of God."
My problem with finding my brother when he was intoxicated, meant getting in touch with people who had far worse habits than alcoholism. I called my sister to see if she knew where he might be. To my surprise and hers, she said he was in the house. And, instead of being drunk as usual, he had been cold- sober all day long; he was not asleep but wide-awake. It was now after midnight Monday morning.
From the first moment I spoke to him, I knew my sister was right his mind was clear and sharp, his voice strong. I wasn't talking to someone, who had abused alcohol for well over twenty-five -years. I was talking to the brother my mother had described in my youth, the one with all the potential of obtaining his dreams and so much more. I started the conversation by explaining what had happened earlier in the day to my daughter. He was amazingly calm and listened quietly. When I got to the part where I was describing Our Lord Jesus Christ, appearing between the two white clouds, my brother became very quiet and asked to be excused, fifteen minutes later he returned. Upon his return he asked me very calmly to continue telling him what his niece had seen. When I started to describe the other things that appeared in the holy picture of Jesus (including what was over his left shoulder, which later was erased from my memory), that's when my brother asked to be excused a second time, and left me waiting for his return this time for over twenty minutes. I was beginning to wonder if he was sneaking off to drink, so upon his return I asked him where was he going when he would leave the telephone? He told me, "Each time he left he went to pray. To bury his head in the Bible and pray." I then asked him if I should continue? He said, 'Yes'. I started to tell him about the other things my daughter had seen, when he stopped me to ask a question. "Were there any children running with the adults across the clouds below Jesus?" I said, no. He didn't say anything. So, I told him how afraid I was for my daughter and if seeing Jesus meant something was going to happen to her? He then said, "Since there were no children running with the adults then Jesus was not here for my daughter. (I breathe a deep sigh of relief.) He continued and said, "I believe the appearance of Jesus, means someone in our family is going to die." And then he said, "I think you should prepare yourself for that possibility." I simply said, "I understand." And the conversation continued as he spoke pausingly, "I think ... it's a close relative, like ... an aunt or an uncle. No ... no, it's someone closer much closer then that ... its ... a sister ... or a brother!" With that heart-wrenching announcement he became very quiet, and suddenly he was no longer on the telephone. He had slipped away, perhaps to go and pray again. At least, that's what I told myself. I wasn't sure what was going on as I waited for his return. So much was racing through my mind about the information he had given me, and how I never asked how he had arrived at his conclusions. A little over twenty minutes later, when he came back to the telephone, I could tell by his voice something had happened. My brother has often told me throughout my life, and with sincerity, that he has always felt he was at least one hundred years old. I used to tease him when he would say this, but his voice now reflected that age, he sound tired- very tired. So, I listened intently to every word he had to say. What follows is a close account of that blessed conversation. He begin by saying pausingly, "It's me! ...It's me! ... It's my time! ... It's my time! ... But I'm not ready! ...I'm not finished with my work! ... I'm not finished with my work!"
I thought my brother was overreacting to Our Lord's appearance (I was wrong. I was the messenger. The message was for my brother, and his reaction to it meant he understood it perfectly. Praise God!) "What are you talking about?" I said, "You're not going anywhere!" He became very quiet. Then a sudden calm came over him and his voice was now soft and soothing, no longer tired. He said, "Listen to me. (he said my name) Listen to me. I want you to pray for someone you don't know. And, don't tell me who that person is." (I borrowed this last caring thought for his fellow man from my brother. I felt that since it was so important to him for me, "to pray for someone I didn't know," it should be equally important to share the same thought with my readers. My brother was right. Everyone needs our prayers, whether we know them or not. So, I put this precious thought at the end of most of my posts, in memory of the love my brother had for all people.)
I didn't question his request. I simply said,"okay." I remembered reading a very tragic story in the newspaper a few weeks before, that I couldn't
get off my mind. So, I immediately said a prayer for the person mentioned in the article. When I finished my prayer, I placed the telephone up to my right ear and started talking to my brother, suddenly a powerful burst of energy passed from him through the reciever into me. It didn't hurt, but I did feel it as it enter into my body. I immediatly asked my brother, "What was that?" He simply said in a very calm voice, "It's alright. It's alright. Don't worry about it." A sudden calmness came over me and the incident was forgotten (for two months). My brother and I continued to talk for another fifteen minutes or so about personal matters close to his heart. I felt no need to question him, I knew spiritually I was there to listen only. When his conversation came to an end, I managed to thank him for explaining Our Lord Jesus Christ's, appearance and what such a glorious event meant. He paused and for a moment got very quiet and said once again in a calm soft voice, "I want to tell you I love you, my sister. Goodnight."
My conversation with my brother started late Sunday night and lasted until after 1:30 am Monday morning. When I awoke from sleeping I had no memory of ever speaking to him. God had erase all memory of that Sunday and early Monday morning from our minds, until He was ready to give us His permission to remember and speak of that glorious day. Praise God! And that permission came later (in the fourth and final part) of this blessed event.

