The Spiritual Journey of Embrosewyn Tazkuvel

It is with reluctance that I now write about some of the most special and private parts of my life that heretofore I have shared with very few people. However, with the publication of the Revelation Bible on the Internet, it has led to quite a hullabaloo and a subsequent vilification by some zealots of various religions to discredit the book by finding fault with the messenger.

In writing this abbreviated history of my spiritual journey I know I will just be handing additional ammunition to those who seek to defame the Revelation Bible by disparaging me. But it is better for the true story of my spiritual life to be available for inquiring people to read, than to only have the false assertions and innuendos of misguided antagonists to draw upon.

People seem to want to know how I could have the audacity to even claim to be a Prophet, and by what right I would make such a declaration. It is not a title I have bestowed upon myself and one I have been very reluctant to wear. As I said in the introduction to Nexus, “I have held back these many years for feeling unworthy and incapable of fulfilling all that has been asked of me; for I am not qualified by any criteria, save the all-knowing wisdom of God. I am not a theologian, nor do I have a collection of academic degrees. My life has been one of challenge, both in succeeding as the world counts success, and in overcoming my own inadequacies.”

Yet I have been called by the voice and power of God to this calling, and I can hide from it no more. But let me state clearly and emphatically that I am giving this personal history only that there may be an end to talk about Embroswyn.

The purpose of my calling has nothing to do with me. The revelations I write are only for the glory of God and the edification of the Children of Light, wherever they may be. I do not intend or desire to become a public figure. I am merely the scribe, the messenger and should be forgotten.

It is the Revelation Bible, which stands on its own, that should be talked about and understood. In it is the fullness of the life and teachings of Yeshua of Nazareth, which can lift you to a place of light beyond what you may have imagined, if you read it with an open mind, a sincere heart, and a true intent to discover the light.

Therefore, let what follows be an end to the discussion of Embroswyn. It is my humble prayer that hereafter you will prefer to invest your time in reading the Revelation Bible to discover the many gems and treasures of life and eternity that await you.

Habits of Youth

From the earliest days of childhood and into my youth and later adulthood, I loved spending time alone in nature. I felt one with everything around me and far beyond, out into the universe.

I also enjoyed the company of people and was not by any means shy, but I always gained great fulfillment and personal growth while spending time alone among the creations of God.

When I would be absent from church on Sundays because of an exploration in the woods, or mountains, or beach, I would tell people I had been busy worshipping in God’s cathedral. I came to know the majesty of God and the uniqueness of myself in many ways during the countless hours I delighted alone in nature.

From as far back as I can remember, I had the ability to see auras. To me it was a normal thing to see colors surrounding a person. In my early years of elementary school I remember seeing auras around some of my friend’s heads and I assumed everybody saw them, but found out otherwise when I asked my mother what the colored lights around peoples heads were and she told me I had a good imagination and there were no such things.

In fact, I never met another person who openly spoke of seeing auras until I was in my late 20’s, and then what they described was not even similar to what I saw. Even when I was in elementary school, inquiries with my friends confirmed that nobody else saw these interesting, continually changing lights. I didn’t want to be thought of as weird or crazy so I tried to just suppress what I saw. If I looked at someone and saw an aura, I would look away. And I learned to NEVER tell anyone that I could see auras.

However as the years passed my curiosity got the better of me. In middle school I became very interested in science and purposefully began to observe the auras around people and made mental notes of how their exhibited behavior, mood or health corresponded to what I saw in their auric field.

By the end of middle school I could easily see full body auric fields extending about an arms length from all parts of someone’s body and had a good idea what the various colors, intensities, opacities and other variations indicated. The field was always most intense around the head and that was generally the area of my observations.

In high school I again began to have pangs of conscience about secretly looking at people’s auras, as if I was somehow intruding upon their privacy, because seeing their aura gave me a fairly reliable understanding of their true emotional, spiritual or state of health, despite what their outward appearance and words might have indicated to the contrary. If they were choosing to present a false image of themselves to people, what right did I have to be secretly looking at the truth without their permission?

Throughout high school I had a love/hate relationship with my ability to see auras because of my doubts about the propriety in observing people’s auras without their knowledge. I would sometimes go for months purposely avoiding looking at people’s auras, then switch and for several months be fascinated observing them, ever seeking to further understand how what I saw in their auras correlated to what I observed in their words, actions and emotional states.

One of the things I enjoyed doing was observing the energy connections between two individuals, especially those who were romantically involved. Did they connect with their hearts, their minds, their sexual areas? There are seven major energy centers in the human body and it was always interesting to see which ones, how many, and how strong, people connected to each other.

My spiritual upbringing during elementary school was mellow, non-denominational Christian. My father was in the Navy and we attended the non-denominational Navy chapel on Sundays when I was in elementary school. Other than on Sundays, I didn’t think much about religion.

In high school, my best friend was the son of a retired minister, and I started attending his non-denominational community church on Sundays. There was a great group of teenagers at the church and during 10^th and 11^th grade this became my peer group. We started a musical group where I played the guitar, and they even cut an album shortly after I moved out of the country.

