And hath raised us up together and made us sit together in heavenly places in Christ Jesus.
I have a friend, Elaine, who has passed—she’s 13 years older than me. We went to Malaysia and Indonesia together. Her son, Ed, and I pray together.
Again, I say unto you that if two of you shall agree on earth as touching anything that they shall ask, it shall be done for them of my Father which is in heaven.
Ed’s son, David, was killed in Afghanistan just before my coming to Topanga. I texted him the above thought and he said he felt he was communicating with David and his mother, Elaine. I feel close to Rebecca—the stories I will send you will illustrate it. “As one whom his mother comforts, I will comfort you. . . We sorrow not as others who have no hope.”
“All things work together for good. . .” Romans 8:28
When my husband died, we were both 29. We had prayed so much and believed for a miracle. How could this happen? The next night there was a Presence in my room: These thoughts: _They that sow in tears shall reap in joy. This life is but a vapour. Dick will do more by his death than he could have done had he lived.” It was as though heaven’s gate opened. I had joy in the wake of mourning. I wore white to the funeral. You’ve read this story in my book?
Dick fulfilled his destiny. As Rebecca. She’s dancing, designing and drawing in another dimension. And in my spirit, I hear her telling me things. When you hear my stories, you will know it’s true—not just a feeling—I have the facts!
Wherefore we are compassed about with so great a cloud of witnesses. . . Hebrews
Along with this year’s Christmas letter I’ve included 2017–Security is in the Secret Place and Christmas 2018–The Necessity of Forgiveness and Judging by Appearance.
2017 tells how to memorize. When Rebecca was 3 years old, she recited the Christmas story, Luke 2: 1-16 at a large church—it was on TV. When she was 5, she recited I Corinthians 13—the Love Chapter for my cousin’s wedding. All my children memorized chapters—Jacinda and Jack are from my first marriage. My second marriage to Rebecca’s father is a whole BIG CHAPTER—difficult but I learned much through it—so I’m grateful.
All 3 of my children have master’s Degrees and are at the top of their field. Memorization is good for your brain—especially scripture.
Rebecca Hill—her professional name—you can google her—Brooklyn—At Swarthmore she majored in Biology and minored in religion. She got her master’s at Berkley in Landscape Architecture. She was Valedictorian of her high school senior class of 500. She was also Miss Fletcher—her talent—she played the piano. After graduating from Berkley, she was awarded a grant to go to countries in Eastern Europe –former East Germany, Poland, Lithuania, Latvia, and Estonia, Czech Republic, Russia, Belarus, Ukraine—study of landscape architecture. We’re still working on her obituary.
Jacinda program administer Supreme Court in Tallahassee. A promotion two offices–Lakeland and Tampa. When I go to her office in Tampa, judges tell me how wonderful she is. Her professional name: Jo Haynes
Jack Haynes—structural engineer—designs bridges. He was program manager of the renovation of The Bridge of Lions in St. Augustine. That year 1 of 10 bridges in the U.S. He was on NPR.
I want to encourage memorizing Psalm 91. It’s easy to do if you follow my instructions. It’s the Whole Method. I learned it in college. I majored in Interpretative Speech. For my senior recital I did The Barretts of Wimpole Street—the love story of Robert Browning and Elizabeth Barrett.
How many grandchildren do you have? I have 8. What are their names and ages and birthdays? I will pray for them. At present some of mine have some difficulties but I believe All my children shall be taught of the Lord and great shall be the peace of my children. Isaiah 54
All 3 of my children put themselves through college without any financial help from me. In fact, they have helped me. At times it was hard for them when I was having episodes, landing in the Mental Health Resource Center or psychiatric ward. I have some funny stories to tell how I got in there—like wearing two different shoes. At times, been temporality estranged—which was heart breaking to me. However, I am close to them now. I believe those episodes are in the past and over. I feel stabilized.
I believe part of my destiny is to do something about mental health. I’ve done workshops all over the United States for mental health organizations—The main one: Alternatives.
I didn’t intend to write so much—just a few notes.
I will never forget that when I was facilitating a group at your place and brought a million props and went all over the world with my illustrations—I was in mania and my friend, Rich Greenberg, said, “Yes, Sheilah, you were over the top—too much.” I came to apologize to you, and you said, “Oh no you were great! Everyone should be like you!”
Here’s two favorite songs: I’ve done a workshop entitled: I Want to Hear the Music. I will send it in another email.
Master, The Tempest is Raging, Jason Dixon
You Raise Me Up—Andre Rieu
Do you remember when I wanted you to come to Van Cortlandt Park and go for a walk? I was thinking you were trying to do too much, and you needed to slow down and be reflective.
I’ve been thinking about Lady Liberty Quality of Life Bubble Bash. The perfect day to make it a National Holiday is April 1—the day we end the foolishness. We talked about doing this. But how could we do it now? People could come out of their houses with bubbles—doesn’t have to be a big rally—just get the word out—We’re going to wash the city clean
with our bubbles.
I got things for a podcast for my birthday in July but haven’t opened the box since my priority has been Rebecca and Noah ad Nathanel. Long ago I had a radio program 5 days a week for 5 minutes. I love radio.
I like this verse:
As iron sharpens iron, so a man sharpens the countenance of his friend. Proverbs 27:17
You are this to me–you encourage me. I’m sending alot of attachments. They aren’t long. Read at your leisure.
