About 30 years ago, May 21st, 1979 to be exact, I had a close encounter of a spiritual kind. I’ll never forget that night.

I was a young mother of a two-year-old daughter and we were visiting my parents in Michigan for a few days, far from our home in San Diego. My parents were, and still are, very devote Christians; and, they were noted prayer warriors in both their church and community. I, naturally, was raised to believe in the tenets of Protestant Christianity - Jesus was God’s only son. He died for our sins on the cross. He arose on Easter Sunday. He resides in Heaven at the right hand side of God Almighty. Jesus is to eventually come back for all righteous, believing Christians and take them to heaven. You know the story.

Well, this particular year Baptism of the Holy Spirit was all the rage with Oral Roberts as its main promoter. As a young Christian, I, of course, wanted it. I wanted it desperately! I knew that at my parent’s special prayer group that night I just might receive the blessing of the Baptism of the Holy Spirit. I showered, praying to be cleansed of all my past sins, so that I might be worthy of the Baptism.

My parent’s prayer group consisted of the most devote Christians in our community. All the various Christian churches were represented; and, I felt humbled to be amongst such great Christian leaders. One highly respected member of the group approached me at the meeting and rudely said, “I have a word of discernment for you”. (This is a practice in fundamentalist Christian groups where the Holy Spirit is said to speak a word of truth through a believer.) She continued, “You do not love Jesus, he is not lord of your life.”

At first I was shocked, and then hurt, by her words. Next I started to deny what she said, “No, you’re wrong. I do love Jesus; I’ve always loved Jesus. I’ve always tried to be a good Christian; Jesus is lord of my liiiifff .” Then, I realized she was right! I was lord of my life, not Jesus. I didn’t put Jesus first in my decisions, but myself. I felt so convicted! At that moment I fell on my knees, sobbing and covering my face. I thought,“I am a total hypocritical failure. How could God possibly love me? I wasn’t a Christian; I was a fraud!”

That seemed the lowest moment of my life. I now viewed my life quest, to be the perfect Christian, a complete and utter failure.

My mother and another older woman tried to comfort me, but nothing could console me.

Then I heard a man’s voice - “It’s been so hard for you to come to me”, he said. As I looked up to view him I did not see a man, but a brilliant white light. Suddenly an incredible peace, ‘the peace which passeth all understanding’ fell upon me. The great light was there only a few moments, but the peace I felt lasted over an hour. The best way I can describe it to you is that I felt as if I were a small child, sitting comfortably and happily on the lap of God. I told my mother, “I saw Jesus and he spoke to me”. “I know dear,” was her gentle response.

When at my parent’s home that evening, in my euphoric state, I called my girlfriend in San Diego to tell her what had happened. While talking to her I started to sing in ‘tongues’. To this day she still describes the beautiful sound, - “like an angel singing”.

After the phone call, while completely alone, I prayed to again communicate with Jesus. Suddenly, about 10ft. from me, I saw a vision. It wasn’t light and wonderful, but dark and ghastly - I saw Jesus being crucified on a cross!

“No, no I don’t understand!” “You have arisen.” “Why are you still suffering?” “Let me help you.” “Please let me take away your suffering.” “Give it to me!” I shouted.

Then, but for a split second, I felt a heavy weight come upon me - a heaviness, so horrific, that it defies any description.

“Take it off, take it off, I can’t take it,”I cried.

I couldn’t take it, not even for one second.

The vision dissolved away.

For 25 years I have pondered the meaning of that night. As a Christian I believed that Jesus was God and he was feeling all the sins of the world; and that, he still suffers as he carries those sins. I felt ashamed that I couldn’t bear any of his suffering.

A year later I discovered the writings of Ernest Holmes and Ramtha. They introduced me to the idea that we are all Christs.

Now I understand the suffering of Jesus, my brother’s suffering. He tried to help all understand their innate Christhood as he discovered it in himself. He even demonstrated that we could have power as the God, which we are, over death. His followers and later the Church changed the ‘truth’. They made him God and required that all must believe in him, that he covers our sins. No, we do pay for sin. What a lie! What fraud! This poor man has seen how millions of people have been killed in his name - 10 million in the crusades alone. He sees how people hurt each other, than simply say, “I’m sorry” to a priest, who then intercedes, “You’re forgiven.”

No! No! I have seen him suffer. A wonderful man is suffering because of lies and fraud. I will be an instrument of ‘truth’, the real ‘truth’ about Jesus. I will bring an end to his suffering. By writing of ‘truth’, I will help bring him down off the cross.