vjera_ufanje_i_ljubav

petak, 16.03.2007.

Evo nesto na engleskom pa vecina zna engleski a meni se ne prevodi ...

ovo sam slucajno nasao i ako se nekome da prevesti neka izvoli i posalje na e-mail DOBRO JE ..


THE ZAPPED PSYCHOLOGIST

My blog is to be about: How my life became more interesting after the Holy Spirit came in power. This is my first post.
THE PSYCHOLOGIST ON THE FLOOR

I am laying on the floor of a little store front church proclaiming "I love you Jesus!!!" and laughing uproariously. My life was changing forever.

What was a psychology professor doing on the floor in the first place?

In August 1980, my son dragged me to a storefront church. Although reluctant, what can you do when all four of your children challenge you with "What are you afraid of, Mr. Psychologist?"

I needed to know what they were getting in to.

Surprised, I was impressed when the young preacher spoke with an authority.

The following Wednesday night, I showed up, startled to find only the pastor, the piano player and me.

Catching me off guard, the minister inquired, "Have you ever received the Baptism of the Holy Spirit?"

As a seeker after spiritual experiences, I was interested. Earlier, as a Baptist minister, I had led the singing at revivals that had gone wild. I once gave an invitation to which an entire church responded by rededicating themselves. Scared the fool out of me.

I had seen some amazing things, but the only thing I knew about what they called the Baptism of the Holy Spirit was that it had something to do with speaking in tongues. As kids, we had peeked through the windows at the crazy goings on in the local Pentecostal churches. But they were on the other side of the tracks.

Still, I had always been a high risk person when it came to spiritual things and that night I said to myself, O.K. you’ve danced with the Sufis, chanted with the Yogis, beat drums with the Baktis, so what the heck.

I blurted out: "Well I want everything God has to give. I don’t want to miss anything."

Then the young man said "O.K.. do what I do." He began saying words of praise to God. I did what he did. All at once he said, "Now, no more words in English." Pointing to my chest, he said, "Praise Him from there." He began to make strange sounds.

One of the many meditations I had tried in the past, involved hours listening to various sounds deep within me. The Hindus teach that these are the sounds of the Chakras, energy centers of the body. Following his instructions, I focused on the region he pointed to. There were sounds! Not like his, but sounds. So I spoke the sounds I was hearing.

Along with the sounds bubbling up, came the most joyous sensations. I could have kept going all night. Getting restless though, the young man finally said, "Hey, you can do this at home."

For the next few days, I just went with the sounds. They gushed up like I had tapped an oil well.

When I returned to the gathering the next week, there was a leader with a guitar strung over his shoulder. While he talked, I was preoccupied with an inner conversation with God. Suddenly the man stopped, pointed at me and began to reveal the exact dialogue I was having between myself and God. Then he gave me God’s response to the question I had been requesting.

My mind began spinning. How did he read my mind?

Then, inviting me to come to him, he lightly touched my forehead.
And that is when this psychologist discovered himself on the floor.

I had no idea how I got there. I could hear myself calling out: "I love you Jesus!" Then I laughed uproariously because I also had this thought of some colleague walking by and looking through that storefront window. It did not happen; yet what a hoot!

But that was just the beginning. The leader said, "Get him off the floor and bring him up here. Brother the power of God is all over you. Lay your hands on these people!"

At that moment a energy poured through me. I felt like what Popeye demonstrated when he downed his can of spinach and his fists turned into power drivers.

Barely touching people, sometimes just pointing at them, I watch them go down like bowling balls. My knees began to buckle from the surges, and then I felt my wonderful wife, arms wrapped around me, holding me up.

Finally, overcome from all the excitement, I had to sit down.

At that point, my rational mind kicked back in. "What is this? Suggestion? Maybe, hyperventilation?" As a psychologist, I had studied and practiced hypnosis. "Is this all this is?"

As I sat there, I looked down beside my chair at a young man who had crashed face down on the floor. The scientist came out in me. The man started to get up, at first on all fours.

Making sure he could not see what I was doing, I sneakily put my hand about a foot above his back. If he could not see what I was doing, then it wasn’t hypnosis.

Ka Bam! He slammed to the floor as power shot through me again. He tried n to rise and I sneaked my hand above him again. He was pinned to the floor as if an elephant had his foot on him.

This was not hypnosis!

Days followed with many thrilling experiences. We laid hands on a woman who had congenital heart disease from birth, and she was healed. A few sundays later, a group of us laid hands on a man with prostate cancer. He was healed and the healing was certified by his Urologist.

I began to notice changes in me. I could not get enough of reading the Bible. I would lock myself in my office and read for hours.

Like many people, I had suffered from what I called the Paranoia of the Father. I just did not trust Him. Either He was going to get mad at me and hurt me, or if I was enjoying something, He would take it away to keep me from having any fun, or on the other hand, He would love me and send me off to die in Africa just to prove myself. Whatever, God was scary.

I woke up one morning and the Paranoia was gone. Shortly thereafter I was riding down Poplar Grove Rd. in Boone, NC, right past the Winn Dixie. Suddenly I was lifted into another level of consciousness. There was this incredible sense that God had stopped taking care of the Universe and was now focused only on me. I was all that existed in His attention. No one else. Nothing else. Now words begin to fail. But Love was communicating, " Donald has come home. All of Heaven stopped to listen. "Donald I love you. Nothing that you have ever done, are doing, or ever will do, will make any difference to Me." From that day on, I have never been without that sense of His love and His presence.

Over the years, I have discovered in the writings of the great mystics, that others had this experience of a moment of God’s total focus. Mystics are defined as people who have a direct tangible experience of God.

In Living Flame of Love, the great Spanish mystic St. John of the Cross wrote: "For the soul now feels God to be so solicitous in granting it favors and to be magnifying with such precious and delicate words, and granting it favour upon favour, that it believes that there is no other soul in the world whom He thus favours, nor ought else wherewith He occupies Himself, but that He is wholly for itself alone" p81

The great English mystic, Julian of Norwich in Revelation of Love wrote: "It is God’s will that I see myself so bound to him by love as if he had done all his deeds just for me." p145

One of the phrases God implanted in her heart went as follows: "All shall be well, All shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well. This was said so tenderly, without blame of any kind toward me" p55

Julian understood her experience in much the same way as I do. Also, like me, her experience remained with her forever.

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