Lady Liberty Quality of Life Brigade and Shining River Press
Shining River will go all over the world, singing, dancing, laughing, leaping from sea to shining sea, gathering beauty, wisdom, understanding, instruction and knowledge from many pens, musicians, composers, poets, artists, teachers, carpenters, gardeners, etc–some from the distant past, some from the emerging present, some from the budding future. We shall return to The Garden!
“Therefore they shall come and sing in the height of Zion, and shall flow together to the goodness of the LORD, for wheat, and for wine, and for oil, and for the young of the flock and of the herd: and their soul shall be as a watered garden; and they shall not sorrow any more at all.”–Jeremiah 31:12
“She gathers together the outcasts” (Psalm 147:2) to make Polk County a world class example for mental health and prisoners. The Brigade will have dental for everyone and musical instruments. A plan of recovery–not Big Pharma Making Mental Patients. Psychiatric is at the top of health care expense. Recovery will greatly reduce cost. We will have respite houses for those in altered states of consciousness (see Lakeland Ledger comments to mental illness articles blog below) We will make banners (Song of Solomon 6: “awesome as an army with banners”)and restore furniture, write books, art, music, etc. The income will more than take care of the expense. Grants will flood in for such a program. What if we believed in redemption?
“Psychiatry has no label for delusions of grandeur that come to pass.”
–Dr. Ronald Fieve, Mood Swing
“For with God nothing shall be impossible.”
Recovery is the will of God. I am VERY ENCOURAGED FOR AMERICA. The greatest liability America has is this distortion of truth, lies, jumping to judgment. I see this shortly to blow off of center stage and then what is already in the wings to come forth—so many wonderful people doing what they have been put on this earth to do! Praise God from whom all blessings flow! “They shall beat their swords into plowshares and not learn war anymore.” “Glory to God in the Highest and on earth, peace. . .”the angels sang.
Many victorious battles have been won by music. Examples: Psalm100, Psalm 149; 150; II Chronicles 20; Acts 16:20-24, Nehemiah 6, I Samuel 16:23; II Kings 6:8-23; Judges 6-8;Joshua; Psalm 46; Luke 2:13,14. Biblically, we are told over 500 times to “Praise the Lord” and 400 times to “Fear not.” Security is in the Secret Place—God’s 911 #-Psalm 91:1 “She who dwells in the Secret Place. . .”—Memorize Psalm 91. Read aloud for 10 days. Shut Bible, stumble through, see where you missed. Repeat. For children who can’t read, after 10 days leave out words—start with Psalm 23 or Psalm 100. End of month it’s in your heart.
“The greatest progress needs to be made in the human heart.” –President William Jefferson Clinton
The Meetinghouse, Shining River, 1400 Old Bartow Eagle Lake Rd. #4110, Bartow, Florida 33830, 863-409-7071; Go to Web site and click on recent thoughts blog for comments on Lakeland Ledger articles on Mental Illness and the Baker Act—present condition in Polk County.http://www.ladylibertyqualityoflifebrigade.com
Lady Liberty Quality of Life Brigade Bubble Bash
April 1, 2012
As some of you may already know, Lady Liberty is taking over New York City. She has already made her first law. It is this:
No one is to leave his or her apartment without first blowing bubbles. She has even given children authority to call their parents back, “Mommy, you forgot to blow your bubbles.” Whereupon parents must instantly stop rushing everyone out the door with “We’re late—hurry,” etc. and must smile and obediently go back and blow bubbles.
You can readily see the wisdom of this law. It reminds us:
(1) to SLOW DOWN. (After all, Security is in the Secret Place. This will enable you to safely be in the right place at the right time doing the right thing surrounded by the angels.)
(2) that “A little child shall lead them.” (The Master said, “Except we become as little children, we cannot enter the Kingdom of God.” When you don’t know what to do, watch the children. “ Their angels do always behold the face of the Father/Mother in heaven.”
(3) To have fun this day—make love all day long in word and deed—Sing, Dance, Laugh every chance you get.
The Perfect Law of Liberty
Of course, the first law is the
Royal Law of Love.
“Love is the fulfillment of all laws.”
“Owe no person anything but to love her.”
Love must be the motive of all we do.
Sometimes love is gentle.
Sometimes love weeps.
Sometimes love is angry, because you cannot love intensely without the capacity of intense anger against that which would destroy what you love.
Sometimes love SCREAMS! (If you see a child run before a car, you don’t say, “Excuse me, sir, would you be so kind as to back up and not run over my baby?”
NO, YOU SCREAM! YOU RUN! YOU PULL OUT ALL STOPS! YOU MUST GET THE MESSAGE OUT!
Love is SCREAMING and may appear as madness to those who are blind and deaf.
TODAY, STOP, LOOK, AND LISTEN IN THE NAME OF LOVE.
TODAY, LET LOVE LAUGH!
“I’m forever blowing bubbles!”
Dictated to and subscribed by
The Lady of the Wind
THE DIAGNOSIS OF A BIRTHMARK
I know not what may be the cost to both of us to rid me of this fatal birthmark. It may be the stain goes as deep as life itself. . .
In Nathaniel Hawthorne’s story, “The Birthmark,” a scientist, Aylmer, marries Georgianna, a woman whose flawless beauty is perfect, except for a crimson birthmark upon her cheek. Very soon after they are married Aylmer, gazing at his wife and contemplating the birthmark, asks, “Georgianna, has it never occurred to you that the mark upon your cheek might be removed?”
Georgianna merrily answers, “No, indeed. To tell you the truth it has been so often called a charm that I have imagined it might be so.”
