PART FIVE – Moon River to Harvest Haven (cont.)
Bill Welton had stalled the transfer of our mutuals while they were losing money. There was no question in my mind he was deliberately uncooperative. I reported him to the Securities Commission, speaking to Lee Smyth.
Did it do any good? The stocks industry makes a show of integrity and concern, does an “investigation,” and protects itself. It’s the same as when one complains of a medical doctor’s abuse to the self-governing medical association and gets nowhere. It is all a sham.
I expected as much, but thought it wouldn’t hurt to get his name on the books nonetheless. Who knows if there isn’t a conscience out there somewhere? Besides, the wicked need to hear they’re offending. Nevertheless, the Lord had them do all this evil successfully for my sake. Temporarily, they prosper, but the day of reckoning comes for all with perfect timing. It’s never been otherwise.
Perhaps Bill was facing problems in other ways. He had been with Nesbitt Thomson but a short time, then went to Midland, which was reported to be losing a lot of money, and I don’t know where he went from there. Obviously, he wasn’t a stable company man. A man on the run? Perhaps they didn’t like his ways?
It was a great relief when we were finally free of Bill Welton. Our funds had come down within a year from $350,000 to $250,000. I had been angry with Marilyn for persisting to remain in the market when I wanted out, but I was angrier with myself for listening to her and Archie. While holding in the market, we had hoped the Lord would turn things around, but when we finally sold, we realized how much we had lost. Marilyn broke down and cried.
But remember her prophecy? “A quarter million to a million”? If those were words from God, I thought at first He was rounding off the figures and speaking generally. But $280,000 (the amount we started with) was not His starting point; it was too much. It had to be what He said it was – $250,000, a quarter million, which is what we now had.
I had some talks with Rick Dempsey about the Lord. He and his wife, Cindy, were attending the Evangelical Free Church in Lethbridge. He told me that while he was excited about the things I was sharing with him, they were frightening to his wife.
I’ve had things to say to several men, and oftentimes their wives felt threatened. I recall this being so with Glen and Bea Bradford; a couple we met with Operation Mobilization in New Jersey; Mike and Theresa Trepanier in Winnipeg; Brian and Tiara Bickerton in Lethbridge; Bob and Lynn Gregson of Lethbridge; Trevor and Sheila Anderson of Lethbridge, and so many others in our past.
There would be more in future. Why is this? Why aren’t the men so afraid? Are men more dishonest about their feelings? Not that there haven’t been men fearful of me. There have been many.
So many people go to the Evangelical Free Church in Lethbridge. An acquaintance, Val Matteotti, once jokingly remarked on all the traffic he saw there, “They must have an easy way to Heaven!” He was right. The cheap, counterfeit gospel is indeed an easy way. “Just ask Jesus into your heart as your Savior, join us, and that’s it – you’re in, forever, guaranteed to stay.”
Church systems also operate on greed and fear, not so differently from the stock market. Most preach that unless you get right with God (meaning you come to their church with your lip service and money), you’ll perish in everlasting torment; but if you’re saved, everything is yours, Heaven included. All or nothing. If that isn’t dealing in fear and greed, what is?
Many churches also preach a guarantee of financial prosperity for the “true believer” who gives them money. Oral Roberts, Kenneth Hagin, Kenneth and Gloria Copeland, Creflo Dollar, Benny Hinn, Robert Schuller, Dick Deweert, and thousands of others have preached the tantalizing earthly prosperity message. If a man is lured by gain, and he believes the message of those who preach that gain is godliness, isn’t it greed that attracts him? But they call it “faith.”
Faith in, and fidelity to, God has nothing to do with gaining this world’s riches, though God blesses and provides (or withholds) as He sees necessary for one’s spiritual welfare.
The stock market has not come close to tormenting and destroying the number of souls religion has, and the brokers of the churches are no less ruthless. They are more effective, however, in that they more convincingly pretend virtue, and promise not only financial but eternal rewards.
God called me out of religion in 1976 to teach me and to open my eyes so I might speak these things to others, so their eyes might also be opened. God wills that they might be spared, as I and those with me have been spared.
Back to the subject of husbands and wives: Do wives rule husbands? They have, ever since Adam took his wife’s lead instead of obeying God. At that time, husbands became their wives’ followers and possessions.
How did it happen? Yielding to the serpent’s temptation, Eve ate from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil, which God had forbidden Adam to do. She yielded to the serpent’s invitation, ate the fruit, and persuaded her husband to eat it, as well.
