Kay

What if God wanted to tell you...?

Well, it had been yet another bad day in the office, and once again it was the fault of that new girl, MaryAnne. She is one of those Wiccans, a so called witch. How can anyone in their right mind make this claim, knowing that it goes against God and all of the teachings of the Bible?
She doesn't even have the common decency to keep her satanic symbol, her pentagram necklace hidden from the view of the decent, God fearing people in the office. She has some nerve.
I find that I cannot hate her for this though, for I know that she has been deceived. Satan works his evil in ways that she cannot see. I've seen that so called Wiccan Rede that she has tacked to the wall above her computer. On the surface, it looks like a decent loving belief, but all one must do is look, look closely and see that by practicing this way, and not embracing Jesus Christ as savior, she is on the pathway to hell.
As I've said, it was a bad day in the office. Three times in the past few weeks I have been called in to see my supervisor, and he has told me that I am not allowed to preach to MaryAnne the word of God, to show her the error of her ways. Today, my supervisor told me that if I continue to "harass" MaryAnne, he will be forced to terminate me. How can he say this? He himself is a God fearing man. And, how can he be so tolerant of the evil that he sees insinuating itself into our workplace?
As I lay down to sleep last night, I asked the Lord for guidance. "God, grant me a true vision of you, so that I may better lead the faithless onto the righteous path,"
"Oh, a true vision of Me is it? Are you sure that you're ready, truly ready to see, my son?"
I sat bolt upright in bed, and there, at the foot of my bed, white of hair and beard, in a long, flowing white robe, stood the Lord my God.
I made to leap from the bed and fall to my knees in front of Him, but he stopped me with a gesture.
"Kneel not before me at this time my son. Instead, rise and walk with Me, so that you may get a glimpse of what I truly am, as you asked of me in your prayer."
He took my hand, and as I looked, my bedroom was no longer there, but a pathway thru the woods. We started to walk, and I was too awestruck for words. We took the path to the left, and we were then inside St. Catherine's Church, in the middle of a service.
While still standing beside me, God seemed to expand and fill the whole of the church. I could see smiles of contentment forming on some of the parishioners faces. I felt blessed. God smiled upon me.
"The Catholics hold such pretty masses, don't they? I like to stop here in this church, because not only do they speak the words, but they live the life, thru teaching, helping the sick and poor, not only with handouts, but helping them learn to help themselves. Now let us walk on."
And we were back on the pathway. We traveled a bit further along, and then were in the parlor of a funeral home. A young woman was kneeling before the casket, resting her head on it and crying. I could see by the similarity, that this dead man must be her father.
God knelt bedside her, and drew His arms about her. "Miss him, that is all right, but weep not for him, for now he is with Me."
She wiped her eyes, and stood with a sad smile upon her face, and said "Good-Bye Daddy. I'll miss you." and turned and left the room.
And we were back on the pathway.
We walked a little ways, and we were in front of a large lodge of some kind. I could hear music and laughter spilling out of the window. I turned to look at God, and was shocked to see, not the flowing white robe, but Him wearing leather and animal furs, his hair and beard now the color of wheat, and a sword strapped across His back. He strode forth, and I saw him approach a figure I had not seen before. As I looked close, I was shocked to see that it was the same face that I had just seen dead, but looking young and strong, and dressed in ancient looking garb, an ax strapped to his waist.
God strode up to him and grabbed him in a great bear hug. "Welcome my son. We've been waiting for you. Now, go inside and raise a cup or two, and meet with your brother." And, with a hearty slap on the back, he sent the man inside. And then we were back on the pathway.
We walked a fit further, and then we were in a mosque. At least I believed so, as I had never been in one before, but had seen pictures of them. The group of worshippers was not large, but I could see their rapt faces as they listened to the mullah speak. He was speaking to them of purity, both of the mind and the body, bringing them closer to Allah. And as he spoke, God, dressed now in the robes of the desert, walked among them and briefly laid his hands upon each set of shoulders. And, from their faces, I could see that these men knew that the words of the mullah were true, and that their spirits felt touched by God. And then we were back on the pathway.
After we had walked a bit, we found ourselves in an African village. People with skin as black as night, the women with their breasts shamefully bared, were dancing in a circle, to the rhythm of the drums being played by a group of men. Somehow though, I was not offended by the bared breats, and the music seemed to seep into my soul. God was then a mighty lion, and He let forth a mighty roar. The villagers did not seem to hear, but the drums increased their pounding, and the dancers danced with a frenzy. and then we were back on the pathway.