However, her husband persists, saying since she is so nearly perfect, the birthmark shocks him as being “the visible mark of earthly imperfection.”
Georgianna is surprised — and deeply hurt– by this reaction, “Then why did you take me from my mother’s side? You cannot love what shocks you.”
As the days pass, the defect becomes intolerable to both. Georgianna, who before had accepted the birthmark as part of her uniqueness, comes to accept her husband’s judgment. Alas, it becomes the central focus. Georgianna’s other beauty and blessings are forgotten, dwarfed by what is considered a flaw. Georgianna learns to shudder at her husband’s gaze and finally believes her life to be “wretched” unless the birthmark is removed.
Thus, it is resolved that Aylmer should endeavor to remove the hated birthmark in his laboratory.
The experiment is successful. With joy Aylmer watches as the birthmark disappears! However, his ecstasy is but a moment, for the birthmark proves to be rooted in Georgianna’s heart. With its removal her very life is extinguished.
I write of another mark. . .a birthmark shrouded with misunderstanding and judgmental error. It is a mark, of which the pronouncements have caused untold suffering and blunted pain beyond tears. Begetting indescribable sleepless nights, once alert, inquisitive and brilliant minds now shuffle, stumbling down institutional halls with no more meaningful purpose than to count the floor tiles. This is a mark that medicates the mystic and locks the visionary in padded cell.
Its imprint severs relationships, even separating mother and child. It is a label causing others to pass by on the other side. Routinely judged ill without redemption the resulting intense negative focus may smother life itself, piercing the heart.
What dreaded blemish should possess such a description?
A lady slowly opens the door and pauses on the threshold. Dare she reveal she has such a birthmark, or shall she appear to speak of another–perhaps, someone else with whom she is acquainted?
Do you see her, hesitant, vulnerable? Suddenly a determination comes to her! “If I perish, I perish!” It is decided. This Haman of unfounded fears and accumulated myths must be hung on the gallows of truth! No longer shall the destruction of the marked people be endured! Boldly she speaks, “I have such a birthmark and it shall not be removed for it is a gift from the Creator. It is not the birthmark that has caused the suffering, but the misunderstanding that must be exposed. The psychiatric branding must plead guilty.”
One may believe one has touched eternity, investigated the heart of the cosmos, understood the wisdom of the ages and, in so doing, dared to vision dreams unspeakable. But then authoritative voices drown out feeble conceptions . . .voices rising in volume and number –“mentally ill. . .schizophrenic . . .delusions of grandeur . . .bizarre behavior. . .manic-depressive. . .” Voices, the gray walls whispering. . .one must be medicated to become “normal”. . .
Some, with blank eyes and listless step, accept the mark’s diagnosis of madness. Seeing to what dire circumstances this resulting illness has brought — locked in wards with purposeless activities–even as human voices around them seem to have hearts of stone, one concludes that God has also forsaken them. Doors are opened for thoughts, as fiends from hell, to bombard one’s brain day and night, accusing of sins, real or imagined, suggesting that present circumstances could only mean that one has committed the unpardonable sin for which there is no forgiveness in this life or in the life to come.
All focus is now on the mark — the mark of the labeled “mental illness” — to which the frailness of one’s visions have been equated. The making of a mental patient. . . a wasted life to warehouse. . . a gift become disease, plague, disability. . .
There are times when we are forced to rise from our comfortably upholstered positions and forsake all that we have imagined, all that has been handed down, all that we have learned or self-contrived. Realizing that we have been futilely seeking to jam keys in locks that will not open, at last there is a parting of the conceptual veil, and a light shine in the darkness. . .
The lady picks up a pen and writes in her journal, “That which others may deem a liability, I embrace. This birthmark which has enlarged my perceptions of reality, increased my creativity, freed me from religious rigidity, and given compassion and understanding. . .. . . This mark so woven into the fabric of who I have become. . . This beloved birthmark which has taken refuge in my heart and which goes as deep as life itself . . .. .”
Standing Somewhere in the Shadows
(This is part of a book, Sometimes You Must be he Music.)
When I woke on the morning of March 7, 2004, nearly a year after the war in Iraq began, I was thinking of shadows and about how my friend, Howard, likes to take pictures of them. If we are walking along and I have a camera, which I frequently do, and he sees an interesting shadow, he will take the camera from me and click the shadow. Thinking of this, I remembered that quote, “Everything in the physical is a shadow of the reality in the spirit.”
. . .while we look not at the things that are seen,
but the things that are not seen.
For the things that are seen are temporal,
but the things that are not seen are eternal.
II Corinthians 4:18
Then into my spirit came a song that has been precious to me, Standing Somewhere in the Shadows You’ll See Jesus. My mother and aunt sang it the first time I was in a psychiatric ward– which was after the death of my husband:
Standing Somewhere in the Shadows You’ll See Jesus
It begins, “Are there burdens too heavy to carry. . .”
Then forgetting about shadows, I proceeded with my day. However, on this day, the idea of shadows was to persist. Looking for something in an old folder, I came across an old Quaker calendar. In the calendar were quotations for the months of the year and the first one I saw, to my amazement, was:
For art not thou the human shadow
of that infinite love that made and fills the universe?
Richard Watson Bilder 1844-1909
Now I knew for sure that the Spirit wanted to say something about shadows. Here was something tangible to go along with my earlier thoughts. I love when this happens—like a treasure hunt with clues—the invisible world seeking to break through.
