The brother, the angelic voice wanted me to contact, was my older brother (I will not be mentioning his name.) Whose favorite habit was drinking a bottle of wine, sometimes two or more on a daily basis. His addiction to wine (which he nicknamed, "blood"), always baffled me. He had a brilliant mind, and a zest for life, which also kept him shrouded in mystery. His three great passions, were a love for God, the Holy Bible, and his fellow man. His preferred circle of friends were the addicted, the mentally- challenged, and the poor of his neighborhood. A few people were jealous of him and despised his kind ways. Others found his compassion for their plight genuine, and saw that some of the burdens he was carrying from his life, mirrored their own. They shared their love of wine, laughter and many tears together. 1 John 4:7 reads, "Beloved, let us love one another: for love is of God; and everyone that loveth is born of God."
My problem with finding my brother when he was intoxicated, meant getting in touch with people who had far worse habits than alcoholism. I called my sister to see if she knew where he might be. To my surprise and hers, she said he was in the house. And, instead of being drunk as usual, he had been cold- sober all day long; he was not asleep but wide-awake. It was now after midnight Monday morning.
From the first moment I spoke to him, I knew my sister was right his mind was clear and sharp, his voice strong. I wasn't talking to someone, who had abused alcohol for well over twenty-five -years. I was talking to the brother my mother had described in my youth, the one with all the potential of obtaining his dreams and so much more. I started the conversation by explaining what had happened earlier in the day to my daughter. He was amazingly calm and listened quietly. When I got to the part where I was describing Our Lord Jesus Christ, appearing between the two white clouds, my brother became very quiet and asked to be excused, fifteen minutes later he returned. Upon his return he asked me very calmly to continue telling him what his niece had seen. When I started to describe the other things that appeared in the holy picture of Jesus (including what was over his left shoulder, which later was erased from my memory), that's when my brother asked to be excused a second time, and left me waiting for his return this time for over twenty minutes. I was beginning to wonder if he was sneaking off to drink, so upon his return I asked him where was he going when he would leave the telephone? He told me, "Each time he left he went to pray. To bury his head in the Bible and pray." I then asked him if I should continue? He said, 'Yes'. I started to tell him about the other things my daughter had seen, when he stopped me to ask a question. "Were there any children running with the adults across the clouds below Jesus?" I said, no. He didn't say anything. So, I told him how afraid I was for my daughter and if seeing Jesus meant something was going to happen to her? He then said, "Since there were no children running with the adults then Jesus was not here for my daughter. (I breathe a deep sigh of relief.) He continued and said, "I believe the appearance of Jesus, means someone in our family is going to die." And then he said, "I think you should prepare yourself for that possibility." I simply said, "I understand." And the conversation continued as he spoke pausingly, "I think ... it's a close relative, like ... an aunt or an uncle. No ... no, it's someone closer much closer then that ... its ... a sister ... or a brother!" With that heart-wrenching announcement he became very quiet, and suddenly he was no longer on the telephone. He had slipped away, perhaps to go and pray again. At least, that's what I told myself. I wasn't sure what was going on as I waited for his return. So much was racing through my mind about the information he had given me, and how I never asked how he had arrived at his conclusions. A little over twenty minutes later, when he came back to the telephone, I could tell by his voice something had happened. My brother has often told me throughout my life, and with sincerity, that he has always felt he was at least one hundred years old. I used to tease him when he would say this, but his voice now reflected that age, he sound tired- very tired. So, I listened intently to every word he had to say. What follows is a close account of that blessed conversation. He begin by saying pausingly, "It's me! ...It's me! ... It's my time! ... It's my time! ... But I'm not ready! ...I'm not finished with my work! ... I'm not finished with my work!"
I thought my brother was overreacting to Our Lord's appearance (I was wrong. I was the messenger. The message was for my brother, and his reaction to it meant he understood it perfectly. Praise God!) "What are you talking about?" I said, "You're not going anywhere!" He became very quiet. Then a sudden calm came over him and his voice was now soft and soothing, no longer tired. He said, "Listen to me. (he said my name) Listen to me. I want you to pray for someone you don't know. And, don't tell me who that person is." (I borrowed this last caring thought for his fellow man from my brother. I felt that since it was so important to him for me, "to pray for someone I didn't know," it should be equally important to share the same thought with my readers. My brother was right. Everyone needs our prayers, whether we know them or not. So, I put this precious thought at the end of most of my posts, in memory of the love my brother had for all people.)
I didn't question his request. I simply said,"okay." I remembered reading a very tragic story in the newspaper a few weeks before, that I couldn't
get off my mind. So, I immediately said a prayer for the person mentioned in the article. When I finished my prayer, I placed the telephone up to my right ear and started talking to my brother, suddenly a powerful burst of energy passed from him through the reciever into me. It didn't hurt, but I did feel it as it enter into my body. I immediatly asked my brother, "What was that?" He simply said in a very calm voice, "It's alright. It's alright. Don't worry about it." A sudden calmness came over me and the incident was forgotten (for two months). My brother and I continued to talk for another fifteen minutes or so about personal matters close to his heart. I felt no need to question him, I knew spiritually I was there to listen only. When his conversation came to an end, I managed to thank him for explaining Our Lord Jesus Christ's, appearance and what such a glorious event meant. He paused and for a moment got very quiet and said once again in a calm soft voice, "I want to tell you I love you, my sister. Goodnight."
My conversation with my brother started late Sunday night and lasted until after 1:30 am Monday morning. When I awoke from sleeping I had no memory of ever speaking to him. God had erase all memory of that Sunday and early Monday morning from our minds, until He was ready to give us His permission to remember and speak of that glorious day. Praise God! And that permission came later (in the fourth and final part) of this blessed event.
Please, always pray for someone you don't know. And, don't tell anyone who that person is. May God Bless You.
Copyright 2007, 2008
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