Please, always pray for someone you don't know. And, don't tell anyone who that person is. May God Bless You.

Copyright 2007, 2008

A MESSAGE FROM GOD (A MIRACLE ?) PART 2

My daughter, who has never been subject to any kind of outburst, was a little upset at her mama. "Its too late! Its too late mommy! When you didn't come out
on the porch, the picture disappeared!" She snapped. I took both of her hands in mine, kissed them and apologized for not coming to see her picture. I asked her to tell me what she saw. The description of what my seven-year-old saw on July 12,1981 at 7pm on a Sunday, is very close to her exact words as she told me of the miraculous blessing. "When I went out on the front porch, I saw a lot of white birds across the street (I believe what she saw were doves) so I started watching them through my toy telescope. At first the white birds were flying low to the ground in front of the house across the street. Then, they suddenly flew up and over the house, flying higher and higher across the sky. As they flew pass two beautiful white clouds, the birds disappeared. The white clouds were sitting side-by-side in the middle of the sky. As I watched them with my telescope, they parted and a man, with a very bright light behind him, appeared between the two large white clouds." I stopped her to ask a question. "What did the man look like?"
"He had long brown hair, that in the bright light looked kinda reddish- brown, he had a beard and it was also reddish-brown in the light, and he had blue eyes." I was stunned, my mind was racing, my heart was pounding in my chest, and I had to ask myself the question. Did my little girl see Jesus Christ?
I had to calm myself down before I asked her my next question. "Tell me more about the man in the sky? Did he say anything to you?
"No, he didn't say anything to me. He was just looking down at all the people, and he looked very very sad."
At that moment, my heart sanked. I then asked her, "What was he wearing?"
"I could only see the top of him between the two clouds, but he had on a light-colored shirt with a long piece of red cloth hanging across his shoulder. She then ran over to my mantel and took down a three inch statue of Jesus (that I've had for years) and said the man in the sky looked just like him, but this is little Jesus." She shouted.
I remember saying something to her about the statue of Jesus, but I can't remember what I said. A calm came over me, as I continued asking her questions. "What else did you see?" She begin to describe to me the other things she saw in the picture along with Jesus.
"Up over his right shoulder I saw a small building, it looked like a blue castle
(she also mention seeing something up over his left shoulder, but neither of us can remember just what that was) and below him I could see three people running. There was a woman in the middle, with a man on one side of her, and a man on the other side of her they were running across the small white clouds together below the man. I couldn't see their faces because they had some kinda long black cloth (a veil) covering their head and faces. That's all I saw, then I came inside to get you, so you could see the beautiful picture of the man between the clouds in the sky."
I apologized to my little girl once again for not coming outside with her. I gave her a big hug and a kiss, told her I loved her, and sent her to get ready for bed. I was now a nervous wreck. My mind was filled with a hundred questions in search of answers. I looked over to my husband (who had been sitting quietly the entire time.) "My statue of the Holy Mother's heart starts pulsating at the same time, our little girl was witnessing the appearance of Jesus Christ. Those
two things within themselves is miraculous and a blessing. But what does it all mean?"
"I don't know. I don't know what it means!" My husband kept saying as he rested his head in his hands. I could tell he was very worried. We didn't speak
of it, but we both grew up hearing the elderly tell stories of children being heaven bound, once they've seen or spoken to Jesus. But God, had already saved my little girl's life twice. Was He calling her home for the third and last time?
My husband was scared, and I was petrified at the thought. And, for the longest time you could hear a feather touch the carpet in my house, it was just that quiet. And, that's when the angelic voice returned and spoke into my right ear once again, "Ask your brother, (she said his name) he will know."