While the calendar was still in my hand, the doorbell rang. It was Boolynn, a new friend who was coming for the first time to assist me. She expressed delight over the bumper sticker on my door: Bring Back the Horse. This, too, came about because of my friend, Howard. One day in the library he had written “Bring Back the Horse” over the Auto Section of the New York Times. I felt it was a message and subsequently had my friend, Monica, design the bumper stickers–the message of the bumper stickers is that we should slow down.
After my mother’s death an old book, The Unobstructed Universe, came into my hands. From this book:
One of the causes for the instability you note in peoples, individuals, society, thought, art, is the ultra and sudden ease of communication in time and in space. The use of radio, the automobile and the airplane are not stabilized. They have been too rapidly developed and perfected for the assimilation of society in general.
If this were true when the book was written, copyright 1940, what about the life-transforming inventions that have come along since that time? The impact of the new technology itself often overwhelms that of the message. The thought of the book was that we need to improve the quality of our messages before we advance our technology. Putting through inferior, wrong messages does more harm than good. Spam is a perfect example of this. There are many television programs we would be better off without.
“For enquire, I pray thee, of the former age, and prepare thyself. . . to the search of their fathers. For we are but of yesterday, and know nothing, because our days upon earth are a shadow.” Job 8
I told Boolynn about the “shadow” messages. She said, “Oh! I just had an epiphany about shadows three weeks ago.” She had noticed how beautiful shadows can be. They are fascinating. Did you ever notice the shadow of tree branches on the sidewalk?
We were standing in the foyer. Both of us noticed while we were standing by a banner I had made:
Boolynn is an artist. She showed me her sketchpad. She likes to draw people and her pad had sketches of the homeless people on the subway. “It’s easy to draw them,” she said, “since often they are sleeping.” She was turning the pages. A drawing caught my attention, “What is this?” I asked.
“It’s a group of Moslem women fleeing. It just came to me. I saw them in my spirit.” I continued looking at the drawing. As they are fleeing, they are looking behind them in fear. She had entitled it, “Fleeing women”. I entitled it, “Women in Shadow.”
March 8, 2004
The next morning, I looked out my window to a magical day. Oh, the snow! How beautiful! Big fluffy snowflakes were dancing down. Just like last year’s spring when the snow kept coming back. What a beautiful way to cover and water the earth! My first thought was to run to the woods of Van Cortlandt Park only ten minutes away, take my camera, and play in the snow. But alas, I was too full of “first I must do this and then I must do that.” When I would have been ready, the gentle blanket was gone—which is a reminder to dare to drop everything, be a child and spontaneously seize the moment.
I did, however, continue to think about Boolynn’s picture —fearful shadows fleeing. What should the next picture be?
“They that sit in darkness have seen a great light!”
I imagined their faces now. The fear is gone. They are in wonderment. Incredible joy now transforms them. It is a world where the voice of women is not silenced but brought forth.
She that dwelleth in the Secret Place of the Most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, our Father, our Mother, He is my refuge and my fortress. .
The Lord gave the word; great was the company of women who published it. Psalm 118:11
Standing somewhere in the shadows you will see Him. . .
Suddenly—electrifying as a bolt of summer lightning–I remembered a very special dream my daughter, Rebecca, had when she was seven. The “shadow of Jesus” was in it. I had written down the dream at the time, but now where was it? It was so long ago. Had I possibly copied it in my old WordPerfect files? It definitely was pre-computer.
In looking through those files, I saw “Recrown.” Maybe the “Re” stood for Rebecca and there was a “crown” in her dream? I clicked it. However, it wasn’t that at all; the “Recrown” stood for “Return to Crown Heights.” When I first came to New York, I had stayed in Crown Heights in Brooklyn. This was about returning some time later. It also had a “shadow” reference in it. I include it in this weaving together of shadow images:
Returning to Crown Heights
(When I first visited New York in 1988, I stayed in Crown Heights. In this story I revisit this neighborhood. I have not yet moved to New York.)
It is Sunday, so the streets are filled. The Hasidim with their long black coats and tall homburgs — people talking together — children, women with baby carriages — community. And what is happening at the synagogue? Scaffolding, plywood steps, notices posted. I wonder if the Rebbe is still giving out dollars on Sundays. (The dollars were symbolic of charity’s importance and in anticipation of the coming of Moshiah.)
When last I was here, it was also Sunday, and feeling led, and for the experience, I, too, was standing in line to receive a dollar from the Rebbe.
Seeing this as an opportunity to give those waiting in line a chance to practice their charity, people with cups were there, too. Instead of asking me for money, one such woman, with clumsy galoshes and wisps of grey hair coming out from beneath her scarf, pressed a dollar in my hand. When I looked at her, she smiled and winked at me as though she and I shared a secret. I had an awareness that she perceived me in spirit and that she was only posing with her cup.
However, today there are no lines by the synagogue . . .
I notice the building on the corner across from the synagogue–Parkway Arms — boarded up windows giving a feeling of blindness, tall weeds in the yard, trash all about. A building uncared for, uninhabited.
I am given to symbolizing physical things as shadows–of other realities — realities in the spirit. Some people are like that building, I thought, — unseeing, empty. Others, uncared for, need to be touched by kindness so that their eyes may radiate purpose and hope, and their hearts be established.
I start walking down Kingston. Here are pay phones written solid with graffiti and barred making them useless. Phones, instruments through which no message can be given . . .
I press my hand and face against dark shop windows — all destroyed inside . . . Now the library, it should be right here . . . yes, that door and wasn’t there a linen shop somewhere near? Is this the right place or is it gone? It’s here.