Women of this world desire their husbands to follow them. Believing a lie, wives are threatened when Truth is spoken. Truth requires a response, and wives don’t want their husbands to hear and believe something that will make uncomfortable, uncontrollable waves with the boat of their lives. Wives fear losing what they consider to be theirs.
And what do husbands do? If they’re more interested in pleasing their wives than believing the Truth and obeying God, they’ll avoid the Truth at all costs. Sometimes, they’ll begin to oppose me, persuaded emotionally by their wives, even presuming or pretending to protect the “weaker sex,” acting as faithful guard dogs or saviors. They are most often their wives’ lapdogs, obedient to but a little look or word – a slight familiar tug on the leash from their mistresses.
Why are husbands so? They choose to reject the Truth; they ought not to blame their wives. To do so is hypocrisy, which is worse than unapologetic opposition to Truth.
I’ve discovered the reality of what the Catholic Church calls “the original sin,” but from another perspective. They call it “the Fall.” That it is, but Adam didn’t just fall. Knowing better, he willingly capitulated to his wife as she fell captive to the serpent. However, as Jesus promised, believing the truth will make one free and serve to bring freedom to those involved. You may wish to read The Vashti-Esther Transmutation.
No person is ever the same again upon hearing the Truth. It doesn’t matter if they believe, don’t believe, or presume to remain neutral – “presume” I say, because there’s no such thing as neutrality when it comes to Truth. All that hear are called into account. Better not to hear if one isn’t prepared to obey. Jesus said:
“Take heed what you hear. With that measure which you measure, it shall be measured to you. And to you who hear, more shall be given. For he who has, more shall be given to him; and he who has not, from him shall be taken even that which he has” (Mark 4:24-25 MKJV).
“And that servant who knew his lord’s will and did not prepare, nor did according to his will, shall be beaten with many stripes. But he not knowing, and doing things worthy of stripes, shall be beaten with few stripes. For to whomever much is given, of him much shall be required. And to whom men have committed much, of him they will ask the more” (Luke 12:47-48 MKJV).
“The one who is not with Me is against Me, and the one who does not gather with Me scatters” (Matthew 12:30 MKJV).
Up to this time, the Lord had given me about 25 songs. I wanted to record them. Someone told me about Chuck Lawson of Lethbridge, who, I was told, was a Christian musician, was very good on steel guitar, and might want to help me do something. I called him. He asked for a tape and told me he would do one or two songs to give me an idea of how it would sound.
I dropped off the tape and waited. In a few weeks I called. He hadn’t gotten to it. A month later, I called again, then three or four more times over the period of a year or so. Finally, I picked the tape up, resigned that I wasn’t going to see my music recorded this way or at this time. Obviously, he wasn’t impressed, but why wouldn’t he be upfront about it?
Isn’t it a shame how those who profess Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior are loose with their words and promises? This man professed faith and presumed to be a musician for His glory, yet promised repeatedly and didn’t keep his word. He always had an excuse of some kind when I called.
Many are they who profess Christ, yet conduct themselves irresponsibly. The fruit only tells me they have nothing to do with Him. They play games. As far as I’m concerned, a broken promise is no different from a lie. And who is the father of lies? And who are his children, if not those who lie? The churches are filled with such.
Still, I recognized it wasn’t the Lord’s will at this time for my songs to be recorded. It may never happen, and I’m fine with that.
In 1976, while with Mickey and Lynne Patrick, the Lord gave me a dream, in which He portrayed me as a crazed rabbit rushing to do God’s will. In December 1994, I received a spiritual healing to deal with that rabbit, the carnal nature that seeks to do the will of God in its own understanding. There’s a Scripture that comes to mind and pointedly applies to the way I entered the stock market:
“Also, that the soul be without knowledge, it is not good; and he that hastes with his feet sins” (Proverbs 19:2 KJV).
I went in rushing with greed and ignorance, though we had persuaded ourselves we were doing God’s will. And we were severely chastened for it. Bill Welton and Glen Seaman had been used of God to deal with me. I needed and deserved everything I got. Praise God for those men. While they meant it for evil, God meant it for good.
At a garage sale, I witnessed an event with a little boy and his mother. While she was browsing, he was dancing and wincing, needing to pee. I recalled the experience I had as a child at the Dauphin Exhibition and decided to intervene. I asked the owner of the home if she would allow the little boy to use her washroom. The mother was either careless or reluctant to ask. The lady consented, I told the mother, and the child went to the bathroom.
