worshippers.
Waiting in a darkened hallway, two
men were carrying a large silver pot. Asking
them what they were doing, they said, "This
pot is filled with the life-giving water which
comes down from heaven and never ends."
Begging them to pour this water over my
own wretched soul, I fell to the ground as
the Holy Spirit filled me with an intrinsic
roar.
Praying on my knees in the astral
state, a huge torrent of energy swept me off
of my feet and into the cosmos. St. Michael
came this time as a huge shadowy figure,
almost like a thundercloud, but in the
definite form of a man. Appearing as he
does in popular statues, he wore a shortened
metallic skirting adorned with body armor,
as his huge wings protruded explosively
from his back. Sometimes he appears as a
shadowy bolt of energy, and sometimes he
comes in pure living color. Magnificent size
not diminished; there was something
unusual about this visit. Just as huge, a
female stood beside St. Michael. Flowing
straight brown hair caressed her shoulders,
and she wore a glimmering white robe down