Good Morning, Holy Spirit

(Elliott) #1

34 GOOD MORNING, HOLY SPIRIT


The Lord didn't say anything to me. He just looked at
me. And then He disappeared.
Immediately I was wide awake. At the time I could
scarcely understand what was happening, but it wasn't a
dream. Those kinds of feelings don't happen in a dream.
God allowed me to experience a vision that would create an
indelible impression on my young life.
As I awakened, the wondrous sensation was still there. I
opened my eyes and looked all around, but this intense,
powerful feeling was still in me. I felt totally paralyzed. I
couldn't move a muscle. Not an eyelash. I was completely
frozen there. Yet I was in control. This unusual feeling
overtook me—but didn't dominate me.
In fact, I felt I could say, "No, I don't want this," and the
experience would have lifted. But I didn't say anything.
While I lay there, awake, the feeling stayed with me, then
slowly went away.
In the morning I told my mother about the experience,
and she still remembers her words. She said, "You must be
a saint, then."
Things like that didn't happen to people in Jaffa,
whether they were Catholic or Greek Orthodox. Of course,
I was certainly no "saint," but my mother believed that if
Jesus came to me, He must be singling me out for a higher
calling.
While God was dealing with my life, other factors were
at work that would forever change the future of our family.


THE ENDS OF THE EARTH


From Gaza to the Golan Heights
Living in Israel during the sixties, I could feel the

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