My journey to Mother began one spring afternoon when I asked my soul if we could travel. Could she could take me somewhere? As I lay on the bed, eyes shut, daylight filled the room. Behind my eyelids it was unusually dark. Black. And it kept getting blacker. I wasn’t scared, but excited. I had witnessed this phenomenon several times prior to this particular afternoon, eyes open or shut, while in the presence of the Holy Spirit.
Then I felt a subtle, sudden lurch. We were moving.
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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.
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