END OF PART 2

Copyright 2007, 2008

A LIFE SAVED BY GOD ( 1st TIME )

I was sitting at the dining room table giving my 9- day old baby girl a few ounces of water from her bottle, when my older daughter and her cousin playfully ran by us laughing and screaming. The baby had just taken a few sips of water, when she was startled by the outburst and started to choke! (Please don't give an infant water while young children are sharing the same room). My sister (who was visiting at the time) and I tried everything possible to clear her lungs of water, but nothing worked.
EMS (Emergency Medical Service) was on the way, but I felt they would not arrive in time. She was so tiny, so dependent on me to save her, and I was failing to do so. I was so afraid that she was going to die. I could feel the life draining out of her. As I took my baby (who still couldn't catch her breath) and held her aloft in front of me (in the center of my kitchen), I instinctively cried out to God for help. 'Please, please don't take my baby from me! You just gave her to me!' And, when I lowered her back into my arms, after what seemed like an eternity (but was only a moment), she was breathing normally.
Psalm 77:1 reads: "I cried unto God with my voice, even unto God with my voice; and he gave ear unto me."
The EMS crew had just entered the house. They took my baby, laying her on a mat on the dining table. After having examined her, they said she seemed to be breathing normally, but she needed to be taken to the hospital because of her age and to insure that no water remained in her lungs. While her lungs were being x-rayed, I prayed for my baby again.
And, because of the Grace of a merciful God, they found no trace of water left in her lungs.
I Praise God for Answered Prayers!

A LIFE SAVED BY GOD ( 2nd TIME )

On three (3) separate occasions, in one week, I had the same vision everytime I'd look out the window of my front door. In the vision, I was running down the opposite side of my block, screaming 'Help!' A week later, this vision became a living nightmare. When my five-year-old daughter fell unconscious after suffering a (complex) Febrile Seizure. The only difference in the vision and reality was my daughter.
I was running, with her in my arms, screaming for help. Her lips had turned a purplish color, and her temperature went from slightly-elevated to 103 in a matter of a few minutes. My next-door neighbor brought her out of her seizure (Praise God!). But, when she arrived at the hospital her temperature had risen to 104 (degrees). The doctors tried everything they could to get my daughter's temperature under control. They gave her a Spinal Tap (to detect infection), and packed her body in ice (among other things) and nothing seem to work. Still, her temperature continued to rise to 105 (degrees). The doctors also said they thought my daughter had been in the seizure too long-over (10 minutes) and that she may have suffered brain damage. Two days had passed, and her temperature was still at 105. The doctors informed me they had done everything possible and that if her temperature started to rise again, she would die. I was devastated. A few hours later, I looked over at my five-year-old, she was so red in color and very warm to the touch, but she was in no pain, and no discomfort what so ever. (Praise God!) She was smiling at me and giggling, and moving about in her hospital bed. Later, when I had to leave for fifteen minutes, she even had enough strength to sneak out of her bed, pass the Nurses Station, and play in the playroom, with the other sick children. The doctors were unable to explain to me how she could be acting like a healthy five-year-old, but medically be so close to death.
She should have been too weak, too sick to get out of bed. Yet, she managed to do so. That night, I was so exhausted I just laid across the
foot of my daughter's bed after she went to sleep, and took a nap. The nurses were kind enough not to disturb me as they continue to monitor her throughout the night. I awoke about 5 (am) and was told she had been sleeping peacefully, but her temperature had started to rise again ever so slowly toward 106 (degrees). It was while listening to the nurse, that a serene calm suddenly came over me, and I started to remember the spiritual things that had happened to me, during the week of my daughter's arrival at the hospital. Each time, I entered the hospital to visit my daughter, I would have to walk pass the hospital chapel, and when I did, I'd feel a light tugging on my right arm. It was as if something or someone was pulling me toward the chapel. But, when this happened, I'd resist, telling myself I didn't have time to go in, I had to be with my daughter. After thinking about it, I realized this had happen to me on at lease three separate occasions, and I became suddenly aware that, I hadn't prayed! Oh my God! I hadn't prayed for my little girl! I always pray! I pray for people I know, people I don't know. Yet, I forgot to pray for my own child! How could I forget to pray?!
That had never happened to me before!
It was a little past five in the morning, when I knelt beside my daughter's hospital bed and asked God for forgiveness.
Psalm 9:1 reads, "I will praise thee, O Lord with my whole heart; I will shew forth all thy marvellous works."
I didn't follow scripture. I had ignored the presence of God, when I was
shown the vision at my front door 3 different times, for a week. God was there. I was blind to His presence when my little girl was burning up with fever, yet she was happy, and was not suffering. God was there loving and comforting her. And, when I was being spiritually pulled to the chapel for prayer, it was God tugging gently on my arm pleading for me, to come with Him and pray for my little girl. How could I have been so absorbed in a crisis that literally screamed for the intervention of God, and not call upon Him?!
I was mystified and ashamed at my actions. "Oh, my God please forgive me! Please forgive me!" I asked with fervency, as I prayed for forgiveness
and help for my little girl - that, if its His will, to please save her life, once again (He had saved her life at (9) days old. See second post).
When I finished praying, I felt in spirit, it was alright to leave the hospital for a short time, just long enough to check on my eight-year-old daughter, who was very sick with the flu, and also had a rising temperature.
It took fifteen minutes to ride from the hospital to my home, another ten minutes to find out my daughter's temperature had subsided and she was doing fine (Praise God!). As my husband and I turned to rush back to the hospital, the telephone rang. It was a nurse calling from the Nurse's Station outside my daughter's hospital room. She was so excited, she was screaming into the telephone that my daughter's temperature had suddenly gone from 105 (point something) degrees and rising (a death watch) to a life-saving 103 degrees, in a matter of a couple of minutes.
She said that the hospital staff couldn't understand, what had happened!
I knew they thought my daughter was going to succumb to her illness because she was so sick. But, God had other plans for my little girl (which you can read about in my next post) and saved her life once again, and I praised a most merciful God. The doctors also said my daughter would suffer with more Febrile Seizures during her life, but the Lord has been watching over her. And to this day, many years later, those seizures have never occurred, and there was no damage to her brain from the childhood seizure. Psalm 29:2 reads, "Give unto the Lord the glory due unto his name; worship the Lord in the beauty of holiness."

