I held up the stubborn pen and squinted at it. “I know you’re God’s pen, because everything belongs to him.” Late this December evening, neither myself nor my faithful pen knew what to write. Trouble was, my memory of that day held missing time. While staring at the virgin white page, I decided to write what I could remember and trust the rest to God’s pen.
As I began to write in my notebook, I had no idea that this would become the most important night of my life.
Earlier that day while lying on my bed, a recurrent visitor I call an “adept” finally chose to accept my gift from Father. Adepts are clusters of flat, two-dimensional black specks who travel alone or in groups ranging from a few inches to many feet across. The specks themselves are triangle or polygon-shaped. They exist on ceilings, walls, and other flat surfaces. I also notice them on dying plants and injured areas on humans and animals. Most people don’t see them. After I asked God for Truth, I did. Adepts aren’t scary, but they can project an energy that causes my heart to skip a beat. They do this when they want my attention. It’s not a pleasant feeling, but we’ve established some rapport of late. At issue? The specks seek ascension. And, they seem to think that Father’s gift can help them.
Today was the day. Same as the two previous two afternoons, I held up my hands and waited. I was careful not to point directly at the adept. “You want hands?” I asked aloud. At that, the dark cluster of specks began inching across the ceiling toward the focus area. This was the largest and darkest adept I’d seen, perhaps four feet across. My attention, however, remained fixed on the bright “star” in the center of the cluster. I did my best to love this stranger, for God’s loving light is the power that Father had placed in my hands.
But I was no stranger to the work. Some months earlier, Father had signaled me to use my gift with this species. Today, despite the adept’s large size, the healing went as expected. When my hands connected with its intense energy, it felt like I’d touched a wet wall socket. Next, hundreds of tiny threadlike hairs, the longest almost three inches, emerged from my fingers and palms. This is normal for the process. Drawn upward by some unseen force, the thin hairs stretched and bent; quivering in earnest, as if God were sensing the needs of every minute speck.
Then I felt the release.
The Light Unleashed
All at once a dozen or so “helper stars” burst from my fingertips. I dropped my hands and watched these little pinpoints of white light enter the mass of specks above me. The helpers fanned out, surrounded the large central star, then promptly escorted it to the rim of the cluster. The instant the star exited, the dark mass vanished. I didn’t know whether the star had found freedom or been forcibly evicted. But the way in which it streaked across the ceiling—cutting a wide, graceful arc—conveyed a feeling of joyous thanks. The star grew brighter as it picked up speed, then plunged into the wall.
Another successful speck healing. I couldn’t write that I know all of the details of this process, but I’ve seen how the light in my hands can heal the darkness. I thanked Father for the chance to help the cause, and for encouraging me to love all of my bizarre visitors. While I pondered the event, my eyes grew heavy. Time for a nap. I closed my eyes.
“Nice job!” my soul suddenly exclaimed. Her praise cheered me. “Now, let your mind go blank.”
Easier said than done, I thought to her. But I did my best to comply with my dear one’s instructions. A short while later, I began to see shifting shapes and colors. The shapes merged, reformed, endlessly creating new shapes and colors. I watched them for a time. There seemed no recognizable pattern. Then, as I drifted off, I heard a soft, murmuring voice. Not my soul’s, yet familiar nonetheless…
I stopped writing and stared expectantly at my notebook. Is that all? I remembered nothing beyond the quiet voice. What happened next… what did the voice say? I got up. Perhaps some coffee would help. But just as quickly as I arose, I sat down. The pen and I shared a brief, meaningful connection. So I picked it up. Unexpectedly and without my assistance, God’s pen sprang to life.
I am about to show you who I am. What I have to share with you will seem strange. Some of it will frighten you. Know that I have existed for a very long time. I have many, many creations—forms and energies that I use, some that I have used in earlier times. Though they will seem bewildering, and some will create fear in your mind, know that these are my tools. They—are me. They are who and what I am. Who I have become—yes, “become”—through my works.
All is me. Some things were here since the beginning which are not of my making. I used them, wove them into creation, altered their forms and merged them with others to bring about the place which you now know. Do not be afraid. Do not judge me by your human standards, for they cannot be applied to me.
It is through the judgment of me by my children that they can be harmed. Feel pain. This is because, on their own and by themselves, many of my forms and energies can be deadly. It is important for you to understand that I must be known by the whole of my being. Not by my parts.
You are all made in my image. Just as your bodies have organs and systems to remove contaminants and ensure survival, so does mine. It is important that you not become a toxic substance, for my body will eliminate all toxins. These will not be wasted—they will, as I am about to show you, be reformed, merged, and used to further my ongoing creation.
I stared at the last three words, dropped God’s pen, stood, then fell to the floor. Vast waves of emotion crested then broke: gratitude, love, unworthiness, fear, relief, joy. “Father!” I sobbed. This cycle repeated several times. After ten minutes, my face stained with tears, I grew calm. God’s pen caught my eye once more. The best was yet to come.
I answered you when you called. When you said you wanted to forget everything you knew and start again. I asked you a simple question, and though you were half-asleep, your heart provided the correct answer immediately. Had you been fully conscious, you would have answered differently. I tell you this now so that you will know, despite your complaint that you know not. You say that no one tells you anything. You do not need to be told. Remember this.
Now, I will show you everything. You will not remember much of it. But you will remember that I have shared everything with you, my son.
—Andrew Michael, 2013-12-7