We walked a bit more, and were on the top of a cliff. There sat, painted and covered with feathers, an old Navajo man.
As I watched, he seemed to change into the form of an eagle and take flight, and we were flying with him, soaring high into the air, seeing the vista spread out below us. And God, in the form of an eagle Himself, seemed to guide this other eagle thru the air, over mountains and thru valleys, until he came upon a group of men. As I watched, the old Navajo man was no longer an eagle, but a young boy instead, and he sat at the feet of these men, to listen to the words of his elders.
And then we were back on the pathway.
We traveled a bit, and then we were in a forest clearing. I knew this place. It was known as a place of devil worship and evil. In the center of the clearing roared a great bonfire, and kiwi torches outlined a circle of sorts.
Inside this circle, in a circle themselves, stood 7 men and 6 women, dressed in robes of varying colors, their arms raised to the moon. Was that one woman MaryAnne? I really couldn't be sure. And God walked among them in the circle, touching each one.
He seemed not to be an older man now, but as he made each of three turns around the circle, he was first a young girl, bouncing with energy, then a woman of middle years, with a tender smile for all Her children, and finally,an old woman, body bent, but holding Her head up with pride. And a woman stepped forward, and yes, it was MaryAnne, and lifted her head to the sky.
"Great Goddess, Mother of us all, thank you for joining us tonight. Stay if You will, go if You must. Know in our hearts You will always be welcome.Blessed be!!"
And we were back on the pathway. As we walked along, ahead in the distance I saw the most beautiful man.
Yes, beautiful, though I would never normally think of a man this way. With blonde hair, and a golden robe, he seemed to radiate sunshine. God and this golden man nodded to each other as they passed, sharing a smile together.
"My Lord" I asked, "was that an angel?"
"Well, yes, he is known as that to some. He is also known to some as a god himself. That was Lucifer."
And His words caused me to stumble. I couldn't believe that we had just passed the ultimate evil.
God looked at me, and He knew my mind. And he chuckled a bit. "Think about it logically My son. The Lucifer that you know is a fallen angel, cast out of heaven for challenging Me. If I am the all powerful being, above all others, how could he do this? How could I allow it?"
"But, the Bible..." I stammered.
"The Bible is a wonderful book, as are the Koran and the Torah and many others, but they are just books, written by the hand of man, not written by Me. And, it's a bit confusing as well if truth be known, but that's not up to Me to fix. These books are wonderful, but only as guidance, for each man and woman must think for themselves." And, I believed He was right in this.
"Now, come forth, we must journey a little more before you go back." And He took my hand once again.
As we followed the pathway, we soared thru the stars, listening to the music of the heavens, we became a little flower and a mighty oak, we became a babbling brook, and a mighty ocean. We flitted from flower to flower as a little honey bee, and ran across the plains as a mighty stallion.
And, all too soon the pathway returned us to my home. God held my hand a moment longer, and smiled into my face,
"My son, you prayed tonight for a true vision of Me. For vision, you must only open your eyes and see what there is to see. Good night to you."
And then He was gone, and I was back in my bed. A dream I thought, only a dream, that couldn't have been real. At that time, a bolt of lightning lit up my room thru the window, and thunder crashed thru the sky, and I thought I heard, from seemingly far away, "Remember, the Lord works in mysterious ways My son."
This morning as I entered the office, I went to the machine for a cup of coffee, and standing there, I spied MaryAnne.
As I approached her, I could see her barely cringe, and I could see in her face that she was expecting yet another onslaught from me and my book. She seemed to cast her eyes about for a way to escape, but there was none.
I walked up to her and smiled. " I think I owe you a bit of an apology" I said. "I've been a bit narrow minded of late, and I really had no right to subject you to what I did. It's not up to me to say how you find your path to your spirit, and I was wrong to think that was so."
MaryAnne just stood there, not knowing what to say.
"So, I just wanted to say that I'm sorry, and I hope you will forgive my trespass. God bless you MaryAnne, and...uh...Blessed Be?"
You know, I always thought that it was just a saying, about people's jaws dropping to the floor, but MaryAnne did her best at that moment to prove me wrong.
My Note: I just love this story and hope you do to, I do not know the author to give proper credit but it is truely something to share