A big banner is over the street; it reads:
MOSHIAH IS ON THE WAY; BE A PART OF IT.
MOSHIAH; LET’S BE READY.
When I was here before, there were signs throughout the neighborhood saying:
WE WANT MOSHIAH NOW.
However, now the energy — the urgency — of this focus seems to be multiplied; as I walk down the street, I see numerous notices in the windows of the shops, and right here by this RELIGIOUS ARTICLES SHOP, I pause to read:
I believe with
in the coming of
Though he tarry,
nonetheless I await him every day
that he will come.
All the books in the display window are on this same subject. Talmudic, Midrashic and classic Rabbinic sources are collected in Highlights Of Moshiah, Sound the Great Shofar, on the imminence of Redemption, is from the addresses of the Lubavitcher Rebbe. Let’s Get Ready is a book for children. Other titles include I Await His Coming Every Day, From Exile to Redemption, and The Wolf Shall Lie With The Lamb. Information is given about The International Campaign to Help Bring Moshiah.
Walking further into the neighborhood I’m sensitive to what prompts my memory. Might I even chance to see a familiar face? Only familiar buildings. The Brownstones . . . grace of another era . . . someday I should like to have a brownstone all my own. I love the Victorian architecture of those tall row houses with bowed out windows and high stoops. To be sure they are quite drab in Brooklyn’s Crown Heights, but still they captivate me.
There was a lady at a quiet vegetarian restaurant in St. Mark’s Place in the village — you go down a narrow passage away from the noise of the street. When I mentioned Crown Heights to her, she said, “Oh, yes, I know the area well.” She looked away in thought, “It used to be a place where everyone loved everybody.”
Maybe that’s what I feel about this neighborhood. I sense the essence of those who were here before in these streets so lived and dreamed in . . .
I look beyond buildings needing paint, unkempt streets, graffiti and scrubby little yards. With my eyes I paint the buildings, clean the streets, plant flowers in the yards, and imagine past grandeur . . . and exceeding any yesterday, I call those things that are not as though they are . . . I people the streets with laughter, music and dancing. I see children playing safely in them . . . I visualize splendor . . . even as I did that first spring . . .
Are You Looking Forward to the Coronation?
I love the serendipity of memory–to think of one thing that leads to remembering another, while thoughts, as angel whispers, guide our hands, clicking the mouse, turning pages. . .
Being unable to find my daughter’s dream in my computer files, I assume it must be pre-computer–in my old-fashioned files. I leaf through to “Dreams” and there it is!
I am ecstatic when I read the date! March 8—today’s date! So, this is the secret of the shadow messages! March 8, 1981, twenty-three years ago—which, incidentally, is Lady Liberty’s number. I look at the clock—7:30. It must have been about this time, too, because I was waking Rebecca up for school.
Sunday, March 8, 1981
This morning when I woke Rebecca for school, she said, “Oh, Mama, Mama, I had the most wonderful dream I ever have had!”
“Tell me, what was it?”
“There was a war going on near the Garden of Eden. I went to the Garden of Eden and on my way, I saw a shadow—the shadow of Jesus. Then I saw two angels. I started to talk to them and then I went back. Then I was going up a hill. I saw the angels again and one of them said, “Rebecca, come here.”
So, I went there, and he said, “Rebecca, are you looking forward for when Jesus comes back?”
I said, “Yes.” And then the angels handed me a bag with books that had Bible verses in them.
I went back up the hill. I started to read the books.
Mama, when I had this dream, it didn’t seem like it was a dream. It seemed like it was real and that I was really doing it!
The hill was steep. You had to put one foot at a time. There were walls and sort of lines on the walls. It didn’t look pretty—sand was on the ground.
When I was at the top of the hill, I looked down and the war was over, and I saw people going in different directions.
“What did the angels look like?”
The angels were as big as regular people. They had white robes. They didn’t have wings and they didn’t have flaming swords. (She’s seen pictures of angels by the Garden of Eden and they had wings and flaming swords.) They had blue, kind gentle eyes. In the back there was light-—sort of like the sun–there was a big round thing of light. It was so bright; I couldn’t see behind the light.”
“Were there any other people going up the hill?”
“The only people going up the hill were children. It was a warm day.”
“Did you like going up the hill?”
“It was hard to go up the hill. It was steep. The angels were sitting at the front of the Garden of Eden, but then suddenly they were going up the hill with me.”
“What did the books say?”
“I can’t remember, but I think it was something in Isaiah.”
“Do you think you would remember if you heard it again?”
“In the Bible Pharaoh couldn’t remember his dream. But Joseph told it to him.”
“I wish Joseph was still alive.”
“Don’t you think God could tell someone else what the words were and the interpretations of it”?
“Yes, who do you think could?”
“I don’t know, but I believe God gave you this dream. Even though there was a war and the hill was hard to climb, it was still a wonderful dream?”
The next morning when we were walking to school, Rebecca said, “Mama, on that paper, did you already type it?” (I had written down her exact words.)
“Well, when the angels said, ‘Rebecca come here’, they really didn’t say, ‘Are you looking forward to when Jesus comes back’, but I couldn’t think of that word, and I knew that it was something like that. Coronation. That’s the word they said, “Are you looking forward to the Coronation?”
I was amazed. Because I knew that word was not in her seven-year-old
I made a banner on burgundy velvet and it hung for a long time in the little chapel at Beaches’ Chapel, Jacksonville Beach, Florida.