Attending the Community Church also gave me my first exposure to missionary work as we would go out on Saturdays, Sundays and after school to give surveys to random people. Our favorite proselytizing area was the beach in the summer. Working in pairs, we would walk up to someone sunning on the beach and introduce ourselves. We were non-threatening as we were just teenagers from a local church giving a survey. We would ask what faith and denomination they were and a few other questions which led up to the big question at the end, which was, “If you were to die today and stand before God and he were to ask, ‘why should I let you into my heaven’, what would you say?”

We would always get the same two answers depending upon whether someone was Protestant or Catholic. If they were Protestant, they would have some variation of having accepted Christ as their Savior and having lived a good life. If they were Catholic, they would just say because they were Catholic, or because they had been a good Catholic.

Although I was strongly encouraged by my peers and the youth minister to openly accept Christ as my Savior, I never felt moved to do so, as I never felt a deep connection in my heart to the person that was described as the Savior. I tried. I prayed and fasted and read and sought, but never was able to make that connection.

Retrospectively, I think there were four things that held me back. The first was the results of another survey that I had not participated in, but had the opportunity to read. This was an anonymous survey of divinity students preparing to graduate from the various Protestant seminaries around the country. I was shocked by the answers to these questions.

-Do you believe that Jesus Christ will physically return to the earth someday? 74% No.

-If your personal beliefs contrast with the beliefs of your church, will you teach your personal beliefs to your congregation? 85% No.

If the future ministers, who knew far more than I did, had so little faith in basic Christian teachings, why should I?

The second thing that prevented me from taking the big step was the great cloudiness I had reading the Bible. By my junior year I had read the Old Testament once, and the New Testament twice, in its entirety, and many times for key passages. Numerous parts seemed either contradictory, made no sense, or simply could not be understood based upon standard Christian beliefs.

Whenever I had a question about any verses, I would put a little question mark in the margin near the verse and ask my minister and other theologians in my local church about the verses the next time I saw them. I probably asked questions concerning at least 30 sections of the Bible. In every instance I was given one of three unacceptable answers.

-“It’s a mystery and it is not intended for us to know.” (Then why is it written in there for us to read, I wondered?)

-Or, I would be given an explanation by the minister/theologian that made no sense.

-Or the minister/theologian would tell me they didn’t understand that part either.

I simply could not put my trust and faith in a belief system I could not fully understand.

The third thing was the results of another anonymous survey. This one was given to members of various Christian denominations, including Catholics and Protestants. First the written beliefs of each denomination were analyzed. Then questions were posed to determine whether people believed the written tenets of their respective religions without identifying which beliefs belonged to which denomination. 94% of the people from every denomination that were surveyed did not understand or believe at least 70% of their own faiths written tenets.

This gave me no confidence in a Christian’s ability to discern truth from error, and I was absolutely flabbergasted that devout people could be following religions that they did not understand or believe the basic tenets of.

Yet I continued to feel a powerful pull in my heart to be a religious and upright person. Through high school and into adulthood I barely tried a sip of alcohol, and I never took a puff or a chew on a tobacco product. I never tried marijuana or any other mind or mood altering drug even once, despite the fact that both of my parents smoked and drank, and most of my friends, including many from church, drank and used all types of drugs frequently. I just never had the inclination, and even held my breath around any kind of smoke. My friends were cool and never pressured me or gave me a bad time about it, even on days after school when we would all go to the park, sit in a circle and pass a joint around. When it got near me I held my breath, and just passed it on to the next person in the circle.

I speak of these things not to position myself as “holier than thou”, but to propose that many of the unusual gifts I later manifested were only possible because I never used any type of mind or mood altering drugs.

The fourth thing that prevented me from becoming a bona fide Christian at that time of my life, was an astounding experience when I was 16 years old. Without giving the details of this very personal experience, I will say I was meditating and praying alone, in the brightness of midday when I experienced a direct connection to a sweet energy of Light which I knew to be from God, and felt through it, a connection to all religions - not just Christianity.

It filled me to the point that I felt weightless in my body. Although I neither spoke, nor was audibly spoken to, my mind suddenly became full of knowledge and images racing through at a breathless pace, showing me so many events in my life and the world in the years to come; and a voice in my mind speaking of the things which would come to pass. The entire experience probably lasted no more than a minute, but it seemed like hours. I found my mind swimming with knowledge and understanding that would have taken years and years to normally absorb.

In retrospect, the most amazing thing is that many of the things I saw have come to pass, exactly as I saw it. There are other things that are yet to come.

Preface Note: The following chapters describe some of my experiences with the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (most often called Mormons or LDS). Although I know their church is not the "true" church they proclaim it to be, it does have far more truth in it than many other religious faiths. My experiences there contributed significantly to the spiritual foundation that needed to be laid in my life before I was fully prepared to fulfill my mission in life.

