32. Ten - en plus One
The vote by the politicians in Canberra to hand responsibility of the abortion drug RU 486 to the Drugs Administration Council (TAG) was even higher in the Lower House than in the Senate. Many conservative voters felt betrayed by those, who claimed to be against the unnatural practice of terminating pregnancy, but still voted in favour of this Bill.
The debate was not about abortion per se, but about who should have the final say on the drug. Many fell for this deception. A body, whose job it is to analyze a drug for safe use, will not bring any moral factor into play. A law addressing this dilemma had specifically passed in 1996, initiated by Tasmania Senator Brian Harradine. It gave the Minister of Health the option to allow the drug or to ban it.
Those who didn’t fall for the deception, saw the bigger picture and reasoned: a drug should never be introduced to kill human life, born or unborn. That’s why Mr. Harradine, a committed Catholic like our present Minister for Health, was successful in 1996 to take the final decision away from medical experts. The debate in February 06 in Canberra was simply to overturn this safety net. Generally, in Australia abortion laws are a State matter.
For a number of days (and nights) I had been active sending each Senator and Member of the House of Representatives emotion-charged emails to appeal to their conscience. On this occasion it seemed to not have brought the desired result. The final say, however, is with Almighty God, let’s not forget HIM.
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New Year's Day 2006.Annual Gala Day at Port Vincent, York Peninsula. To reach the waterfront action a detour was posted via Way and Cameron Streets.
While waiting for my wife to return from the lady's at the Ventnor Hotel, I took this photo. The Ventnor Hotel is owned by Mr. Da Ninci (or did he just name it?) I couldn't help spotting the 5 pallets, 2 red/3 blue behind the IGA Store.
When I grow up I want to be a cruise ship!
Is the size of the Coast Guard boat indicative of the amount of funding they receive? (More tea and scones fundraisers, perhaps?)
Boat No. CG001 A-5
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What transpired during the abortion debate and shortly afterwards again pointed in the direction of intelligent design – God through HIS incredible, outside the box, unorthodox methods, seemed to be clearly saying - I am here, I am listening, I care and I am against abortion!
After you have read, how the puzzle pieces, some thirty years old, all fell into place, you will again have to make up your mind, if it is all the product of a disturbed mind - or indeed, God is at work. There is no middle ground.
A small number of politicians responded to my email campaign; some even with a personal email or letter. (Thank you very much). Most, however, did not and one can’t blame them, considering the volume of correspondence some said, they had received. Those who wrote back did mostly with an auto-reply. Auto-replies are seldom read in detail, since they mostly just acknowledge the receipt of your message.
One such reply came from the Independent Member for Kennedy in North Queensland. I opened it, took a glance and ... nearly deleted it. I saw enough to make out his address, the corner of Edith & Owen Streets, Innisfail.
Alert readers may think the name Edith tickled my fancy – Die on the (old) cross. This came only much later. Not even the fact that Edith was the girl I had been in love with, just prior to immigrating to Australia. No, it was something from 30 years ago, which I noticed immediately.
The two names Edith and Owen brought to mind an incident when we lived in Tasmania. I never forgot it. The parents of our Pastor’s wife were visiting us. They had showed us slide-pictures of their holiday. One of the slides pictured them, standing on a street corner, underneath the street signs Edith Street/Owen Street. They had taken the photo as a lark, because their names were Edith and Owen. Thirty years on, I wondered - was this the same corner?
In prayer a few days later the name Innisfail kept reverberating in my mind. During prayer my mind often wanders; this is when God shows me things, when I make some incredible discoveries. I played with the letters and changed the a to e. Innisfail became ‘Sin in Life’.
“Why are you showing me this God? If there is no purpose, Lord, please don’t torture my mind with silly thoughts like this. It’s not fun to get laughed at every time I tell my family crazy things and claim that you showed them to me.” This was the essence of my prayer that morning.
I switched on the light and looked up the postcode for Innisfail, Queensland. The four numbers hit me hard. This can't be co-incident - 4860. The ball had started rolling. A chain reaction had started, I knew. Next, I changed the name of the politician concerned in the same manner I had changed Innisfail; the a became an e. It created the name Ketter. Minus the r it spelled Kette, the German word for chain.
After such discoveries I was never sure who, if anybody, was behind it. I was bursting to tell somebody, to scream at them: “Look what I discovered, open your eyes, can’t you see?” But there was nobody; especially at 6 in the morning or at any other time. The loneliness, the isolation, the blanket rejection of my thinking by my family was something I still was struggling with.