Rebecca and Matt have a BIG poster by their door:
Here’s 2 First verses:
“But seek ye first the kingdom of God and His righteousness and all these things shall be added unto you.”
“I exhort therefore, that FIRST, supplications, prayers, intercessions and giving of thanks, be made for all men. For kings, and for all that are in authority, that we may lead a quiet and peaceable life in all godliness and honesty.
I Timothy 2:1,2
Just condemning something won’t change it. We need to put prayer behind our actions and change things in the spirit world—where the activity really is. Everything in the physical is a shadow of the reality in the spirit.
Jesus, Jesus, Jesus
Dear friends at Christmas 2017,
This has been a year, hasn’t it? My friends and family are scattered all over. When Hurricane Irma came to Florida, I with my children and grandchildren were in 3 different places—all near destruction but we personally experienced nothing more than fallen branches. Fires in Oregon, my sister near enough to smell the smoke, but safe. My brothers near shooting in Las Vegas. Fires at present in southern California near my daughter, grandchildren, in-laws, cousins, nieces and nephew.
Where is security? I encourage you to memorize Psalm 91—it’s the Protection Psalm. Many give testimony that it saved their lives. Some books with these testimonies: Psalm 91: Real Life Stories of God’s Shield of Protection and What This Psalm Means for You and Those You Love. By Peggy Joyce Ruth. There are books for Military, Mothers, Children—all with true stories of the power of this Psalm. Also, it’s good for our brains to memorize. Love, Sheilah (and Mom and Mimi)
Answering: How did 9/ll affect you?
SECURITY IS IN THE SECRET PLACE
I live in Riverdale in the Bronx, less than one hour by subway from the World Trade Center. The morning of 9/ll I went to vote. I half heard some ladies talking something about, “Isn’t it terrible? The World Trade Center. . .” But my mind wasn’t focused on this conversation. I was thinking of my new grandson, Jonathan, born just three days earlier on the eighth.
As soon as I got home, I called my daughter in Tallahassee, Florida, to see how they were doing.
“Mom!” she exclaimed, “We’ve been trying to call you but couldn’t get through! The World Trade Center. . . .”
It was she who told me. I flipped on the TV as she spoke. However, only one channel was broadcasting because of what had been done to the towers. Finding that one, I, like most Americans, watched all day.
In my first reactions, I wondered, what other things were going to be blown up. Should I get out of New York City? And if so, what should I take with me? But where would be a safe place to go?
However, as days passed, and I heard of military plans, increasing security at the airports, etc., I instinctively knew that security did not rely in these measures. Physically, no matter how much money was spent, there was no way that one could foreknow where to put policemen, scanners, and the military for certain safety. There could only be one antidote for fear—Security is in the Secret Place. Victory is only possible through weapons of the Spirit—love, joy peace, prayer, praise, faith, food, clothing, shelter, etc. If ever there was opportunity to learn this, it is now.
“911,” people said, “The emergency number.” However, God has a 911 number—Psalm 91:1: “He that dwelleth in the Secret Place of the Highest shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty.” This Psalm became an anchor for me: “Thou shalt not be afraid of the terror. . .He shall give His angels charge over thee. . .” I determined to be motivated by love and develop my inner listening powers.
Security is in the Secret Place
God’s 911# Psalm 91:1
To Memorize: Read aloud for 10 days. Then shut the Bible and stumble through the best you can. Open and see where you missed. At the end of a month, or less, you will have memorized it. For children who can’t yet read: Read it for 10 days. Then leave out words for them to fill in—more and more until it is memorized. You might start with shorter Psalm 23 or 100.
He (She) who dwells in the Secret Place of the Most High
shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty.
I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress:
my God; in Him will I trust.
Surely, He shall deliver you from the snare of the fowler,
and from the noisome pestilence.
He (She)* shall cover you with His (Her) feathers,
and under His (Her) wings you shall take refuge.
His truth shall be your shield and buckler.
You shall not be afraid for the terror by night;
Nor for the arrow that flies by day;
Nor for the pestilence that walks in darkness;
Nor for the destruction that wastes at noonday.
A thousand shall fall at your side, and ten thousand at your right hand;
But it shall not come nigh you.
Only with your eyes shall you behold and see the reward of the wicked.
Because you have made the Lord, who is my refuge, even the Most High, your
No evil shall befall you, neither shall any plague come nigh your dwelling.
For He shall give His angels charge over you, to keep you in all your ways.
They shall bear you up in their hands, lest you dash your foot against a stone.
You shalt tread upon the lion and cobra:
The young lion and the serpent you shall trample underfoot.
Because he (she) hath set his (her) love upon Me, therefore I will deliver him (her).
I will set him (her) on high because he (she) has known My name.
He (she) shall call upon Me and I will answer him (her):
I will be with him (her) in trouble; I will deliver him (her), and honour him (her).
With long life will I satisfy him (her) and show him (her) My salvation.”
*God is both our Father and our Mother—hence I have used the feminine here for this obvious feminine reference. “Howbeit when She, the Spirit of truth, is come, She will guide you into all truth: for She shall not speak of Herself, but whatsoever She shall hear, that shall ‘She speak, and She will show you things to come.” John 16:13 (In the original, the pronoun is feminine.) “Forasmuch as ye are manifestly declared to be the epistle of Christ ministered by us, written not with ink, but with the Spirit of the living God, not in tables of stone, but in fleshy tables of the heart. II Corinthians 3:3
Copyright 2017. This means you can copy and let The Wind carry it.