A couple of years later when I first learned of the Mormon Church, I think one of the things that attracted me was that their founder, Joseph Smith had recounted having similar experiences, which also occurred when he was a teenager.

Before my senior year, my family moved to Spain and I attended my last year of high school there at a small American school. Our graduating class was only about 50 people. I quickly became one of the Christian crowd, both at and away from school.

New girls were few and far between, especially good looking girls, so when this beautiful girl with a dreamy southern accent showed up one day, I soon got up the nerve to go over and ask her if she might like to go to the beach. She thanked me sweetly, but told me she was a Mormon, and only dated Mormons. I laughed, and told her I thought that might be a problem, as I was sure she was the only Mormon in school.

After no contact other than a “hi” passing in the hall, I never spoke at length with her again until one Sunday some months later on a quiet beach. I had gone for a walk on a secluded section of beach near our house and found her all by herself, sitting on a rock, reading. I couldn’t pass up the opportunity, so I went over and we ended up talking about religion for a couple of hours.

By this time I knew the Bible pretty well and she was unable to refute any of the points I brought up countering her Mormon beliefs. But she bore a powerful and sincere testimony of her beliefs. She encouraged me to speak with her mother about my theological questions, as she was more knowledgeable. I loved talking about religion and this would give me the opportunity to see her some more as well, so how could I say ‘no’?

Her mother was very knowledgeable indeed. I had not met anyone previously from any faith, including ministers, who understood the scriptural foundations of their own faith so well.

After a couple of lengthy meetings she asked me to take the missionary discussions. She had taught me so well I asked the missionaries to just skip the discussions and ask me questions about their faith. If I lacked knowledge in any area they could fill me in. There were few things that needed filling in.

One day at the end of my discussions with the missionaries they asked if I had any other questions. Thinking about all the question marks written in the margins of my Bible that nobody had ever been able to adequately answer, I kind of laughed and told them I had lots of questions but was sure there were none they could answer.

They feigned being offended and asked to at least give them a try. So I started with my first question mark and after about three hours we had gone through each one. To my amazement, they were able to answer almost every one in a way that made sense if taken in the context of Mormon theology. Just a couple of examples:

-“What is meant by 1 Cor. 15:29 “Else what shall they do which are baptized for the dead…?” A. Mormons believe in Baptism for the Dead.

-“What is meant by 2 Cor. 12:2 “…such a one was caught up to the third heaven?” A. Mormons believe in three levels of heaven.

After all this I wanted to be baptized in the LDS faith. I felt a resonance with them, as well as an excitement to finally get answers that made sense to the question marks in the margins of my Bible. But it was not to be easy. The missionaries told me that usually when someone wants to be baptized they do it. But in my case, they felt after prayer, that I needed a greater testimony.

This was bringing me back to the same problem I had with my non-denominational Christian church: I wanted to be associated with them, but just did not feel what they wanted me to feel.

In the case of the Latter-day Saints, I really wanted to feel it, so I would read the book of Mormon and the Bible each night from 8:00 to midnight. Then I would go out to the cliffs by my house overlooking the ocean and pray for 15-20 minutes asking to clearly see the path I was meant to walk, to know the truth I was meant to know, to know if I should join the LDS church at this time.

Every day the missionaries would stop by to see if I had my testimony yet. Each day I would tell them I was ready to be baptized, that I had scads of wonderful, warm fuzzy feelings praying on the cliffs above the ocean, but nothing I could say with conviction that “I knew”, and not just believed.

This went on for 2 weeks and everyone from other members, to the Branch President, and especially me, felt it was getting ridiculous. “Just baptize me and let’s get going”, I thought. But the missionaries were adamant. They said they had never felt more powerfully moved in their prayers, that I could not be baptized unless I KNEW.

I asked them if they KNEW and they both admitted they believed with all their hearts, but never had anything hit them like a sledge hammer that they could say in all truthfulness that they KNEW.

That night I again did my ritual, almost in exasperation. I read for 4 hours, then I went out to the cliffs alone to pray. On this particular night there was a brilliant full moon and it was so bright it almost didn’t seem like night. I could hear the waves rolling ashore below me and see the moonlight reflecting off their tops.

I knelt down to pray and no sooner had the first words left my lips than my spirit separated from my body and rose up to hover about 30 feet above the ground, and a couple of hundred feet above the ocean below the cliff, gazing down on my physical body. My spirit looked around and felt a connection to everything on the Earth and to the vastness of the universe beyond.

My spirit all too soon dropped gently back into my body. There had been no physical sensation of separation or of rejoining, but a feeling of amazing euphoria swept through every fiber of my being that was like an energy tsunami. It was simply, incredible!

This was the knowing I had been seeking. It was not a knowing that the LDS church was THE true church, which is what the missionaries wanted me to discover. But it was a knowing that joining that church was the right thing for me to do at that time. I knew that like the other Christian churches, it too had shortcomings and errors. But I also knew that I would learn and grow in many ways I needed to from association with the Mormons.

