Who Am I?
Who Am I?
Who am I? I am ME! I’m a human being, a small pebble on an endless shore. At a young age, I remember staring in the bathroom mirror at my reflection, wondering who I was or would become. My thoughts would drift into imagining how huge is the universe. Of course, at that time, I knew nothing about the Book of Urantia (Earth) much less, very little about God. The Book of Urantia reveals billions of worlds contained in various super universes that continues to expand in outer space; many inhabited and some destined to be. In the heart of our grand universe is the stationary, massive Paradise Isle consisting of one billion spheres of unimaginable beauty and grandeur. Near us are seven evolving super universes which are organized and inhabited.
As a child, could you possibly imagine the magnitude of the number of various worlds that are in outer space? I sure couldn’t and if someone told me what I just told you, I would think they were delusional! Hey, I was trying to understand who God was back then. Sure, I attended church. I became affiliated with a number of various Christian religions, but I just didn’t feel it. I always felt there was something missing. It was like trying to put a puzzle together without all the pieces. Before the age of thirteen, I read the entire Bible looking for answers. My mother had forewarned me that the Bible contradicts itself and, more than likely, the answers I seek wouldn’t be answered.
Mother was a psychic and had been easily mocked by certain so-called Christians. She believed in God and believed we would all be judged by him after death. Mother knew there was life after death from a dream she had about her mother, Jane. My grandmother, Jane, had died of pneumonia when Mother was only twelve. Not too long after, Jane came to visit her. In this dream, my grandmother sat on the edge of Mother’s bed and told her that death was only another form of existence. So, yes, INDEED, Mother believed in life after death and knew there was a God.
After my mother’s passing, she came to me in a dream. Her and my father, who had passed away a year before her, were inside a large home with wooden floors. I could smell the coffee Dad was making in the kitchen, while Mother sat in a rocking chair. She was rocking back and forth and when Mother saw me, she grabbed my arm and hissed, “Anything is possible, don’t you know that?” In a cold sweat, I woke up and remembered what she had just said. About a week later, I saw a sterling silver ring with the words, “anything is possible,” engraved on the inside and knew immediately I had to purchased and wear that ring as a constant reminder to never give up without giving it one good try.
As for my father, he, too, believed in God. There was a time when my younger brother, Warren, questioned Dad about God. Dad turned as white as a sheet and spoke with conviction there was a God and for us to never question his existence. From the expression on Dad’s face, I knew he had an unusual encounter and why he wouldn’t share it with us was something I questioned!
One day I learned the truth about Dad’s experience after he passed away. Only his sister knew the truth and she only told her daughter, my cousin, Joan. Apparently, Dad’s platoon had been wiped out from an air assault by our American bombers, by coming too soon, and only him and one other soldier survived. Dad and the other soldier had been rescued by divine intervention; otherwise, they would have perished along with the rest of his platoon.