What kept me going was the knowledge of Somebody, who did not reject my thoughts. HE believed in me.
(The latest advise to take tablets to correct my thinking came from a family member, only hours before publishing this).
Next I googled for the town of Innisfail. I came across the local Branch of the Australian Coastguard, which led to a Pentecostal church. I made some startling discoveries in a few short minutes online. To offload my findings I emailed the church concerned. (Email address: icchurch...).
Just to type my findings and to imagine somebody at the other end shares my unorthodox thinking linking, made me feel better.
Email to Church in Innisfail, Queensland, dated 25/01/06:
Subject: Strange connections
This morning I thought about the name Innisfail. My mind plays little games sometimes. I swap letters around, like changing an a to an e, or drop off an r etc. (If I did this to Katter, it would turn to Kette, which is German for chain).
The name of your Federal. MP actually got me onto Innisfail. The parents of the our ex-Pastor's wife are called Edith and Owen. I remember them telling us and showing us a photo of a street corner, Edith/Owen Sts. It may have been the corner where Bob Katter's office is located.
If I change Innisfail to Innisfeil and play with it - I could read Sin in Life, which chains up those who don't believe.
Good to know there are so many churches, lighthouses to our Nation that radiate the Life of Jesus to overcome a life of sin to break the chain.
Kind regards from Adelaide
PS Isn't it also strange, that the postcode of your City is 4860, the very number (RU 486) has brought us together. I am glad now that I didn't just delete Bob Katter's Auto Reply. God knows it all. (I just noticed your Post Office Box Number; you ought to change that to 288).
Their post box number was 963.
Looking over the church listings online again, I may have sent above email to the wrong Christian Church. Their post office box number is 1688. The church who was meant to receive it had post office box 963 listed. They meet at the hall in a locality called Goondi – (Go on die), still in the Postcode area 4860.
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Change only two matches to make the dog face in the other direction. (Answer below).
I had just crossed Adelaide's busy intersection, called Gepps Cross, on my bicycle. Something made me turn back and pick up this matchbox trick off the footpath. Trick 17, plus a very faint imprint of the number 316 made me think later - I was meant to pick it up. Today I feel I was meant to tell you about it on 1/3/06 plus one.
Answer: Simply turn back the 2 matches forming the head - this makes the dog's head face in the other direction. (I had to look it up online. I'm not smart solving puzzles like that).
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A few years ago, after my story had taken on a bizarre, extra-ordinary nature, I had called it a theophany, God showing himself. God was indeed showing himself in strange ways in February 06. Was HE telling us through this complex chain of events that HE disapproves of abortion? Is God's finger pointing at the sixth commandment, do not kill?
How dramatically has the West violated this commandment? How lightly have we taken God's laws? How ignorant have we become, hardly considering HIS laws, when formulating those we want to live under? How low have we fallen to allow the killing of the unborn, just for convenience reasons.
The result has been a dramatic change in the family structure of many countries. According to an article in Reader’s Digest (Jan 06) large tracts of Europe are reverting back to their natural state, because the population has not sufficiently reproduced or has moved away into the cities.
The more you think about this sad state of affairs, the more you realize that the abortion debate is not merely a religious issue. It’s plain common sense that you don’t kill fresh human life, when at the same time the balance between young and old is shifting rapidly towards old.
Another fact shocked me during the recent RU 486 debate. It was claimed that woman are counseled and given all options, before deciding to have their baby sucked out of them. Did those making this claim mean - all options as to what method of termination was available?
It appears to be so. Otherwise how come only 70 (seventy) out of the 84 000 terminations in 2004 have opted to not kill the fetus? Only 70, less than 1 in a thousand, chose to carry the baby full-term, and make a childless couple happy.
Stop Press: Two hours before writing this our Prime Minister and Health Minister were shown on the midday news (3/2/06). They announced funding for a new program to increase counseling services to pregnant woman. Whilst acknowledging that the laws will not be changed, the PM expressed that the community is not in favour of the high number of abortions in Australia.
Why have church leaders not spoken out more strongly on this issue? Church leaders do vote in elections, why should they not express their views on such life and death matters? I don't think I have ever heard the A-word mentioned in a sermon. Perhaps 30 years ago, when the preacher talked about the sixth commandment?