I was thankful I had done this good deed, until… within days, I began to experience what that little boy was experiencing. I couldn’t go for long before I found myself looking for the next available washroom. I suddenly remembered what I had done for the boy, realizing I wasn’t having that problem up to the time I presumed to help him. I was amazed.
Had I stuck my nose where it didn’t belong? Apparently so. Elijah was sent to one widow outside Israel during a famine when there were many widows in Israel that could have used help. He didn’t interfere with God’s judgment, though it must have been an unpleasant thing for Elijah to witness the suffering all around him.
My problem would continue for years. There were days when I would nearly pee myself, frantically trying to find a nearby washroom. I was now finding restaurants to be a benefit instead of a bane. A day came, years later, when the problem was removed in a peculiar way.
I have the habit of eating crumbs. I enjoy cleaning up empty cake or casserole pans. In the cookie jar, cracker box, and potato chip bag, I go for the broken pieces. I even retrieve breadcrumbs and cheese drippings in the toaster oven tray. When my wife makes a bag of popcorn, I shake the bag and go to the bottom for the crumbs and kernels. I clean meat bones and eat up scanty leftovers.
My brother Archie told me I was that way as a kid. Perhaps I was hungry after returning home from Auntie’s and Uncle’s where I was accustomed to eating twice to three times as much. I’d now be cleaning every crumb. As bothersome as it sounds, I actually enjoy it, but I can go without it, no problem.
Ever since I can remember, I’ve been obsessed with counting everything around me, especially if I’m just sitting or lying there. I count the tiles of the floor, the boards in the ceiling, the parts of a curtain, the parts of a light fixture, including the printing on the bulb, even the leaves on a plant. OCD?
Watching TV, I would count the facial features of the newsman, the brows, folds in the eyelids, each side of the nose, parts of the eyeglasses, cheekbones, lips, teeth, tongue, and chin. I would count the parts of his suit, including the two sections of each lapel, the buttonhole, and the pocket, two or four visible parts of his tie, and the parts of his shirt showing on each side of the tie. If words are printed, I will count the number of letter parts, not just letters. “F” has one part but “P” has two with the enclosure. “Not Very Funny” would count 14. I do this every day, automatically.
Almost always, I do it subconsciously, but when realizing what I’m doing, I try to stop. I’ve asked the Lord to take it away and He hasn’t answered. Nothing has worked. Perhaps someone has an answer to this problem? I don’t know where it began or why. The Lord will provide in due time.
Particle – Another Woman for Paul
We traveled to Missoula in April 1995 to see Paul and met his employer, Bob Whaley, an interesting, intelligent Vietnam war veteran. While in training as a stockbroker, Paul met Monica Taylor, the daughter of a brokerage firm owner in Arkansas. As always, Paul was on the lookout for a woman, and she happened to be watching for a man.
As Paul testified to Monica, she made a profession of faith in Christ and it wasn’t long before they made plans to marry. Paul would never give up on marriage.
Monica had been medically diagnosed with endometriosis and was considering surgery. While we don’t advise against doctors, we do advise that the Lord may choose to heal us miraculously. Paul prayed for Monica. She went back to the doctor and was pronounced completely free of the ailment.
Who says there is no God?
Particle – Monica Shows Signs of Faith
Monica said she had a million-dollar portfolio and wanted to give 10% of it to the Lord. With some hesitancy, I consented, not sure her faith was real, but there was at least one reason to believe it was real: God had healed her of endometriosis. She had to have faith to receive.
As well, she was willing to part with her money, something many find difficult to do, if not impossible.
She was also in constant contact with us, calling and talking about spiritual matters. Most people, if they have no interest in the Lord, keep their distance. They don’t usually find it so easy to fake it for very long.
The one thing that made me doubt her faith was possible motive – she stood to gain a husband in Paul. As it turned out, when she realized Paul wasn’t going to marry her after all, she was quick to seriously consider another fellow, who wasn’t the most desirable prospect of a spouse by any means, from what we heard from her.
Marilyn and I received an invitation to my mother’s family reunion. When I received it, I became angry. Anytime we visited them in the past, we would walk away wounded in soul. They would ignore us and whisper and sulk at us, not to mention my sister’s proclivity for throwing out nasty public remarks. I thought, “They have nerve inviting us into their midst again only to mistreat us. This is enough; I’m replying, and this time, I’ll express everything that’s been on my mind and heart all these years – no holding back.”