For the first several months after my baptism, I shared my experience on the cliff with many LDS members, including recounting it at the Fast & Testimony meetings, for it had been profoundly exciting for me. I naively assumed that such things were common occurrences with other members of the church, at least during very special moments in their lives. But I soon came to realize that nobody else had ever had an experience like that; and with a smile of tolerance for the enthusiasm of a new member, many people thought I was a little daft. So, as I learned to do in my youth with my ability to see auras, I just stopped sharing my experience with anyone.

After I had been in the LDS church for about 2 years, I was still surprised to never have heard or read of another person having a similar experience, where their spirit separated and lifted above their body. As real as the experience had been to me at the time, I began to wonder if perhaps in my great desire to KNOW, I had just imagined it. To gain some insight into whether my experience had been real or imagined I inquired of God.

One of my favorite ways to get answers to questions was to ask to be guided to a scripture that would give me an answer. I had a book of scriptures called a “Quad” in LDS circles. One book contained the Bible, Book of Mormon, Doctrine & Covenants and Pearl of Great Price, which are the 4 books of “scripture” used by the Latter-day Saints. Having all four books in one made it very convenient to seek answers by asking to be led to a scripture.

Following my usual method, after a prayer asking for an answer, I would close my eyes and open the scriptures to whatever page tended to want to open. With my eyes still closed I would then put my finger on the page. Opening my eyes, I would look at the verse my finger rested on knowing here was the answer to my question.

I followed this method in seeking verification of my separating and lifting spirit experience, which no other person in the LDS church seemed to have ever had. Saying a prayer and opening the Quad, my finger fell upon Alma 29:16 in the Book of Mormon, where the Prophet Alma said, “Now, when I think of the success of these my brethren my soul is carried away, even to the separation of it from my body, as it were, so great is my joy.”

During my senior year of High School in Spain we lived near some cliffs overlooking the ocean, made entirely of clay, which were about 150-200 feet tall. The upper two thirds of the cliff was nearly vertical and the lower third, a thick talus slope of little clay balls that had dried and fallen down from the cliff. If you tried walking on the talus you would sink up to your calf in the dried clay balls.

There was one particular section of the one mile long cliff, locally called Assburn Hill, where the top was uniformly flat, with no trees or significant vegetation. This allowed the very brave, or very stupid, to get up a head of steam and run full blast off the edge of the cliff, then fly through the air for 100 feet or more, landing in the talus slope below. A jumper needed to hit the talus slope with a perfect 5 point landing to not get hurt; both hands, both feet and the jumpers bottom all had to hit at the same moment. If done correctly, the jumper would then slide very fast, but safely, down to the bottom of the hill. This caused a lot of friction on the posterior, hence the name of the hill. If a jumper landed with anything less than all 5 points they would often go head over heels and end up injured. Feeling my athletic oats at 17, I was one of the brave/stupid people who made this jump. I ended up doing it several times over a period of days. I can unequivocally say it was the most exhilarating thing I have ever done, especially as it became an unforgettable spiritual experience.

The first jump was the most difficult. The main cliff face was hard clay. Hitting it would be like hitting concrete. As the cliff was not exactly vertical, the top edge of the talus safety zone at the bottom of the cliff actually was about 15 feet away horizontally from the top edge of the cliff where a jumper flew out into empty space. If a jumper didn’t travel 15 feet horizontally during their descent from the top of the cliff, they would not land in the talus slope, but would first make contact with the hard clay cliff, which would inevitably cause them to bounce and twist, sometimes even spinning and flipping before they hit the talus slope on their second bounce. I had seen and heard of some very bad accidents.

I could jump over 15 feet in the long jump, so I figured I should be able to easily make the talus with the added horizontal distance gained during the vertical fall. But understanding that point of physics did little to qualm my trepidation as I looked over the edge to the bottom of the cliff 200 feet below and the top of the talus slope that looked so far down and so far away horizontally. It sure seemed a lot further than 15 feet.

I thought a lot about whether I really wanted to make the attempt, because with Assburn Hill there were no second chances; no practice runs. You either succeeded or you failed, and if you failed, it was inevitably very painful.

I came to the precipice, to look over the edge of the cliff at the talus slope far below everyday for about a week, trying to convince myself that I could do this. Every time, I instead convinced myself that it was too risky, with nothing to be gained for success, and a great deal that might be potentially lost in failure. And the record of success was not good with others. Only about 2 out of 10 of the people who attempted the jump made it to the talus slope. Even great long jumpers failed. There is just something very intimidating about running and jumping off of a cliff without a parachute, when the only thing you can see below you is the ocean stretching into the distance. I think people would speed toward the edge of the cliff thinking they had the needed courage, but inside they were still shaking with fear, which prevented them from exerting their full athletic power to propel them as far as possible into space and reaching the talus slope.