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One Tuesday in September 05 I was walking along Henley Beach Road, Thebarton, when I saw a sign Life Surfing Association. I had written a letter to the Brighton Surf Life Saving Club, the place, where Peter Liddy allegedly perpetrated his crimes against young boys. I had hoped to receive a list of the names of all junior members (called Nippers) for the period Peter Liddy was a leader in that Club. The names of Mr. Liddy’s accusers would have to appear in that list of members. It they didn't, it would give ground for an investigation. The best outcome would be a re-trial of the ex-Magistrate.
I never received a reply to my request. So many trails I had followed to find answers in the case, ended in a dead end, if this is the right expression to be using.
On impulse that Tuesday I walked into the reception area of the Life Surfing Association and simply asked for the current contact for the Brighton Life Surfing Club. Without asking any questions a young lady gave me a name and phone number on a piece of paper.
Out of curiosity I checked the name in the phonebook later. I should have known. My code kicked in again, as if it was planned by the person, who gave the information to me. Both the name and the street address carried a potent message. I became convinced that there was more than a name and phone number on that piece of paper (I overprinted some handwriting with my interpretation of what I read):
Is there a message - Man on the cross - I J (the initials) - Holly (the street address in the phonebook)?
The colour also spoke to me: Not lavender, but pink. To receive a pink slip means you are dismissed from the job.
I phoned the number on the pink slip. There was no answer. My message to return my call was fruitless also. Next I made an appointment with a local Member of Parliament. From my observations in the Liberal Party, he was a conservative thinker. Would he show some interest and join the fight for justice?
The MP said he could not do anything without clear evidence. I had evidence, but not the kind he may have wanted to see. There was none.
In a case 20 years old, especially that of sexual abuse, there is no evidence; fullstop. The fact that I discovered an accuser had made blatant errors, when telling his story in court, seemed to have fallen on deaf ears. I was learning that justice was made up of two words - just ice. When the heat is on – it just melts away, just like ice does. Sadly, this trail also went nowhere. But the end was not yet.
On October 25th 05 I was riding my bicycle home from Adelaide. Just north of the City I decided to cycle past the residence of Eugene McGee, the person, who was the subject of the Kapunda Road Royal Commission in June that year. I had given input to the Commissioner, and also reported all my findings in this book (Chapters 15 ff).
I had never spoken to the lawyer, who had found himself in court after killing a cyclist. Many may ask, why I have never made an effort to confront Mr. McGee with my thinking? My answer is simple, if he were under pressure from powerful forces, to play along with a farce, who was I that he would reveal the full story to?
Ringing his doorbell was out of the question. What would I say? Cycling past, however, on that Tuesday I couldn’t believe my luck. Through a gap in the fence I noticed a tall, gray-haired man polishing his car. The black, shiny limousine excited me as much as the man, making the chrome headlights sparkle. It was a Mercedes 220, maybe a 1963 Model, just the type we dreamed about as teenagers.
Still on my bicycle and looking through the gap I yelled out: “Beautiful machine, you’re not selling it, are you?” The first part was genuine, the second more wishful thinking. Mr. McGee said, it had been in the family for 30 years. I asked, if I could have his phone number, in case he changed his mind. More wishful thinking on my part.
Just as superior as the car was the registration plate – crosses won, expressed in XT and the No. 1. Over the years many registration plates were giving me messages. This one however, was from an interesting player in this saga, if indeed it was so.
If you find this assumption totally absurd, read some of my findings in this case (Chapter 15 onwards).
Considering the extreme nature of what I had questioned in the hit-run killing enquiry, I was surprised that I did not receive any letters, phone calls or emails, either of support or opposition. It is an indication of the apathy, a lack of willpower among ordinary citizens, to get involved in anything outside their narrow sphere of operation?
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As I cycled away from the McGee residence I noticed a black cigarette lighter in the middle of the roadway. Was it my curiosity or premonition or a bit of each? I did a U-Turn on my bike and picked it up. As soon as I read the address of the Hotel advertised on it I knew, this item had been planted – 5 First Street.
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Another very interesting observation came, while walking slowly through the Adelaide airport in late December 05. We were saying good by to my daughter Michelle. She was returning to Sydney after her time with us over Christmas. A very prominent person involved in the McGee Royal Commission was standing in the airport departure lounge, talking to a male person. She was holding a shopping bag.