IN PERSPECTIVE

WOW...is this laying it on the line or what?

The lady who wrote this letter is Pam Foster of Pamela Foster and
Associates in Atlanta. She's been in business since 1980 doing interior
design and home planning. She recently wrote a letter to a family member
serving in Iraq....... Read it!

"Are we fighting a war on terror or aren't we? Was it or was it not
started by Islamic people who brought it to our shores on September 11,
2001?
Were people from all over the world, mostly Americans, not brutally
murdered that day, in downtown Manhattan , across the Potomac from our
nation's capitol and in a field in Pennsylvania ?
Did nearly three thousand men, women and children die a horrible,
burning or crushing death that day, or didn't they?
And I'm supposed to care that a copy of the Koran was "desecrated" when
an overworked American soldier kicked it or got it wet?
Well, I don't. I don't care at all.
I'll start caring when Osama bin Laden turns himself in and repents
for incinerating all those innocent people on 9/11.
I'll care about the Koran when the fanatics in the Middle East start
caring about the Holy Bible, the mere possession of which is a crime in
Saudi Arabia .
I'll care when terroist coward murderers tell the world they is sorry for
hacking off Nick Berg's head while Berg screamed through his gurgling
slashed throat.
I'll care when the cowardly so-called "insurgents" in Iraq come out and
fight like men instead of disrespecting their own religion by hiding in
mosques.
I'll care when the mindless zealots who blow themselves up in search of
nirvana care about the innocent children within range of their suicide
bombs.
I'll care when the American media stops pretending that their First
Amendment liberties are somehow derived from international law instead
of the United States Constitution' s Bill of Rights.
In the meantime, when I hear a story about a brave Marine roughing up an
Iraqi terrorist to obtain information, know this: I don't care.
When I see a fuzzy photo of a pile of naked Iraqi prisoners who have
been humiliated in what amounts to a college-hazing incident, rest
assured that I don't care.
When I see a wounded terrorist get shot in the head when he is told not
to move because he might be booby-trapped, you can take it to the bank
that I don't care.
When I hear that a prisoner, who was issued a Koran and a prayer mat,
and fed "special" food that is paid for by my tax dollars, is
complaining that his holy book is being "mishandled, " you can absolutely
believe in your heart of hearts that I don't care.
And oh, by the way, I've noticed that sometimes it's spelled "Koran" and
other times "Quran." Well, Jimmy Crack Corn and ---- you guessed it - -- I don't care ! ! ! ! !

If you don't agree, then please don't complain when more
atrocities committed by radical Muslims happen here in our great
country.

"If you would not be forgotten, either write things worth reading, or do things worth the writing.... " Benjamin Franklin

__._,_.___

When Someone in their in their mid 20's, looks down or snubs off an 12 year old child who is being polite by saying hello. Who's the child? Just because you have an issue with other family members. For speaking the truth in a case,or asking you to leave. You don't take out on someone who wasn't there, or had nothing to do with it. This child hasn't done anything to you has she? And your outburst of fowl words, wasn't very Lady like, in someone else's home. It says so much about you!

Body: Lawyers should never ask a Southern grandma a question if they aren't prepared for the answer. In a trial, a Southern small-town prosecuting attorney called his first witness, a grandmotherly, elderly woman to the stand. He approached her and asked, "Mrs. Jones, do you know me?"

She responded, "Why, yes, I do know you, Mr. Williams. I've known you since you were a young boy, and frankly, you've been a big disappointment to me. You lie, you cheat on your wife, and you manipulate people and talk about them behind their backs. You think you're a big shot when you haven't the brains to realize you never will amount to anything more than a two-bit paper pusher. Yes, I know you."

The lawyer was stunned! Not knowing what else to do, he pointed across the room and asked, "Mrs. Jones, do you know the defense attorney?" She again replied, "Why, yes, I do. I've known Mr. Bradley since he was a youngster, too. He's lazy, bigoted, and he has a drinking problem. He can't build a normal relationship with anyone and his law practice is one of the worst in the entire state. Not to mention he cheated on his wife with three different women. One of them was your wife. Yes, I know him."

The defense attorney almost died.

The judge asked both counselors to approach the bench and, in a very quiet voice, said, "If either of you idiots asks her if she knows me, I'll send you to the electric chair."

For 43 years, I had to live an lie. When I spoke the truth, I was beaten to say otherwise. I was called names that no young girl should of been called, at the time, and judge as such.To be told; "I wish I didn't have you girls","If I could of gotten away with it I would of pinched your noise& mouth shut", "If they had the pill in my day, you wouldn't be here","I just had to many of you kids I can't love you all"! Being the oldest of the five girls, there were three boys also.I seen alot, that went on in the house, since the girls had to stay home most of the time. Didn't date until 17. When I had the chance to leave home I ran. Wasn't free until I hit Calif. Why am I writing this ? Because I received a letter from my Mother. Now befor this , my Father had passed away in Sept. All Eight children grieved for him,but my one brother who is a year younger than I was being a bully, like he has always been to the others. And I called him on it, and this was the start of the problem. There are some of you out there that know what has gone on, the emails he sent, with the awful things he said and called my family. My daughter has told him to leave us alone, but now he has gone as far as to say that we were seen at my parents favorite restaurants on the 12th, making a scene, and how the waitress told him I should get an Life! When we haven't even been in Antigo Wisconsin, at the Two Angles.What my Mothers letter says; I'm sorry if Dad and I were Bad parents, and that we effected all our kids life's. But I guess that's the cross I have to carry,I have never done anything in my life that I was ashamed of. I want to answer back Neither have I Mother, and I shouldn't keep being judge by lie's, by you or my brother

I found this on another sight thought I would share this everyone. To Kill an American

In the news recently, there was actually a report that someone in Pakistan had published in a newspaper an offer of a reward to anyone who killed an American, any American.