At last, I concluded that the risk was too great and the reward non-existent. But that night when I knelt down to say my nightly prayer, something wonderful happened. I was praying about my future, for I was considering which college to attend, when suddenly I was interrupted by a vision. I saw my self leaping into space off the top of Assburn Hill. It was a beautiful, sunny day. The ocean was so blue. I heard a voice in my mind say, “Do not lose the expansion of spirit you can gain for failure to make the attempt.” It seemed like I was flying with my arms outstretched and not falling at all. It seemed as if I was in the air for minutes not seconds, as I looked around at people on the beach below and saw a falcon flying near. Finally I began to fall through space and it too seemed to take a long time. Then I softly landed in the talus quite far down the slope, and slid safely to the bottom. In my heart, there was a feeling, even in the vision, that having done that, I could do anything.

I finished my prayer with a feeling of euphoria and I knew with firm resolution, that when the sun rose high in the sky on the following day, I would conquer Assburn Hill.

True to my vision, I went alone to Assburn Hill the next day. There was no fear in my heart; none at all. I KNEW I would succeed and I knew something great would come into my life because of it. I even brought a photographer friend and placed him at the top of the talus slope below the rim of the cliff to record my leap, so I could always remember it.

I raced across the flat top and launching myself from the very edge of the cliff I flew out into the emptiness, unfettered by the bonds of the earth. And I flew; so it seemed to me. I stretched out my arms and reveled in the wind of my flight passing through my hair and upon my face. At the apex of my jump I looked around and saw people on the beach below, sailboats out on the ocean and birds flying near. And then I dropped down as gravity pulled me back to Earth. As I looked down to see where I would land I was astounded at how far I had jumped, for I was going to make first contact far down the talus slope.

Another incident that happened to me in my Senior year in Spain also greatly contributed to my deep-seated belief in God and a few years later would play a crucial role in my life.

In my teens I studied both Karate and Judo, and from those martial arts I learned of the Chi or Ki Force, a power that dwells within everyone, that in moments of great need, could call up exceptional strength and speed. Some karate masters invest a significant amount of their time working to be able to call the Ki Force on demand. Though I was far from being a Karate master, I had practiced being able to call the power of this force from within. I practiced many hours for a few years without success, until shortly after my vision from God at 16, when I finally realized success and it took only a moment of intensely focused thought and desire.

The Ki power coursed through my body and I felt like the Incredible Hulk. I wasn’t any bigger or uglier, but I was certainly stronger for just a minute. But the time seemed much longer because all of my senses became very heightened, and my brain seemed to work at super speed. This actually had the effect of making everything around me seem to be going in slow motion. As this came so shortly after my life vision, I felt certain that it was a gift from God.

A few months after that experience, after having practiced it successfully a few more times, I was free climbing a section of the same cliff that Assburn Hill was a part of, but this section was only about 50 feet high. It was also flat on the top and I had just curled my hands over the lip of the top and was pulling myself up, I was almost there, my belly button was touching the cliff lip and I was preparing to swing my leg up, when the edge of the cliff where I was holding my weight gave way and I flipped over backwards in the air, falling towards the rock strewn beach below.

Without thinking I instinctively called in the Ki Force and just as quickly everything seemed to go in slow motion; literally. I looked down and saw a big rock directly below, sticking up from the sand about a foot. I thought about hitting and rolling as I had been taught in Judo, but instead, with the Ki Force coursing through me, I landed astride the rock, with a foot on either side. My legs absorbed the impact like springs. My bottom impacted the rounded rock, but not sharply, and I ended up in a sitting position on the rock, once again thanking God that I was, not only alive, but unscathed.

Another thing that I learned in karate was how to use my mind to control my body. As I spent endless hours during my youth walking alone in the woods and mountains and along the beaches, I had a lot of time to practice these techniques. They came in quite handy on two occasions.

The first was in my freshman year of college. A couple of years earlier I had trained myself to regurgitate a mouthful of food upon the command of my mind. I know that sounds really gross, but I ended up making a tidy sum making wagers with people who didn’t know I had that ability. In my late 20’s I learned to refine it so if I ate something with a high fat content like a piece of fatty meat (this was before I became a vegetarian), I could after a few minutes of digestion, call up just the fat. And no, this was not a sign of anorexia or bulimia. I have never been concerned about my weight. I mention this ability despite its grossness, because I do feel in a strange way it is a spiritual gift, as it demonstrates the ability of the mind, which I believe is a integral part of the spirit, to have dominion over the physical body of this life.

The other major use of this ability came when I desired to get out of the Coast Guard earlier than my contracted enlistment time. I had foolishly joined when I was in my late teens and couldn’t find a regular job. I knew on the first day of boot camp that the military wasn’t for me, and nothing that happened in the following months gave me any reason to change my mind.

After boot camp I was sent to school at Governors Island in New York, right off of the tip of Manhattan. I was rooming on base with a man named Dan whom I had met on the plane going to boot camp, and we were subsequently sent together to Governors Island for further training.

On the day I made my decision, I came into our room and announced it to Dan. He got a great kick out of it and laughed himself silly, telling me there was no way I could get out early with an honorable discharge. I told him, “Watch me.”