My daughter boarded her plane and my wife and I walked back the same way. About 20 or 25 minutes had passed. This person was still standing at the same spot, talking to the same man. Walking by I paid closer attention. In large letters the shopping bag advertised NEW LINK, whatever New Link was meant to advertise.
My linking mind added a new link! During the Royal Commission I had regarded this person as pulling in the other direction – against truth and justice. Was the shopping bag to mean something? Was this person willing to defect, after reading my account in the McGee saga? Had she seen the light?
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Our children - in late 2004.
Our only girl and her partner Darin live and work in Dee Why, a Northern Beaches suburb of Sydney.
*** is in his second last year at school. He knows more about mathematics than his dad. His goal is to become a meteorologist. (His dad is always on about maximum. temperatures).
* lives with us at present, hoping to soon secure a permanent position as Highschool teacher. (He was talking about returning to Sydney, if he can't find a permanent teaching position. Where are the jobs Mr. Rann?)
** is studying at Tabor Bible College, south of Adelaide. He knows more theology-theory than his dad (and regularly tells him so).
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A remarkable incident took place under the clock tower (please note) at Salisbury, our regional centre about 5 kilometers north of where we live. On 19/11 (please note) the annual pageant (Christmas Parade) was taking place. I knew something would be happening on that date. It did in an amazing way, resulting in an email to Hollywood.
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Just as I was typing 1911 – out of the blue – I noticed the P/C’s clock said 9.11. Such little incidences happen to me all the time. Example: On Mon 27/2/06 I was in prayer, when the line of a song “rest beyond the river” floated inside my musical brain. The hymn is called “In the cross”.
Curious about this hymn I interrupted my prayer to read the text. The Redemption Hymnal was right there on my desk. As I picked it up it fell open by itself – to exactly this hymn – In the cross. But there was more. It was No. 396 and the co-writer's name was WH Doane.
Can you see how I corrected the date? For a moment in my excitement I wrote 3 (March), but later corrected it. If this incident had taken place one month later in March, I would have seen a connection to No. 396.
Note the verse that goes with the hymn - Gal. 6, 14 - God forbid that I should glory, save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ.
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Here is the story what transpired, resulting in an email to Hollywood that day, 19/11/05. I was standing outside the Salisbury Library, in the shade of the big clock tower. People old and young, many families with young children, stood shoulder to shoulder watching the colourful, annual Christmas pageant (Parade) go by. All kinds of clubs, organizations and businesses, from the Tae Kwon Do Club to the local troupe of the Boys Scouts to the Rural Fire Brigade, were putting themselves on show.
It may sound arrogant, but I have never, in one place, seen this many registration plates, letters, numbers, names etc, which all could be straight from my code book. Just to mention one, the final vehicle was a fire engine. It had registration number 911 and serial number P 24.
But another vehicle took my attention. It was the only one parked in John Street, right by the tower where I was standing. John Street was blocked off to all traffic. After a while I started thinking – there is something funny about this car. Should I be taking a look?
I did. It was blue in colour, a ForD. The registration number was …815. It had been only a short time since I had uploaded the story of 8 Tomatoes, not 5, to make 1000 grams. (Full story in Summary to Oct 05). It this linking was crazy, then it was also crazy to link the book I saw on the front passenger seat. I could read the title: “Remember when”.
I was starting to think – WOW, and rightly so. There was one last clue on that vehicle - the date on the registration label. It was registered until 31/1/06. No, this was not co-incidence. 316 as in John 3,16 won. I am amazed how God’s timing is making me write this (under tears) on March 1, 06. I only had decided a moment ago to include this story and forgotten all about this car. Hey, just thought of another beauty - John Street!
More magic was to come, the catch that made me sent an email to Hollywood. In the middle of the hour-long parade, I suddenly recognized a man in an open-top car. He was fairly well known in the community. I knew him from the school my children attended for many years. His vehicle had already passed by a few meters, when I called out the man’s name on impulse:
“Hi Roy”. Just as well there was no music at the time, otherwise Roy may not have heard me. But he must have, because as he turned, he threw two lollies (wrapped candy) in my direction. The distance was about 5 meters. I instinctively reached out with my left hand and caught one in mid air. The other fell to the ground. I gave this one to the girl in front of me.
I ate the lolly and casually put the wrapper into my pocket. Sometime later, I can't recall when exactly, for some reason I discovered the crunched up piece of paper and read was was written on it. It was a fantale wrapper, which feature details of stars in show business. The one I had caught featured Josh Hartnett and Meg Ryan. Aha! Why an N, gem?
