In the early 70's there were a lot of stories
out about people going to Heaven and coming back and sharing what they saw. Most of them had died and had been brought back
to life after they had decided to repent of their nonbelieving ways, or being comforted of the passing of a saved loved one. I
had a hunger in my heart to know what Heaven was like and it reached out to God. He heard that cry and one day, I found myself
in Heaven in an experience very unlike any that we had heard about. I realise now that it was because I didn't need to be
impressed nor warned. I already knew and loved God.
I was riding on a galloping horse across
a beautiful springtime field full of wildflowers in the breeze and the sunny weather and beautiful blue sky. I saw
and felt the horse under me and the fields around me, beyond the horizons in all the directions I was able to see in. Then
I was pulled back and I saw myself as if I were looking at another person flying across that field. Then I was back home.
Whenever I tell about this incident, my hearers always
say that it was a white horse. But it wasn't. It was a Buckskin, my most favorite horse. It's one of the Indian ponies, along
with the Pinto(brown streaks on white),Paint(black streaks on white) and the Appalousa(solid color forequarters with
possible blaze and white socks with speckled rearquarters and white socks). God was telling me how important I was to Him,
enough to give me my heart's desire and to show me that my heritage is indeed, important enough to Him to emphasize it.
Another time, God had given me a message to give to a man
and He told me that this man was not going to accept what I told him. In one of my unselfish moments, I asked why we were
wasting God's time and mine.(I actually put God first)
His answer was to take me to Heaven, into the throneroom,
before the White Throne of Judgement. Before me, I saw the man in question, standing before God, Who was in the Throne. The
man actually had the arrogance to denounce God by saying that He had NEVER sent any messengers to him to warn him. Then
a screen came down before him, suspended in midair with no apparent means of support. On it came a series of witnesses warning
this man of his ways. Then I saw myself on that screen giving my message to this man.
Then I understood clearly, the emphasis that was
set upon the orders, that came from God. My job was to do what God had sent me to do, whether anyone obeyed the word
I had sent them. My primary responsibility is to dispense the Word that God has sent me to give, to participate in His divine
purposes, not to pursuade others to obey that word. That is the function of the Holy Spirit. I'm just the maillady. It's not
my job to get the recipients to open the mail, nor to pay the bills within. It is my job to do to the best that I can, to
be faithful to what God has sent me to do, regardless of what others may say or think.
So I delivered the message and it was not received.
"...As the Lord, the God of Israel lives, before Whom I
stand... 1Kings 17:1
"Son of man, I have appointed you a watchman to the house
of Israel; whenever you hear a word from My mouth, warn them from Me." Ezekiel 3:17
"Now, as for you, son of man, I have appointed you a watchman
for the house of Israel; so you will hear a message from My mouth and give them warning from Me." Ezekiel 33:7.
My biological grandmother died in her house in the mid
70'. She took 2 days dying in her house of liver failure. I was the last family member to see her alive. After she died the
family made a bonfire of her huge library of witchcraft and the occult.
I was her favorite grandchild and she had tried to groom
me to follow in her footsteps. I was of the generation that was supposed to recommit my family line to witchcraft and I was
the one who was supposed to do that, since I was the firstborn. Instead, I decided for Jesus when I was 4.
In the late 80' and early 90's both of my fostergrandmothers
died of cancer. Then in the mid-late 90's the mother of one of our friends, with her husband were on their way home from teaching
Sunday School. They were hit by a drunken driver and she was instantly killed at the scene. The family went to the hospital
room of the young man who killed her, and they forgave them. In so doing, the young man and his family rededicated
their lives to Christ, since they had been backslidden.
A while after this point, I found myself back in Heaven
and witnessed the scene that is shown in a painting on this page.
The woman in the left-front was the mother of our friend.
The two from the left were my foster grandmothers. The middle one, even though she spent her entire life in church and
working in the church, married to two godly men and was the mother of her pastor, she didn't give her heart to God until on
her deathbed. The one on the right was my biological grandmother, whom everyone in my family said went to hell after
she spent two days dying in her house.
Since this incident, God has shown me how my influence
had brought her to Him, while she was taking me to all of her psychic seminars and trying to draw me in her direction, her
love and pride for me was drawing her to the LOVE of my life, even though I had no clue. I just loved her as the special person
that she was in my life, refused to receive what she tried to get me to take and yet participated in whatever she took me
to because I loved her.
This is not the end of the story on this one. This is the
experience that keeps on giving. In the mid 90's, I was back in school, again. In one of my painting classes, the teacher
had given us an interperative assignment, where we were to paint three panels, each representing-1-Money-mine was a hammer,because
it was the easiest tool to paint-2-Love-hands holding, because without friendship and companionship love is unsustainable-3-Death-I
asked God what could I possibly do for this one since my perspective is so opposite the expected. He reminded me of my visit
with my dancing grandmas, so from this was born a mini cottage nonindustry. The teacher found that painting amazing, and I
got to tell him about my grandmas and my visit to Heaven.
I have painted many of these since then and have given
them away, mainly to those whom have lost someone or to minister to them. Most of them have been a version of the rendition
that you see here. But several of them have also been custom made for the individual situation, either in size or in the setting
that the grandmas have been set into. One was painted into a triptych(3 panel piece). The one on this page was the one
we kept from the 2004 edition. I think I painted 5 of them. The last one I painted was a custom designed one, for
an individual, in 2008.
There are other trips I've taken to Heaven. But these are
the three that really struck me the most and it seems to me have the most instructional significance attached to them.