This is our first Christmas without our beloved Rebecca. I’ve been in Topanga, California, since February, except for a brief time in March. You can call me: 863-409-7071.
I’m grateful for all the remembrances from family and friends and the love and appreciation you express of her beautiful, extraordinary life. We have a Memorial Page in progress. You can go there: Rebecca-Hill-Leising.forevermissed.com
Rebecca, I sit here in your house in Topanga. I look out the window to the mountains. Even though the vegetation is dry now, it’s still majestic and beautiful.
I am grateful for the months I spent with you. We told each other our stories—some of which I knew bits and pieces. You filled in the details. One lengthy story happened after you graduated from Swarthmore. You took a challenging road trip west starting with driving a car for a friend. It fell apart and became undrivable. Fortunately, this happened near Cleveland and your Aunt Sondra’s. Sondra and Jane helped you get on your way. This adventure included riding a bike from Seattle with other girls going to Portland. However, the bike trip proved to be too much, and you stopped before its completion. Bravely, you went hiking alone in Glacier Park, Montana—a place where there are bears. Synchronistically, people appeared to help you when you needed help.
A chapter of your life was at Slide Ranch Here you met Matt—dramatically while you both fire walked.
I’m remembering your wedding at Marin Beach and Pelican Inn—how beautiful you were! Jack walked you down on the sand, Abby was flower girl. Jacinda had just given birth to Jonathan. The sky, the sand, the water! The next day we all went to Slide Ranch. . .
My mind goes back and forth between memories, old and new. . .
When you lived on Strong Place in Brooklyn, I took care of Noah. Nearing the time for you to come home, I’d hold him up to the window so he could see you ride up on your bicycle. Oh, what excitement when he saw you! You and Noah laughing! I see you driving toy trucks with Noah across the floor. Playing with Noah and then with Nate, the trains and tracks. A precious video, which I never tire of watching, is Noah beginning to crawl—actually, his first crawl. is captured with Matt, you and Charleston, the cat, witnessing. He is so delighted with himself! And, of course, you and Matt are too. You lift him in the air laughing.
When Nate was born, Matt’s parents, Noah and I went to see him with Matt and you at the hospital. I see you holding Nate and Noah coming near wanting to touch him, the little brother he’s heard about is finally here.
You were a delightful baby and little girl, an exceptional daughter all your life. The last difficult months you were patient and sweet and sought to be cheerful and positive. You are an artist. Being a landscape architect was an appropriate profession for you. You love nature and you make things beautiful—which I believe you are still doing in another dimension. You love to plant things—flowers are emblems of heaven. Your standard for whatever you do, has always been excellence.
At the last after you spent a few days in the hospital, I’m grateful that Hospice arranged for you to come home to be here among the mountains. We gathered around—Matt, Noah, Nate, Jeff and Tracy, Matt’s parents, and Adam, Matt’s brother and me.
Jacinda, Jack, their children, Abigail, Robert, Jonathan, Patrick Anabelle, Philip, Sondra and her family, your dear friends from as long ago as high school, Melissa and Melanie—they all Face Timed.
We spoke to you and believed you heard us. Psalm 121 was read:
I will lift up mine eye unto the hills, from whence cometh my help.
My help cometh from the Lord, which made heaven and earth.
After which the doctor took the respirator out. I held your right hand and Matt, your left. Your hand moved slightly in mine a few times.
You breathed on your own for a little while and then peacefully you left.
Eddie, who takes Atrix, the dog, for walks, brought a bouquet of flowers with this note, “No words.” I understand for words are not easy for me now. These seem inadequate for all I feel. Maybe later.
I look down the many steps up this hill to the house. I’d go down for a walk or to get the mail and come back to you.
But now I come back, and you are not here. I cannot see you. I cannot hear you.
However, I talk to you as I go down the steps. Sometimes maybe you hear.
Adam, Matt’s brother, cut your hair on the deck. Your cut hair was swept up. However, one day I saw a curl that had escaped the sweeping. It was on one of the steps. I picked it up and put it in a book.
Because of Jesus, I know I will see you again. Because of Jesus, I know you live.
From the end of the earth will I cry unto Thee. When my heart is overwhelmed, lead me to The Rock that is higher than I. Psalm 61: 2
Jesus is acquainted with grief—this prophecy many years before his birth:
Surely, he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows. . .Isaiah 53
As one whom his mother comforteth, so will I comfort you. Isaiah 66:13
Dear friends and family,
Security is in the Secret Place . Last year I wrote about memorizing Psalm 91—God’s
911 #, the Protection Psalm. Read it aloud for 10 days, shut your Bible and stumble through it,
see where you made mistakes, repeat. It will be yours. Below are 2 main things I want to pass on:
The Necessity of Forgiveness
Coming out of surgery, my cousin, Jeff May, told of his experience on The Other Side
where he was made to understand the extreme importance of forgiveness and the horror if one
should in a place of no forgiveness. Subsequently, he called his sister and ex-wife making things
right with them, forgiving and asking for their forgiveness. Jeff was most passionate about
spreading this message. Jeffrey has passed on. I want to voice his passion. God gave Jeff an
extraordinary voice. You can hear him: Utube; Jeff May, “ I Bowed on My Knees and Cried
When I speak at mental health conferences, I always seek to include how to forgive:
While in Indonesia, a college girl, noting how youthful I appeared, asked me, “Tell me
how to stay young.”