Had I discarded the wrapper I would have missed out on this lovely name. But it so happened it also was this star's 44th birthday that day. If there was some intelligent design at work, the number 1119 certainly fitted well that day, reminding me of my adventures in Tinsel town almost 6 months earlier to the day.
It didn’t take long to locate a website for the Meg Ryan fan-club and to send an email, congratulating her on her birthday. What would the recipient at the other end think, had I told the whole story, how I came to email?
(There really is a problem with mega stars. We all know them, but they don’t know us. This imbalance ought to be addressed).
Here is the Fantale wrapper I caught in mid-air:
Fantales are a wrapped candy, where the wrapper tells a tale of a famous person.
STARS OF TODAY - No. 15 Josh Hartnett, No. 16 Meg Ryan.
I am glad I kept this wrapper and did not just throw it away. I loved Meg Ryan’s name. Plus, it so happened, she was born on 19/11/61. That day was her 44th birthday.
With a little imagination I could squeeze 316 out of her date of birth, with only a 9 left over. But one should not take things too far, especially with numbers.
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Readers may think I am totally off the planet, but I suspected a sequel to above story in early January 06. The keyword is tower (I was standing right under the tower when above happened) and the number 7. This number usually meant that there was some fun to be had.
I was giving John, the Sudanese immigrant, who bought our Mitsubishi, a driving lesson. Out of the corner of my eye I spotted a large for sale sign outside a house. The agent’s name, in my code, read something like - Be on the cross, grave. The house number was No. 7.
The date happened to be Jan. 4th 06. (Did you notice this date 1/4/06 again is 316 plus 1 and that these digits have already appeared in a passage earlier in this chapter?)
That same evening I drove into Salisbury to pick up my son Jon from his part time employment in a Salisbury shop. I happened to spot a vehicle, registration plate TOWLER. It all made sense to me. The word Tower needs only an L to make it into TOWLER. Alternatively, the Number 7 upside down, will do the same.
I emailed the agents to simply enquire about the property. The contact name was Rebecca; her surname something like DN & T (is) all.
Here is the email I wrote, telling the agents of my strange connection. (The property had been withdrawn after my initial email):
I was just going to send your company an email, when I read the News. Well, my son will have plenty of properties to look at when he returns from his holiday in Sydney.
This email is about a car registration plate I saw in Salisbury yesterday, not long after I saw the 7 Tower property for sale. The car rego was black/silver letters, I think, and read TOWLER.
You see, if you take the 7, as if it were a car and let it do a U-Turn, it becomes 7 Tower.
There was a little sequel to the Tower saga this morning. Just as I walked past the Salisbury Tower in John Street it chimed at 9.15am. I remembered a weird incident. A man I knew was in an open top car in the Christmas pageant on Nov. 19th about 7 weeks ago. I stood right under that tower (shade) and called out to him. He turned and threw me two lollies, one of which I caught in mid-air. I ate the lollie, a fantale, but didn't throw the paper away. I read the fan tale. It was about Meg Ryan, who happened to have her birthday that very day.
It made my day. I hope you have a successful year, and thanks for replying to my email.
,Driving Plus Adelaide
PS As you can see I am an expert in U-Turns. Perhaps I ought to try as a catcher in cricket or baseball.
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Fasten your seatbelt for a sequel to above sequel. A link from above Towler incident to the name Towle. On Sunday February 19th is was reported that a group of partygoers had been hit by a runaway driver. Six young people were dead and a number injured. Much of what I read or heard about this alleged tragedy did not make sense. Two things, however did make sense:
The name of the runaway driver was Towle (Towler minus r). The town where it happened was called Cardross, near Mildura, 400 kilometers away. (I immediately saw the similarity to the South Australian town - Ardrossan; I squeezed ‘can’ out of it).
What followed was a run-hit in Google, I discovered some more. Cardross also happens to be a Golf Club in Scotland. Here is what I stumbled across after googling for Cardross. It was about two golfers winning a championship:
Cardross' Jonathan King won the 2003 East of Scotland after being unable to defend his 2001 title last year. Jonathan, unable to defend last year due to professional examinations, won a tense 6 hole play off with Brian Innes who shot a last round 67. (He won the 1st Denholm Trophy).
The names of the competitors – King and Innes (N in IT) and the name of the trophy itself, Denholm (D & N L hom(e) made me play my little game.
