An Angel Visitation - How It All Began

An Angel Visitation: How It All Began

It was 1994. I lived with my first husband and seven children in a tiny house on Allatoona Circle in Morrow, Georgia. I worked several jobs. I worked as a manager of a nutrition store that carried herbs and weight loss products or body building products. I drove a school bus for the county. I collected money and ran a paper route in Henry County. I was tired. I was in a bad place and I had turned my back on God.

One night, I had an epic dream. It was one of those dreams that seemed to last all night and into the morning. I don’t really remember the dream now. The only things I can remember about it was when I woke up I thought, Wow, that was an amazing dream. It would make a really good movie. I think it was about war, or maybe kind of apocalyptic. I was lying there in bed alone with my eyes closed thinking about the dream I’d just had, going over it in my head, marveling that my mind could come up with something like that. I knew I had to get up and get started on my day and I opened my eyes, intending to do just that.

Before I go further, let me reiterate that I WAS awake. I was NOT still dreaming. I say that because many people, mockers and scoffers, want to immediately tell me that it really didn’t happen. I guess they think I don’t know when I’m asleep or awake. I suppose they believe me to be delusional. I could make it easy on myself and deny what happened. However, I simply CANNOT deny. I have learned that the hard way. Deny God’s signs and miracles at your own risk. I once turned my back on God. I will never deny Him or turn away from Him again! Back to the story.

When I opened my eyes, I saw a man standing at the end of the bed. He had a bright light all around him. He wasn’t dressed as you might think an angel should be dressed. I’ve struggled with that a little bit, because it’s harder to tell people about it. Then, I’ve learned that there have been many accountings of people interacting with God’s messengers, who weren’t all dressed in white robes. Many accountings have been of an old homeless man or someone dressed in regular clothes who shows up, helps someone and disappears mysteriously.

My “angel” appeared to be Native American, or American Indian, which many preferred to be called. I myself am part Cherokee and have always had an affinity for the American Indians, so the angel’s appearance didn’t surprise me or bother me. He had long dark hair that was loose. His chest was bare, strong, and tan. No chest hair. He had a long woven cloth wrapped around his waist that extended down to cover his legs. He was standing at the foot of my bed, so I didn’t really notice his feet. His face, to me, could only be described as beautiful, and his smile, well, he had the kindest smile I’ve ever seen.

Most people would be afraid to open their eyes in the morning and see a man standing at the foot of their bed, but there was no fear. None whatsoever. I felt no fear, only love. I don’t know how to explain or describe the amazing feeling of love emanating from this man. Oh, how I wish I could go back to that moment and feel that again. It was so beautiful. He smiled at me. He spoke to me, and sadly, I don’t remember the first things we talked about. I’ve prayed about that, asking the Lord to reveal to me the first part of that conversation, and the answer I’ve received is that I will remember when it is time for me to remember. So, yeah, there’s that!

I remember the next part though. The beautiful man told me to write. Now, at the time, I’d never written anything in my life, except letters or maybe book reports at school. When I answered him I said, “Write? Write what?” I was pretty irreverent and pretty rude.

He smiled that kind smile again, as if to say that he forgave my rudeness. I guess he understood that I was in a bad place and I am human. He nodded and smiled and said, “Write love. Write your story. Begin immediately.”

I then watched as the bright light that was all around him began to close in, sort of like he was— imploding. The light got smaller and smaller until it and the angel simply disappeared. I did not own a computer or laptop or anything of the kind, but I did have a stack of fresh spiral notebooks, because Walmart had a back-to-school sale the previous August and I’d stocked up. Those notebooks were sitting beside my bed, and the moment the angel disappeared I reached over and grabbed one and a pen and immediately began writing, which I realized was exactly what he’d said to do. I have to admit, though, that I began immediately not because I remembered he’d said to, but because I felt ultra compelled to do so. Later, I would learn to recognize the promptings of God, and I would know that when I felt ultra-compelled about anything, it was God trying to tell me something.

It’s amazing to me to know that God sent an angel to me. Keep in mind that at this time in my life, I was struggling and I had not been praying, I was not trying to commune with God or angels or anyone or anything. Having a heavenly visitation was never on my mind. Actually, it was probably the furthest thing from my mind. I was in a very bad place. I had recently tried to end my life. So, even though this amazing thing happened, it took me a long time to develop a real relationship with Jesus. A looong time. I guess I was like the Israelites. They’d seen God work through Moses and do many mighty and powerful things. Then, the moment Moses goes away for a minute, they make a golden calf. They murmured and grumbled over everything, despite the fact that God miraculously provided them with manna, and that as in Exodus 13:21-22, “By day the Lord went ahead of them in a pillar of cloud to guide them on their way and by night in a pillar of fire to give them light, so that they could travel by day or night. Neither the pillar of cloud by day nor the pillar of fire by night left its place in front of the people.”

God didn’t give up on me. He helped me to see the light. He helped me to see the truth. He wanted me to write these books, and He wanted me to write them a certain way. They were/are my calling. They are what I was placed here on earth to do. Well, and of course to create my family. I asked Jesus about the writing of the books, asked Him ‘why’ many times, and He answered me on three different occasions. Which I wrote about here, in Exlusive-A Word/Rapture.

I’ve learned to put God first. He is first in my life, above all else and above anyone else. I’ve learned that is the way to have the most joyful life. Don’t find what YOU want to do in life. Find what God wants you to do, and it will work out perfectly. I never thought to write. But once I began writing, especially, when I was writing as God directed me, I discovered immense satisfaction and fulfillment and joy. I pray that I will always be able to know God’s will for me, and will be strong enough to accomplish it. I love the Lord and will serve Him. Whatever He puts in my path, I will gladly accept. I will pick up my little cross and carry it, and do it with a happy countenance, because I am happy to serve Him. As everything, I do this in Jesus’ mighty name. Amen.
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