I told her, “Never let unforgiveness or bitterness stay in your heart. Give it to God.
Unforgiveness will put ugly lines on your face and will make you ill.”
Learning to forgive is foundational for healing and recovery. How can we forgive? How
can we get out of the victim mode and transcend the experiences we have had?
Often the unforgiveness will not be towards others, but towards ourselves.
Unforgiveness is poison and causes depression. We can swallow antidepressant pills coming and
going, but if the cause of depression is unforgiveness, recovery will never really come.
One may ask, “Well, how can I forgive? I can’t help it. I can’t get rid of these feelings?”
A powerful story of forgiveness is told in the life of Corrie ten Boom. During the
Holocaust, she and her father and sister hid Jewish people in their home in Holland. This was
discovered, and she and her father and sister were sent to a concentration camp in Ravenbruck,
Germany. Her sister and father died in the camp, but Corrie was a survivor. After the war she
was active helping victims in rehabilitation. She noticed that those who were able to forgive
recovered, but those who focused on their bitterness were unable to get well.
One night she was speaking in a church in Munich. As she always did, she emphasized
the blessing of God’s forgiveness and our need to forgive others. At the back was a man who had
been a former guard at the very camp where she had been. Since that time, he had repented.
After the meeting Corrie saw him approaching her. Her heart froze. She envisioned what she and
Betsy, her sister, had gone through. She saw his mocking face. She thought, I cannot face this
man. But he was coming toward her with his hand outstretched to her. “A fine message,
Fraulein! I was a guard at the camp where you were. Since that time, I’ve made things right with
God and asked him to forgive me for the cruel things I did there. But it would be a real blessing
to know you forgive me, too. Fraulein, will you forgive me?”
Corrie stood there. In a panic, she prayed, “Jesus, help me.” The thought came, “Just
extend your hand.”
As she mechanically did so, something supernatural happened. The feeling came, and
she could say with sincerity, “I do forgive you my brother, with all my heart.”
This story illustrates (1) Forgiveness is first an act of the will—not a feeling. (2) Pray.
You need a Higher Power to help you. (3) The feeling in your heart will come—maybe not
immediately. (4) Forgiveness does not mean condoning that which is wrong. (5) Forgiveness
may mean removing yourself from someone who is abusive.
It is not wrong to be angry over wrong and speak out strongly regarding it, but, at the
same time, we need to give the situation to God and not let bitterness take root in our hearts.
Dearly beloved, avenge not yourselves, but rather give place unto wrath; for it is written,
Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord. Therefore, if thine enemy hunger, feed him; if he
thirst, give him drink: for in so doing thou shalt heap coals of fire on his head.
Be not overcome of evil but overcome evil with good. Romans 12:19-21
Jesus said, “Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate
you and pray for them which despitefully use you and persecute you.” (Matt.5) For an example of
“If your enemy hunger, feed him,” Read I Kings 6:8-23.
Another thought has come to me recently. What if we totally forgive someone, but they
may not know what they did? We should tell them. “ Moreover, if thy brother shall trespass
against thee, go and tell him his fault between thee and him alone. . .” ( Matthew 18.) It can
enlarge our own perception and gives them opportunity to explain, say they’re sorry, or stop
doing the same thing. I would want this opportunity for myself. If there was any argument or
fighting our grandmother, Christina, would put her hand on our arm and say, “You go now and
“If it be possible, as much as lieth in you, live peaceably with all men. “
The world is full of angry people seeking revenge for centuries—the Middle East, The
Balkans, Ireland. What caused the slaughter in Rwanda? And now our country is full of anger.
This is something we can do for world peace right in our own corner.
And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us . . . (from the
Lord’s prayer—Matthew 6)
“For if you forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father also will forgive you; but
if you do not forgive men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.
Peter asked Jesus how many times he should forgive: Matthew 18: 15-35
Something I’ve done in the past and want to do more: Take communion by myself and
write down all the people with whom I have a misunderstanding and pray for them and ask if
there is anything I can do. Every situation is unique, and we must be guided by the Spirit.
Judging by Appearance
A little girl and her Daddy were in a crowded lift. As they were about to get out, a lady
turned around and smacked the Daddy full in the face! As he glared at the retreating woman, his
little girl said, “I don’t like that lady either, Daddy–that’s why I pinched her bottom when she
trod on my foot!”
Things can be so different from what they appear. No doubt many of us have suffered
from wrong judgments based on what appeared to be true. It is important to listen inwardly and
discern the true situation.
In the TV program, Murder She Wrote, circumstantial evidence points to guilt, but Jessica
Fletcher feels the person is innocent. She lets this lead her to the facts and the true situation.
There used to be a man, Uncle Arthur, who blew in from Wales from time to time to
speak to us at Beaches Chapel, Jacksonville Beach. No matter what his message, he always
managed to put in the importance of not judging. He wrote a book, Boomerang. Those wrong
judgments will come back to you. (The little girl story is from him.)” Judge not, that ye be not
judged.” (Matthew 7:1)
Jesus spoke of two kinds of judgment:
“Judge not according to appearance but judge righteous judgment” John 7:24.
Righteous judgment is the discernment you discern intuitively by the Spirit. It goes beyond
circumstantial evidence—what you see and hear. (Isaiah 11) If one’s intuitive feeling be correct,
it will lead to the right facts. Today there is so much jumping to judgment. It’s important to listen
—to reserve judgment–to see the whole picture—to pray for the right judgment. Otherwise, it’s
eating from The Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil—which was, and is, a tree of death.