I PRAISE GOD FOR ANSWERED PRAYERS!

Please, always pray for someone you don't know. And, tell no one who that person is. May God Bless you.

Copyright 2007 , 2008.

THE YELLOW CAB

On this particular day in January 2000, my husband and I had been having a difference of opinion off and on over silly stuff for a couple of days. So, when I needed to go back to a department store to exchange a pair of shoes, he got even more upset. When we arrived at the department store, he asked me a question as I was getting out of the truck. I couldn't hear him because of the high volume of traffic leaving the parking lot. He didn't repeat the question, so I didn't think anymore about it and continued on my way. Just as I stepped inside the store, my angel's voice (female) whispered in my right ear and spoke my husband's name, and told me "he had left." I turned around to look to see whether he was parking the truck; he was not. There were now only a few scattered cars in the lot. For some reason, I was not concerned that he had seemingly left. Not hearing anything more from my angel, I went about taking care of my business, exchanging my shoes.

Upon leaving the department store, I looked for my husband to see if he had returned; he had not. I waited for fifteen minutes, then I just started walking in the direction of my home. The weather had gotten worse It was terrible outside--snow mixed with freezing rain made walking treacherous. I made it over a block on the dimly-lit street before slipping on some ice and falling hard to the pavement. I was covered from head to toe in a wet, freezing mess and on top of that I had hurt my right ankle. I looked around to see if I could get some help in getting up, but there wasn't a single person on the street walking or driving. After about ten minutes of struggling, I managed to get up on my feet, picked up my purse and shoe bag and continued gingerly down the block.

I started to pray. It was dark, and I felt unsafe and talking to God has always had a calming effect on me. I was walking on the street where there was a long stretch of barren, unlit property. Just as I got a little less than halfway down the block, out of the darkness walking across this empty lot, were six (I assumed) young teenage boys all were wearing dark clothing with hoodies. The angle at which they were crossing the property - and the pace at which they were walking - would put them less then ten feet in front of me, and that's exactly what happened. I tried to make myself as small as possible so as not to be noticed. For whatever reason they didn't notice me, and once they passed in front of me, they never turned around to look behind them. After a few minutes, I started to feel very comfortable walking behind them. (I really did.) I could have literally ran up eight feet and touched them, they were just that close. As we walked, it was as if they were escorting me down the unlit street It was an additional two long blocks of semi-darkness before they crossed the street, just before we came to a brightly-lit intersection, and disappeared into the night.

When I told this story to an elderly friend of mine, she thought the young men were God's angels, sent to walk with me in the darkness until I reached the light. I think she was right--because of what happened next...

