Holy Ghost Experience

I do not consider myself a religious person. For a time I watched Joyce Meyer on a daily basis; she was my church. Other times, I would find a local preacher that I could feel was anointed, and I would go to services until that particular church changed preachers. I can quote a few things from the bible, but to tell you what chapter and verse, I'd have to admit that I had no idea. I have gone through life taking whatever teachings from the many religious affiliations in this world and keeping what I felt in my heart to be right, and discarding what I didn't agree with. This is what has worked for me. And yet I pray frequently and believe that I have a personal relationship with God--I call the creator God because that's how I was raised, whatever you call the one supreme being of the universe is completely up to you and it makes no never mind what the name. I believe it is all the same; something of a Shakespearean attitude..."a rose by any other name...". In spite of this attitude, or maybe because of it, I consider myself non-religious, but very spiritual.

I have had many visions and experiences in my life, that maybe for some people, would have led them very deeply into religion. I prefer to skirt the edges and keep my spirituality in tact, undiluted by religious practices. I must add at this point, that I know some very religious people and they seem very happy and content being so. I wish them well and do not cut myself off from them. I do not try to dissuade them or offer up arguments for their beliefs. That is what works for them, this is what works for me. Glory be, lets get on with our association...

I have prefaced all of this in order to point out that one doesn't need to be the highest pillar of the church to have a Holy Ghost experience. I have had one, and I was stoned at the time. At the time that I had this experience, I was a full time stoner. I'm not proud of that particular fact, but it is the truth, and so I included it for reference as it will be relevant later on in the story...

I was in my first marriage, living in my beautiful one year old home. It was the first time I had come to be the only person there in the very late hours of the night. My husband was staying the night in a motel after being bailed out of jail for beating me severely; and my daughter was down at my aunt's, as I had her spirited away for safekeeping after the dust had settled from ex-hubby's arrest. I was alone, bruised, battered and beyond miserable. I had been smoking pot for hours.

I was also praying out loud and crying. I felt so low and bereft, that I asked God over and over again, "Why am I here? What is my purpose? I can't do this anymore, if you don't answer me I'm not sure I can go on..." I said this or something equating to this many times, begging God to make me understand how he could have told me to marry this man that was so completely horrible to me. (God did, but that's a story for another time... I digress...)

All of a sudden it happened. I felt my heart grow inside my chest like I have never felt before or since, nor did I even know was possible. The only description I can give someone who has not had a Holy Ghost experience is very juvenile, but here goes... I instantly pictured the scene in the original animated version of 'Dr Seuss' How the Grinch Stole Christmas' when they show the Grinch's heart growing three sizes. That is the closest description I've got. I felt it grow, just like that, and a peaceful calm took over my entire being.

In my head I heard... well actually I understood, there wasn't any real voice to it... "You will be a philanthropist." I started crying again, but this time they were tears of pure unadulterated joy. That, to me, was the coolest, most wonderful and fantastic purpose to have, ever! And if the peace, and the growing heart didn't convince me that this was the Holy Spirit, then one simple thing about the answer would; I would never have come up with it. That answer would not have occurred to me if I'd been given a million years on this Earth. And in that moment, I could see it; it made perfect sense. I was specifically designed for it, and I had no idea. So many things that drove me nuts about myself and my personality would serve me perfectly in fulfilling that one purpose. My purpose.

The joy spread out into my entire body, and I knew that I had to walk the house; every room in the dark, to clear it and know I was safe there. I got up from the couch and did it. No lights save what filtered in from the street. When I was finished, it had gone from being a house to being my home. I was forever after safe from harm there, and I knew it as surely as my body knows to breathe air. I understood deeply that when ex-hubby finally came home, it would be very different. The violence was over; completely and for good.

It had escaped my notice entirely that my body didn't hurt at all anymore. I went up and down the steps with measured calm determination, but no pain. For about two weeks after that, I was positively giddy. I went to lunch with my aunt when she brought my daughter home, and she accused me of being stoned. I laughed, because it was the one time that I wasn't. I hadn't touched a drug or drop of alcohol since that night. I had left it behind with the pain and didn't suffer a second of the usual 'come down' I normally experienced when I stopped smoking pot.

It has been over 5 years now. I'm still dirt poor, but I know that one day I won't be, because that promise was put into my heart. No one and nothing can undo that. But, I also know that God does things in his own timing, and ours is not to question why...

So I wait... and I believe...