The next day I went to the infirmary and complained of illness due to having to breathe cigarette smoke from all the smokers, especially in the chow hall. Now this wasn’t a great stretch as I had always hated to breathe second hand smoke and it did irritate my eyes and throat, and if I did not use the power of my aura to create a protective shield around my body, having to breathe that much smoke would actually make me nauseated. This was back in the mid 70’s when smoking was still freely permitted and common in both the workplace and any public place.

The doctor told me there wasn’t much he could do and I would get used to it. I could see he needed some more evidence. The next five dinners in a row, I used my ability to call up the contents of my stomach on command of my mind and made sure I made a mess of it in the chow hall. I went back to the Coast Guard doctor with my new symptoms and they were strange enough that he decided to run some tests.

This was where I really got to have some fun. For the next 30 days I was subject to all kinds of tests and whenever possible I skewered them by commanding my body to do inexplicable things. The two that come most readily to my memory are my blood pressure and hearing tests.

For blood pressure they had the standard wrap around the upper arm, blow up with air, blood pressure tester. There was a tube filled with mercury on the wall that showed the numbers, which served my purposes well because I could see exactly what was happening. At various stages of the testing I just shut my blood pressure off. I simply commanded my pulse to cease. The technician was very confused. He thought his machine was malfunctioning so he ran the test again; same results. Then he thought I might be unconsciously affecting it by clenching my muscles or pressing my arm against my body, so he had me stretch my arms diagonally out in front of me on a table, and also had me stretch out my legs just to insure I couldn’t be using any physical actions to impede my blood flow. It didn’t matter. “I think you are a walking corpse”, he said. “You have no blood pressure.”

I just smiled and said, “Well, I guess that is something the doctor would be interested in knowing about.”

Later, they tested my hearing on one of the standard machines that make very quiet little sounds. You are supposed to raise your hand when you hear a sound and raise it with either the right or left hand, depending upon which ear the sound was heard in.

As I knew that the technician knew exactly when the sounds were being made, I figured it would be a simple matter to tune into his aura and know when a sound was being made even if I couldn’t hear it. It worked perfectly. I was tested twice to make sure they hadn’t made an error as I was able (to the techs understanding) to hear every sound the machine made.

That was so unusual that they had me go off island the next week to a clinic that had a super machine with a far greater range of sounds. Once again, I tuned into the technician who was out of my range of sight. Auras can be sensed and felt as well as seen and once again it was easy to know when a sound was being generated. Even though I heard only the first dozen or so, I continued to raise my hand every time the techs psychic signals indicated a sound was being made. When the test was done he told me the results were impossible.

The end result of all this effort was good for me, as I was given an honorable discharge for medical reasons after just 6 months in the Coast Guard. Their diagnosis for discharge was surprisingly accurate “pshychophysiological reaction to cigarette smoke”. In other words, my brain was making my body react in physical ways, which in essence was a correct diagnosis. They told me if I waited another 30 days I could get lifetime disability payments of a percentage to be determined by a hearing. But I waived my right to disability and got discharged a few days later, as it would not have been fair to the taxpayers to take disability payments.

Shortly after joining the LDS church I moved to New York City while stationed in the Coast Guard and remained there when I was discharged a few months later. I attended the local congregation and worked as the handyman at a Mormon member-owned Copy Center that had 5 locations throughout Manhattan.

The church, which only had 2 small congregations in all of Manhattan at the time, had just built a large new building across from the Julliard Center. There was a multi-storied apartment building attached to the 4-story main church building. The second floor was a Visitors Center and offices, the third floor contained the main church meeting rooms for the local congregations, and the 4^th floor was reserved for Solemn Assemblies and special meetings.

One day shortly after the building was completed, I had just returned to work after two days off, to discover that President Kimball, the Prophet and President of the church, was going to be at the new building that morning to give a news conference in preparation for dedicating the building.

At first I was excited at the thought that I might be able to go down to the church and catch a glimpse of him and maybe even shake his hand. Then I realized they would never give me the time off as I had just returned after 2 days off.

Then to my total surprise the manager came up and told me the owner was on the phone and wanted to speak to me. She was an absentee owner and did not attend my local congregation, so I had never before seen or spoken to her.

She told me she wanted to set up some floral displays in the halls of the new building before President Kimball arrived, and would I please meet her there in a half hour so I could help her set them up. Wow! I was on the subway in a flash and at the church in 15 minutes. Though I was there for 3 hours she never showed up.

However, a little (5’ tall) old man came out of one of the offices on the second floor when he saw me just hanging around and asked what I was doing. I explained I was waiting for my boss to come and we were going to set up flowers for President Kimball’s arrival.

He called me into his office and introduced himself as President Neff, the president of the NYC Mission. I mentioned that I sure would like to shake President Kimball’s hand as he passed by and President Neff assured me the opportunity would certainly present itself.

After about 5 minutes I heard a secretary in one of the offices announce that President Kimball was arriving downstairs, so I hurried down into the foyer so I could see him and hopefully shake his hand as he passed.