By the time I reached the intersection, it was void of any kind of traffic--walking or driving. Everything was either closed or looked deserted. I looked around for a public telephone, having found three, but they were all out of order. So I continued walking, stopping occasionally to look for a bus, I didn't see one. (I didn't have enough money left for a cab, and I wasn't sure my husband was at home to pay for one). I was still a long way from home. My clothes were soaked from a combination of falling down and the rain. My hands were freezing, and my right ankle throbbed with pain. (I was in trouble.) I started to pray again, while I was walking closing my eyes (this time) for only a few seconds talking to God (my constant companion) and asking for His help.

No sooner had I said my prayer and opened my eyes, the brightest color of yellow I have ever seen filled my eyesight. I was within a finger's length (and I mean that literally) of a huge 1940's-style yellow cab with white mist emanating from all over it. (There had been no cab anywhere on the streets around me when I closed my eyes for a couple seconds to Pray.) Now suddenly there was one right in front of me. Praise God!

It was just sitting there directly across my path, if I had taken another step I would have been in the cab. I was just standing there stunned. The driver said 'get in', and I managed to blurt out, 'Where did you come from?' He just smiled. (To this day I can't give a description of the cab driver, and I was looking directly at him. What I will say is that he was a most kind and extremely friendly, smiling individual.) Once again, I wasn't afraid. A calmness had come over me. So, I decided to take a seat in the cab, if for no other reason than to rest my aching body for a few minutes. While sitting, I decided to tell the cab driver I didn't have the total fare to get home. But before I could say anything, he turned around and said, "I am here to take you home. There will be no charge." I suddenly felt (in spirit) incredibly safe. I was just about to give him my address, when he quickly turned the cab around and started heading in the direction of my house, as if he knew where I lived. I blurted out my address anyway, sat back and enjoyed the unexpected ride home. While riding there was conversation between the cab driver and myself, but I can't remember what we talked about.

When he pulled up in front of my home my husband's truck was in the driveway, so I told the cab driver I could pay him the fare. He smiled and shook his head, 'no' and said, "You are safely home." I thanked him for his kindness, stepped up on my porch, turned to wave him on, but the driver and his 1940's-style yellow cab had vanished.

On that night, there was a miscommunication between my husband and myself that could have easily turned out badly for me. I praised a most loving God for his kindness in watching over me in my hours of distress, and for providing me with a special cab ride home. Praise God!

Copyright 2007-2009

A MESSAGE FROM GOD (A MIRACLE?) PART 4

On the following Wednesday afternoon about 3:30 pm, I was visiting my sister I stayed for about an hour, then called a cab. A few moments later, my brother staggered through the front door. His clothes were dirty and soaked from perspiration. Breathing very heavily, he immediately asked for a glass of water. While my sister hurried to get it. I approached him. I was only standing about four feet away when I called out his name. He didn't answer. I wanted to know how he was feeling and if I could help him in any way. So I called his name again. This time, I was looking into his eyes- standing almost in front of him- he looked right through me, as if I wasn't there. I was for some reason physically invisible to him. As my sister gave him the glass of water, he said, "I just helped a man push his stalled car over ten blocks to his house in all this heat." It was over 100 degrees that day. As I was listening, I heard a horn blow. It was my cab. I said a quick 'good-bye', and as I was leaving, I glanced back at my brother- realizing that he not only couldn't see me, but he also couldn't hear my voice.

And that was the last time I saw my brother alive. As this was happening, I still had no memory of having talked to him on the telephone or of any of the miraculous events that had transpired on the previous Sunday. When I arrived home everything was normal, until a little after 7 pm that night. I had received a frantic telephone call from my sister, informing me that our brother had suffered a seizure and then a massive heart attack. He died while en route to the hospital. He was forty-five years old. After the autopsy, the medical examiner stated to a family member, "Your brother had a smile on his face when he died." John 5:24 reads, "Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that hearth my word, and believeth on him that sent me, hath everlasting life, and shall not come into condemnation; but is passed from death unto life."

When I was getting dressed to meet with family to make funeral arrangements, the memory of the appearance of Our Lord Jesus Christ to my little girl and the conversation I had with my brother on the telephone, returned in vivid detail. And I knew in spirit it was God, letting me know that it was time to tell my family about the miraculous gift given to my brother. I did so during our family meeting. In reflection, God had given my brother yet another most precious gift three (3) days to put his affairs in order and say his 'good-byes'.

