Mom would have wanted me to write you these stories. Take them as reports from your brother, for that is what they really are. I have every day thought about writing you, but I know you don't want anyone pushing religion on you. Sorry. It isn't religion I am pushing, but an actual relationship with the Living God. Not a fantasy relationship, but a real one, all sparkly and exciting. I don't go to church myself, though I would love to have some serious Christian fellowship. I just know too much about God for me to put up with the moronacy that has taken over the modern "Christian" church.
Anyway, I have started to write to you several times, and the problem is: how to write to you? At 75 years of age, my hand cramps up if I write by hand, and it isn't necessarily legible. You do not have a smart phone, e-mail, or digital messaging. I do frequently write blog posts you could read (I have well over two thousand posts on my blog, and over 573,000 views), but you can't access my web site. My regular blog is "The Becoming God," at imagicworldview.blogspot.com. This letter is going into my new blog, "Letters for a Sister," at lettersforasister.blogspot.com. My first blog was "The Lost Flocks of Jethro." Its url is thebecominggod.blogspot.com. I didn't know how to change the title of the blog to keep that url address, so I just started a new blog with imagicworldview.) My worldview is that the whole world is imagic--an image--of God, who is Himself becoming more complete in and through it. Our personally created "worlds" are His communication to us: we are either creating a world without God, or a world that manifests Him, i.e., IS Milta.
Who cares what happened thousands of years ago if it isn't happening NOW? I have written a number of times in my blog that if someone whacked you up alongside your head with a two-by-four, you'd certainly know it, and no one in the whole world could possibly convince you otherwise. Well, I've been whacked by God, and I want you to also be whacked--a person who has indisputable, personal evidence of the PRESENT DAY reality of God and of Christ's lordship. What good is a god who can't answer?
Stories:
I got interested in kindergarten occult stuff out of high school. The Beatles were introducing Eastern philosophies and religions, TM, we played with Quija boards, songwriters were on acid, the Whole Earth Catalogue, dream analysis, Edgar Cayce and Jean Dixon--you know the drill. I pursued the apparent spiritual part of me with Transcendental Meditation, and, dissatisfied with that, joined an occult meditation class in Honolulu--trying to read auras, levitate, open chakras, etc.
So there I was one morning in a meditation, opening a door I had made in my mental workshop, to allow an Ascended Master to enter my mind. Mano y mano training time! Descending a ramp in the distance was a figure, a glowing man. Could it be . . . Jesus? It was impressed upon me that this was THE Jesus of the New Testament who had learned the secrets of the spirit and had taught them privately to his disciples to teach their disciples. But unspiritual men who wanted to control society had gotten political power in the church, and being unspiritual had discounted the spiritual secrets as but legends and superstitions. It was further impressed upon me that because I was a truly sincere disciple, like His original disciples, the Ascended Master Jesus was coming to teach me--privately--the things He had learned in His life (I was as sincere as I was stupid, which is to say I was VERY sincere). I was also quite humbled and amazed.
But something was off. I couldn't quite put my finger on it. Peering into the darkness, I watched Jesus approach my mind. He had the white robe, sash, long hair, beard--the whole nine yards. Light was emanating from him. As he got closer, in my imagination I looked at the light emanating from him itself. Suddenly, I could see through the light and into the spirit being itself. The light was just a façade, and the spirit behind it was all darkness within. TWO things immediately struck me. One: the thing that wasn't exactly kosher here was that this entity needed my permission to enter my mind, because it was of less authority than I. I was of the earth, and it was of below the earth. As a deceiving spirit, it couldn't actually enter me unless I lowered my authority to it. And two: my mind's eye had just been acted upon by someone beyond myself, enabling it to see something this "Jesus" had not wanted me to see. This entity had wanted me NOT to see that it had been tricking me for many years, but was powerless to stop the one who had just exposed it. And that one had been fully aware all this time, using the entity's work for his own advantage to cultivate some spiritual talent in me, and he was now intervening--not needing my permission, because he was of greater authority than mine--to "harvest" me for himself. Amazed and humbled, I closed the door.
I lie there thinking: spirit stuff is indeed real, BUT I'VE BEEN GOING THE WRONG WAY. My pickup truck was just a few minutes bike ride away. (For the previous year I'd been illegally living in a homemade camper shell in the Ala Wai harbor.) Although I was 25, I still had the zippered King James Bible mom had bought me when I was 7 years old. I opened it to the concordance like I knew what I was doing and found 'Deceive'. That sent me to Revelation 12:9-12:
9 And the great dragon was cast out, that old serpent, called the Devil, and Satan, which deceiveth the whole world: he was cast out into the earth, and his angels were cast out with him.
10 And I heard a loud voice saying in heaven, Now is come salvation, and strength, and the kingdom of our God, and the power of his Christ: for the accuser of our brethren is cast down, which accused them before our God day and night.
11 And they overcame him by the blood of the Lamb, and by the word of their testimony; and they loved not their lives unto the death.
12 Therefore rejoice, ye heavens, and ye that dwell in them. Woe to the inhabiters of the earth and of the sea! for the devil is come down unto you, having great wrath, because he knoweth that he hath but a short time.
Uh-oh. I'd just been whapped upside along my head with a spiritual two-by-four, and THIS STUFF IS REAL!
I could literally hit where Lynn lived with a well chucked rock, so I went to tell her what had happened. She had news for me. Mom had been sending her "Jesus" books, and had half the Christian world praying for us (for you, too). Lynn read the books by her taxi's dome light at night while she awaited fares. She had developed a horrible, splitting migraine that was just killing her. A mutual friend of ours, Ralph, was a Christian and was trying to console her. "Ralph," she said, as flippantly and as sarcastically as she could muster, "Jesus gave me this headache, AND HE CAN HAVE IT!" She told me, "It left. That instant. Completely. I couldn't make my head hurt. "
Ralph had taken Lynn to a Pentecostal fellowship called The House of Praise, where she confessed Jesus as her Lord and Savior (see "the power of His Christ," above). A week later, she took me.
Danny
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