However, when he came in he was at the center of a small entourage surrounded by at least a dozen reporters, and there was no way I could sift through the crowd to shake his hand. The group moved together into both elevators and I was left standing alone in the foyer.

It was then that I realized that all of the people had been wearing very nice clothes and I was really out of place in my work-stained jeans and t-shirt.

I took the stairs back up to the second floor figuring to at least get a second look when President Kimball came out from his tour of the Visitors Center. As I was pacing about the elevator landing, President Neff came back out and asked if I had shaken President Kimball’s hand. I told him there had been too many people to get that close, and after realizing what I was wearing it probably wasn’t appropriate.

President Neff reached up to put his hand on my shoulder and said, “Do you think what you are wearing will matter to President Kimball? He grew up on a farm and he won’t care at all.”

Emboldened by those words I waited happily for another 10 minutes until President Kimball and all the people walked out of the Visitors Center and toward the elevators. But the second floor landing was much smaller than the first floor landing and I was squished into a corner by the throng of people.

As the elevator went up to the third floor President Neff came back out into the hall and asked if I had gotten the opportunity to shake President Kimball’s hand. Once again I told him “no” and told him it had been enough just to see him that close. I asked if I could use one of the phones in the offices to call work and see why my boss had never shown up.

He told me I couldn’t use a phone until after I had shaken President Kimball’s hand. He said, he didn’t know why, but he felt prompted by the Holy Ghost that it was important for me to do it. He told me to go up to the 3^rd floor and find President Kimball and not to give up until I had shaken his hand.

So up the elevator I went and down the hall to the Aaronic Priesthood room where I heard President Kimball speaking in his raspy voice. I quietly entered the room which contained the baptismal font and quickly observed that President Kimball was explaining to the news media what Mormons believed concerning baptism.

Seeing me enter, one of the entourage quickly came over and intercepted me before I could take 2 steps into the room. Looking over my unkempt appearance and less than Sunday-go-to-meeting clothes, he blocked my way, seemingly intent on preventing me from going any further into the room. He asked, “May I help you?”

I explained that President Neff had insisted I take the opportunity to shake President Kimball’s hand, and I would just stand quietly by the door and catch him on his way out if that was OK.

He was silent for a moment as if considering how to respond, when suddenly President Kimball stopped speaking to the news media and looked over at us. We made eye contact across the room and he said in a voice that all heard, “I would very much like to meet that young man.”

The man in front of me looked very surprised to hear that but he quickly escorted me over to President Kimball and his wife Camille Kimball who was standing beside him. As quickly as that I found myself reaching my hand out to meet his, I was shaking his hand. Before I could speak, President Kimball spoke first, saying words that shocked me to my core; words which I have seldom shared before with others. Never taking his eyes from mine, he said, “I want you to know that it is a very great honor for me to meet you.”

I was dumbfounded. I could not speak. I think my mouth gaped open as my jaw dropped down to my chest. Those were the words I should have said to him. I moved my mouth trying to reply, but no words came out. I was literally and for the only time in my life, dumbstruck.

Seeing my predicament, President Kimball looked over to the gathered news media, who had been too far away to hear the words he had quietly spoken. Addressing them, he asked if they would please excuse him and his wife for a few minutes as someone had just come in with whom he must speak to at that moment.

Then drawing me into a spot near the baptismal font, as far from other people as possible, with Sister Kimball by his side, calling me Brother, he addressed me by name, even though I had not given it to him, and asked about my family. He wanted to know how I had come to join the church, what I was doing right then in my life, and what my plans were for the future. We spoke for about five minutes. During all that time he never let go of my hand and continued to hold it firmly as when we had first shaken hands.

I have never before met a man or woman who exuded such an intense aura of both authority and humility. Then he told me that though he would like nothing more than to be able to speak with me at great length, his responsibilities required that he continue with the news conference and that we would likely never meet again. But his parting words to me still ring in my ears as if I had just heard them. They are too personal to give to the world, but I will say that they spoke of my future and subsequent events and left no doubt in my mind that he had a very special connection to God. They were not the words you would expect to hear from the leader of the LDS Church, but truer words were never spoken, as improbable as they seemed at the time.

He then turned from me and with his wife at his side resumed his news conference as I quietly, still almost in shock, left the room. I wandered in the hall in a daze reflecting upon our conversation. After some time, everyone in the room came out and walked past me, following President Kimball to another part of the church which he was going to speak about. The last 2 people out of the room were Sister Kimball and another lady who was with her.

Sister Kimball came up to me and calling me by name, introduced her friend, and explained that her husband was going to be speaking for some time at the room down the hall. She wanted to know if I had some time and could share the details of my conversion with her and her friend. For the next 20 minutes I did.

As people began to come out of the room down the hall, we realized our time was up. Sister Kimball thanked me for my time, and excusing herself and her friend so they could rejoin her husband, her parting words were, “My husband was very taken with you. I know you have great things to do in the world.” With tears in my eyes, I thanked her for her time and told her to tell President Kimball that I promised to live up to his expectations.