And that's exactly what he did. His message was a simple one as he went around to family, friends and neighbors, telling each one that he loved them and to love one another. A few thought it was the wine talking; others thought he was unusually happy and so animated. Still, most simply appreciated the kindness of a caring thought. But no one thought it would be the last time they would see him alive.

Later, I sat down at the dining room table with another sister to start writing his obituary. Neither of us could find the words to describe our brother's life. His life was not ordinary by any stretch of the imagination; it was truly blessed by God. He used to say, "he had more lives then a cat." He'd say this because something or someone (and not always a total stranger), was always trying to take his life. But, they failed because God would move him out of harms way. For example, he was blessed when the would-be object of his demise, a loaded hand gun, was place to his head in a robbery attempt. The gunman pulled the trigger several times, but the gun kept misfiring, leaving my brother badly shaken, but uninjured. Another blessing came when he was serving in the Navy. Aboard ship working below deck, he was permitted to go up on deck for a smoke. As soon as he lit his cigarette, there was an explosion below deck in the part of the ship where he would have been on duty- had the Lord not moved him to a safe area. He lost several close friends in that horrible accident.

There are many more moments of peril where his life was in danger and he was miraculously spared, but in truth there are too many to write about in this part of his story. What I would like to do is tell you about the lives my brother saved (that I know about).

Once whilst sleeping he heard a scream come from the dining room. Some friends were visiting my sister and they brought with them a popular board game (the name of which I won't mention- only that it involved being able to speak to unknown and often evil spirits). As the game progressed, the board literally became more and more agitated by a young girl's questions, until suddenly evil spirits summoned by her careless antics (invisible to everyone but my brother) materialized around the game board and entered into the girl's body, knocking her back in the chair onto the floor. My brother rushed over to her, and held her body. He could see (in spirit) multiple evil spirits literally pulling her spirit through a dark window. He said that he never stopped praying to God during this struggle of life- and-death for the young girl. The Lord answered his prayers by sending angels, who filled the dining room with their prayers until it became so hot with the Lord's Glory that whatever evil had hold of the girl was destroyed and she was saved. The young girl could not remember what had happen to her.

My brother, with the Lord's blessings, also: saved the lives of two drug addicts who had overdosed; delivered twin baby boys in an elevator that was stuck between floors in a hospital. He saved many lives by interceding in violent arguments, by calming the combatants with a kind voice and prayers. He was of tremendous help to the elderly and the sick always offering love and compassion.

My brother put his life- and the many gifts God blessed him- with- on the line for people he knew and strangers as well, all the time. Praise God! That's why my sister and I were struggling not only with what to write, but how much to write. Everything in my brother's life (and that includes the things he did for people that we have no knowledge of) had a direct bearing on why Our Lord Jesus Christ, appeared to my little girl with a message from a most merciful God to her uncle. On the side of the dining room table, where my sister and I sat, laid my late mother's beatiful Holy Bible. (It was the bible my brother had bought for her while stationed in Italy).With so many questions to answer, I was suddenly spiritually moved to pull the Bible over to me. As I did so, my sister asked what I was going to look up. I told her that I didn't know.

Just, as I spoke, my right hand moved in spirit to open the Bible. I then started searching through the pages, slowly at first then more rapidly. This was the first time my right hand had moved in spirit. It continues to do so ever so often to this day. (Please Check out my other post about the book of 'Habakkuk').

My right hand came to rest on, Matthew 5: 3-12. Recognizing the scripture, I smiled and whispered, "Thank you Lord! Thank you Lord! For taking me by the hand and leading me to the scripture that describes my brother and his life." I looked over at my sister and said, "This is the scripture the Lord wants in our brother's obituary and that we need add nothing more " The particular passage was 'The Beatitudes'. Matthew 5: 3-12.

3. Blessed are the poor in spirit: for their's is the kingdom of heaven. 4. Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted.

5. Blessed are the meek: for they shall inherit the earth.
6. Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness: for they shall be filled.
7. Blessed are the merciful: for they shall obtain mercy.
8. Blessed are the pure in heart: for they shall see God.
9. Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be called the children of God.
10. Blessed are they which are persecuted for righteousness' sake: for their's is the kingdom of heaven.
11. Blessed are ye, when men shall revile you, and persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely, for my sake.
12. Rejoice, and be exceeding glad: for great is your reward in heaven: for so persecuted they the prophets which were before you.

My brother's obituary was now finished along with a photo of him in his Navy uniform. Everything was ready for the printer.

