The Morning Star Rising on the First Day

I previously communicated that I would present the spiritual experiences that are foundational to my belief system, and that is instrumental in the creation of the Possess the Vision initiative.

This first story is not very mystical, but, it provides a powerful message. Look at this story as a parable, a story told in earthly terms to communicate a heavenly message. The translation is this; we have a heavenly Father in heaven that will love and care for and protect us throughout our life journey. It doesn’t matter how many mistakes we make along the way. 

With that said, here is my story of the day that my dad came home from World War II:

DAD COMES HOME

I’m not sure how old I was when my dad came home from World War II. I know that my sister was born in March of 1947, so my dad likely returned in the summer of 1946, making me less than two years old.

But the experience of his return was so magical that I can still view it in my mind’s eye, even today. My mother and I were waiting expectantly, standing behind the screen door of my grandfather’s house. Mom had been telling me for quite some time that my dad was coming home, and I was expectantly looking out the screen door for his arrival. 

I remember the peacefulness and pleasantness of that summer day, as I peered over a wood board that I used for stability. Mom was holding onto the door handle, ensuring that I would not jar it open.  

Then I heard my mom’s voice, “There’s your daddy; there’s your daddy.” I looked down the sidewalk, and sure enough, I saw this tall thin man walking toward us, wearing a Marine dress blue uniform. I saw stripes on his sleeves, and combat ribbons on his chest, and he had tilted his white hat off to one side, conveying to me, “I’m special.”

His face was tan, and it accentuated his white smile. His steps had a spring in them as he moved confidently toward us. He started running as he turned up our walkway and then sprang up the steps onto the porch. Mom opened the door, and the two wrapped their arms around one another in a long embrace, kissed, and swayed back and forth.

I remember standing between them, looking straight up at them, for what seemed like a very long time. I started contemplating tugging on my dad’s trousers when suddenly, he looked down at me, bent over, and picked me up. I then became a part of the hugging party. My dad was home!

So that is the story. Those who earnestly look for the Father will find Him. For those who wait for Him will find that He comes to them. For those who wait for the promise of His existence will find the one true love that you have yearned to know.