But there was another name. The street where the accident allegedly had occurred is called Myall Street. The names of cross roads, crossing Myall Street are Boobook Ave and another Boomerang Ave. Those who know my story will recognize this street name from previous chapters. I started to put two and two together about it all.
In an email to a blogger's website in the US I suggested a very outside the box idea. If there were other reasons, why six young people suddenly died, and the real cause was not to be revealed, the staging of a hit-run would explain their deaths.
There would be plenty of grief, of course, but a hit-run would explain the teenager's death without many questions being asked.
Far fetched I know. But I have many questions. I always ask questions.
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At the end of chapter 14 is a picture of a cartoon - Free (Mr.) Beer. Leading up to Christmas 06 I discovered that there was a Free Bear campaign under way by a famous soft drink company. What ever happened to Vanilla Coke? - Has it gone Zero?
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From observing things around me I could tell, many prominent people in the media, in politics, even church leaders, listened to what I had written. Many believed my claims and saw the big picture. Some knew that it was all true. They had seen me physically, the places I was led to.
Many started to recognized God's mighty hand, working together in amazing circumstances. An intelligent designer is at work, otherwise the world would soon be in total chaos. God was and still is speaking to mankind in mighty, powerful ways. How HE wished they all would listen!
To a degree I feel frustration to be called to see all these things and to be writing about it. Even to me it is bizarre, how it is all emerging in such a strange fashion. At home this frustration is accentuated, because I have to act as if nothing unusual is happening. Everything is just fine, when I keep my observations to myself. To those not on a journey, all is co-incidence. What is magic to one is madness to another. How sad.
My heart is burning with what God is doing in our lives. Yet, I have to bottle up my innermost thoughts, my deepest desires, my hopes and my dreams and keep it from my children and from my wife. It really feels like I am in a prison. While my mind is constantly gaining more and more insight, I am forbidden to express it, except here online.
God will have the final say. I have known him long enough to know, what HE is telling me. HE clearly said to me it isso, when I asked, if it was real. I never forget the comfort I received, when my thoughts were telling me strange things.
Increasingly I found myself picking up references on TV, radio and the press. I knew this was a type of mental condition. But I forced myself to think rationally.
As an example, I picked up two clues, while watching the Michael Parkinson Show on TV. Both fitted into my world of codes. One guest on the program mentioned the time, 3.15am, in his first minute on air. The other, spoke about a Jack Warner. How did I link these into my sphere of thinking?
3.15 am I recognized easily as time of an important dream I had back in 2003. The numbers 3.1.5 continue to play a huge role in my story. The name Jack Warner I moulded into J see OK - he warn. I had told stories about a J and had warned many times of God's judgment to those who will not bow to HIS Lordship. It made sense to me.
If the two clues, however, were all one big co-incident, then there were hundreds of others. I dismissed this notion. To make a new discovery, co-incidence has to be eliminated at a certain point.
The second possibility is that I am really ill in the mind and need help with tablets, psychologist, psychiatrist etc. But I've been there, done that. I have recovered. I live a normal life, apart from my gift of seeing things and being guided by the Holy Spirit.
No, the notion that I am ill is less of an option than walking away declaring it all co-incidence. This leaves only one last possibility: It is all as I suspected. My story had traveled along the wires, via the internet and was making an impact in people's lives.
How magic, to think my dream was coming true - HIS Spirit was being poured out among the nations. Thousands upon thousands, even millions are affected by this wave of the Holy Spirit working among the nations, just as the Prophet Joel had prophesied.
I can't help drawing a parallel of this to the bird flew virus, HN 51, which is supposedly going round the word, infecting anybody that comes in contact with the virus. So is it with the Holy Spirit. HE works where HE wants to and 'infects' all those who are hungry for God.
To think that this event is coming to pass in this very generation, before our very eyes, is the wonder of it all. What a way for God to visit this earth, to break into our humble sphere, to show Himself how He really is and that HE is here with us.
The Psalm, which God had given me, days before my mental breakdown in 1999, was coming to pass. Psalm 94, Verses 1 & 2: “God, with you is vengeance. Come on - show yourself! Bring it to an end you judge of the whole world. Give the evildoers what they deserve”. (Translated from the German everyday-language bible).
HIS style, methods and language may be different to what you expected HIM to be. In the end All will know the truth. Truth always scores ten out of ten.
Truth sets us free.