On the day of his funeral, friends, neighbors, the addicted and the sick all came all were welcome. They sat in the same pews next to one another, with all their differences set aside. If you were a stranger, you would have been unable to tell one group of people from the other. We were all crying and bearing our great lost as one family.

After the funeral, the same people who hadn't spoken to each other for years- because of their lifestyles etc- were laughing and conversing like lost friends reunited. It was truly a wondrous scene to behold, all in loving memory of my brother. His work was done, and God had sent His Son, "Jesus Christ" to call him home. Praise God!

1 John 4:20 "If a man say, I love God, and hateth his brother, he is a liar: for he that loveth not his brother whom he hath seen, how can he love God whom he hath not seen?"

And as my brother had asked of me, I now ask of my readers.

Please, pray for someone you don't know. And, don't tell anyone who that person is. May God bless you and your family.

Copyright 2007, 2008

A MESSAGE FROM GOD (A MIRACLE?) PART 1

What is a Miracle?

The Merriam Webster Collegiate Dictionary, defines a miracle as being: "An extraordinary event manifesting divine intervention in human affairs."

The Random House College Dictionary, defines a miracle as being: "An event in the physical world that surpasses all known human or natural powers and is ascribed to a divine or supernatural cause."

This next post is very difficult for me to write. Simply, because no matter how I tell this true story, my words will fall far short of describing properly the actual events. I will say, however everything that occurred on the date, July 12, 1981- a Sunday- rested in the holiest of hands, Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ-from the beginning of the events of that day to the glorious conclusion that week. It was a blessed event that took place in the life of my brother. On his behalf, I must tell you when he was born, it was said by the elders in my family, that he was born with a veil covering his face. I'm not exactly sure what that means, so I will leave it up to those of you who are interested to research it. I do know from the tidbits of his life I have been privy too, that God has a special place in His heart for my brother.

JULY 12, 1981 ( 7pm SUNDAY EVENING)

There was nothing unusual about this particular Sunday. The day started out very hot and quiet. I was sitting on my living room sofa,when my seven- year- old daughter ( this is the same little girl whose life had been saved by God twice) came out of her bedroom and asked me if she could go outside. I told her it was getting late (7pm) and that she would have to stay on the front porch. She wanted to take her (new) toy telescope with her, so I let her do so. As she left to go outside, I went to get my statue of Mary Jesus' mother off the television. (Check my other posts for her story.) I, then, went and sat back down on the couch. I wanted to say a prayer and talk to her. (It was something I did all the time.) I was holding my holy mother, the same way I always held her. I had my right index fingertip touching the right side of her heart and my left index fingertip touching the left side of her heart. When, suddenly, my fingers started to pulsate ever so slightly. I was startled at first, the statue had always moved in my presence, but her heart had never pulsated. I couldn't believe what I was feeling! So, I laid her down on the couch beside me as I nervously kept saying, "Oh my God! Oh my God!" Gently, I reached over and cradling her in both hands, I placed my fingertips back on her heart. It was pulsating now like a regular heartbeat. I got up and laid her down on the couch, and reached over to pick up the telephone to call my sister and tell her the glorious news. At that moment, my little girl burst into the living room shouting: "Mommy! Mommy! Come out on the porch, so you can see the beautiful picture of a man in the sky!" She grabbed my hand and started pulling me toward the front door. I told her I couldn't come and see her picture because something miraculous had just happen to me. As she continued to plead with me to go onto the front porch and see the 'picture of the man in the sky', I was just as bound and determined to call my sister and tell her about my statue of the holy mother's heart beating. It was literally a tug - of -war going on between us, to either go and see what my daughter was so excited about or call my sister. I chose to call my sister. My daughter turned and ran out the front door back to the porch. I remember placing the call to my sister and how excited she became once she heard the news, and how she couldn't wait to hold the statue in person. ( She has held my statue of the holy mother many times, but has never witnessed her moving.) That was about 7:10pm. I have no further memory of anything until 11 pm that Sunday night. (God, had erased the hours from 7:10 to 11pm from my mind.)
That night, my husband and I were sitting at the dining room table enjoying one another's conversation, when, the angelic voice whispered into my right ear, "Ask your daughter (she knew my daughter's name) what did she see?" Her message came just as my daughter was walking past the dining room table, getting ready to go to bed. When I stopped her and asked, "What were you trying to tell me earlier? What did you see in the sky?"

END OF PART 1


Copyright 2007, 2008