Shortly after that meeting, and after less than a year as a member, I went on a mission for the Mormon Church.

A few weeks before I had to report to the Mission Home in Salt Lake City for basic training I hitchhiked back to New York City to see my friends one last time. I also stopped in to see President Neff again and let him know I had been called to the Pennsylvania Pittsburgh mission. We had just entered his office when I told him, and he asked if I was going to be the best missionary in Pennsylvania. I told him I would do my best. He reached over his desk, grabbed me by my shirt, pulled me closer to him and said, “I didn’t ask if you were going to do your best, I asked if you were going to be the best.”

I replied, “How can I say I will be the best? I don’t know anything else about the other missionaries out there (my competition) or other factors. All I can say is that I will give it everything I have.”

President Neff looked kind of fierce and said, “Only when you start by saying you WILL BE the best, do you have a chance TO BE the best. Think about it.”

I told him in all earnestness that I would, and his lesson to me on that day was to believe that "I WILL BE the best in anything I diligently strive for," which has stuck with me all of my life.

After I had been on my mission for about 2 weeks my companion and I were called by a hospital to come and give a blessing for the sick, to a lady who was receiving care. This was also new territory for me. Not only had I never participated in a blessing, being a new member, I had never even seen one!

My companion explained that there were two parts to the blessing. One Elder anointed the person with a drop of olive oil; then both Elders laid their hands upon the head of the person to be given a blessing, and the other Elder said the blessing. There were no set words to say, just whatever you were led by the spirit to speak. Just the thought of having to bear that kind of responsibility shook me up. But my companion assured me I could do the anointing and just watch and learn while he gave the blessing.

When we arrived at the hospital we were met by a doctor at the entrance to the woman’s room. He drew us aside and explained that she had a terminal condition and only about a week to live. He said she was not LDS, but had a son in England who was. Her son had told her if she was ever in dire need to call the Mormon Elders. He told us he knew we were there to give her a blessing, but cautioned us not to say anything to upset her. If I was trepidatious before about the blessing ordinance, I was triply so after hearing that the lady was not even a member, and terminal.

As we introduced ourselves and spoke to her she didn’t outwardly seem terminal. Though she was obviously weak, she had a sweet smile and spoke with joy at seeing us. But when I looked at her aura, I could see it was very dim and knew she did only have a short time left.

We talked with her about her son and how she had come to call us, and it was a very touching story. Then my companion explained how a blessing worked. He told her about the two parts, then asked her who she would like to do the anointing, and who she would like to give the blessing. I panicked. He hadn’t told me anything about giving her a choice. He told me he was going to give the blessing. I couldn’t even imagine what I could say to a person who was about to die. I said a non-stop prayer in my mind that she would pick him to give the blessing, and then took a deep breath when she said she wanted him to anoint and me to give her the blessing.

I was literally shaking with fear as my companion anointed her and then I approached to lay my hands upon her head to give her a blessing. But the moment my hands touched her head a great calm and peace came over me. It flooded into my body and filled my spirit.

I began to speak, but it was not me speaking. It was my voice, but not my words. I had no control over the words that I spoke; they just flowed out unbidden and unknown. And this sweet old lady was told, not to fear, that the sickness inside her was gone even from that moment, and she would be back in her own home before a week passed.

When I took my hands off her head I looked at her. We both had tears in our eyes and I told her, “That was not me speaking. That was the Holy Spirit of God.”

Despite the fact that blessing for the sick was common in the church, this type of experience was not, and just a few days after that I was transferred to a new area. I never saw or spoke to the lady again, but was told by other missionaries that were in her area that she returned home at the end of the week, without a trace of her terminal illness, and to the great amazement of the doctors.

Later, after I had been on a mission about 5 months, I was transferred to a new area and given a brand new “green” missionary to train. We got along great and did well in our area. But my record of never getting sick took a big hit. For some reason just a couple of weeks after I was transferred, I stopped being able to keep any food down. I didn’t feel sick or have an upset stomach, but whenever and whatever I ate, never seemed to stay in my stomach but came right back up, and unlike my college days, I wanted it to remain.

This went on for over two weeks and I lost some noticeable weight. My District Leader and his companion came over and gave me a blessing to be healed, but there was no improvement. I went to the doctor and they couldn’t figure out what was wrong with me. Then things got worst. I became unable to hold down liquid, even water. It wouldn’t even make it to my stomach before it would come back up. The doctor had given me some pills to take and they would get down into my throat and then come back up along with the water I was trying to swallow them with.

After 2 days of not being able to keep liquid down, I was getting a little scared. The District Leader came over and gave me a second blessing, but once again, I did not improve. I became bedridden and weak. I wanted to go to the hospital but my missionary companions and District Leader didn’t seem to think that I was as bad off as I thought I was. They told me to give some more time for the Lord to heal me.

When I awoke on the morning of my fourth day without water, I knew there was no help for me within the church. I felt if I didn’t do something I was going to die. I reflected back upon my life and the one force that had literally saved my life on multiple occasions: the Ki force.