So an Australian dentist wrote an editorial the following day to let everyone know what an American is . So they would know when they found one. (Good one, Mate!!!!)

"An American is English, or French, or Italian, Irish, German, Spanish, Polish, Russian or Greek. An American may also be Canadian, Mexican, African, Indian, Chinese, Japanese, Korean, Australian, Iranian, Asian, or Arab, or Pakistani or Afghan. "
An American may also be a Comanche, Cherokee, Osage, Blackfoot, Navaho, Apache, Seminole or one of the many other tribes known as Native Americans.

An American is Christian, or he could be Jewish, or Buddhist, or Muslim. In fact, there are more Muslims in America than in Afghanistan. The only difference is that in America they are free to worship as each of them chooses

An American is also free to believe in no religion. For that he will
answer only to God, not to the government, or to armed thugs claiming to speak for the government and for God.

An American lives in the most prosperous land in the history of the world. The root of that prosperity can be found in the Declaration of Independence, which recognizes the God given right of each person to the pursuit of happiness.

An American is generous. Americans have helped out just about every
other nation in the world in their time of need, never asking a thing in return.

When Afghanistan was over-run by the Soviet army 20 years ago, Americans came with arms and supplies to enable the people to win back their country!

As of the morning of September 11, Americans had given more than any other nation to the poor in Afghanistan Americans welcome the best of everything...the best products, the best books, the best music, the best food, the best services. But they also welcome the least.

The national symbol of America, The Statue of Liberty, welcomes your tired and your poor, the wretched refuse of your teeming shores, the homeless, tempest tossed. These in fact are the people who built America. Some of them were working in the Twin Towers the morning of September 11, 2001 earning a better life for their families. It's been told that the World Trade Center victims were from at least 30 different countries, cultures, and first languages, including those that aided and abetted the terrorists
So you can try to kill an American if you must. Hitler did. So did General Tojo, and Stalin, and Mao Tse-Tung, and other blood-thirsty tyrants in the world. But, in doing so you would just be killing yourself. Because Americans are not a particular people from a particular place. They are the embodiment of the human spirit of freedom. Everyone who holds to that spirit, everywhere, is an American.
_________________

Ever had an lie told about you, because someone didn't want truth to be known. What that one lie can do to an person through out the years. People who look at you judge without question, because of that lie, and the gossip that fallows. How far are you willing to go to bring out the truth? Are you willing to destroy family members, or would you take it to your grave? It is said if you burn your bridges, you can never go home. After being judge such a person, would you want to?

What do you think of throw away children? We see it on television, read it in the paper, and you hear it from your own friends. I was a throw away child, but my Mother didn't put me on the streets. She just reminded me how I wasn't wanted, through out my life, with mental and physical abuse. So when I got married, I became a Foster Parent, and took in children that no one wanted, some were only with us for 2 yrs until they turned 18. Then while my son's grew up they brought home some of their friends.They had got kicked out, the parents or parent didn't want them around, because the boy got in the way of their life. My own family(One Brother,& Parents) didn't like it, and still don't to this very day. Maybe it was because these children come from all walks of life. But my own three children, call them family. When my oldest got killed, it was his Foster family who wanted to take him to his final resting place. Why am I writing this? Because I love my children, All of them. And we may get angry at each other, drive each other crazy at times, but we do love each other. It just hurts my feelings when people who don't have children,(for what ever reason)think I'm an "Awful Mother", because one of my children is having a bad day.And the first thing out of their mouth is "Are you still fighting with your Mom"? Don't be so quick to judge me , be for they can tell you why they are having a bad day.

My Daughter came home from work Monday night with a plant(red carnation's) along with a card that she wrote.In the card it read; All through my life, you provided love & protection, and I appreciated it. Then when I got a little older, I thought "Oh My God" Mom just drives me crazy! But then eventually I understood and learn to appreciate you again. You have become my Best friend ,and I can only hope to have the same relationship with my children. Thank you for being there. understanding, being my Best friend, but most of all, MY MOM. LOVE Amanda. And yes Katie I hope you do share what Amanda and I share, as Mother & Daughter.