I wrote my mother a scathing letter. After all those years of trying to hold it in and take it on the chin without reacting, I had had enough. I always meant only good to any and all, but they despised me in my deliverance from sin. I had tried to forgive and forget, to overlook, to treat with patience and meekness, but no more. I decided it was time for them to hear the other side, about how we felt and how they were treating us.
We wouldn’t be hearing from my mother for several years.
Paul writes: “In 1995, in a vision, I saw Alan Greenspan, head of the Federal Reserve Bank, on top of what appeared to be a somewhat translucent surface, intently working what appeared to be something like financial incantations, while below the surface lurked a monstrous dragon. The incantations were keeping the dragon submerged, but I clearly saw how close at hand danger and devastation were.”
Paul writes: “In 1995, I had a vision. I was a large eagle, mounting high up over the earth, filled with zeal for the battle I was going into against the whole world that is at enmity with the Lord. I was consumed and liberated by my desire to fight and have no fear, come what may. As I proceeded, on my right hand, a huge flock of eagles came to join me, allies in the battle ahead. ”
On the fateful day of May 5th, 1995, a young male bachelor university student came to Moon River representing College Pro Painters, offering house painting services. Sean Fife and I got talking about spiritual matters. After an hour or so, he left with our phone number, saying he would call and talk more. I thought, “Many have promised to call and never do.” But he came, and his initial follow-up visit was not the surprise, not remotely.
House hunting was upon us again. According to the promise the Lord had given me – that we would be buying Archie and his family a home – we began shopping for an acreage where they could comfortably raise their family, learn some basics of life, learn about farming, and grow some organic food.
Martin and Mary Oordt were advertising their home on forty acres, northeast of Lethbridge. (Professor Martin Oordt was the man who treated me with disdain some time ago when I had brought my poetry to him at the University for his assessment and advice.) We went to view it. They had a barn, a cooler, a sizable house, and a swimming pool. Archie had a vision wherein he saw money raining down from the sky (Heaven?) to us at a farm. Perhaps this was the place.
We talked with the Oordts, and Martin was insulting and belligerent. I didn’t know why, and it wouldn’t occur to me until many years later. At the time, I thought, “Why is he being deliberately insulting? What did we ever do to him? How does he expect to sell his home?” We made an offer, it was refused, and it wasn’t long before they sold their property. We would come to be thankful it was withheld from us.
In 1976, at the men’s retreat in Canmore, Alberta, Leonard Barrows had heard Don Morrison prophesy over me about my “foot stepping on foreign soil.” He urged me to move just over the border to Sunburst, Montana (his interpretation of “foreign soil” was the USA). The great move of God was in Sunburst, he said, and there we would receive the “fivefold ministering” we needed in our spiritual lives. He warned us that unless we received their ministry, we would perish.
Where had we heard those words before? We knew what Barrows was saying wasn’t of God.
Nearly twenty years later, as we passed through Sunburst after visiting Paul, we decided to look up people of this group. Enquiring, we met Carolyn Dangerfield, a once-active member. She was living in an old home with a huge living room where the group once held meetings. The congregation had disbanded; the house, town, and area were desolate.
Carolyn informed us now, in 1995, that the group had already been falling apart in 1976 when Leonard was urging us to come. She also told us that Leonard died prematurely of illness several years ago, and that his wife married an unbeliever. Again it was made clear how the Lord had kept us.
As for Carolyn, she lost her son, not knowing why he died. Now she was involved with the Toronto Blessing at Airport Vineyard, a famous and popular place where manifestations of all kinds were attributed to the Holy Spirit of God. People would have convulsions, roll, crawl and slither on the floor, laugh uncontrollably, twitch, twitter, howl, bark, scream, and peep. Tens of thousands of professing believers and others came from around the globe for healing, sensationalism, and spiritual edification.
No doubt one can find nonsense and falsehood within true Christian fellowships, as with the Corinthian congregation. One also finds professing believers “without wedding garments” creeping in unawares. However, falsehood and error will be discerned by men of God as illegitimate and, by God’s grace, won’t be tolerated for long. But these diabolical manifestations and activities were not only tolerated at Airport Vineyard, the leaders promoted them as of God. They viewed them as evidence of godly “freedom in the Spirit.”
It must be known that while the Spirit of God brings joy, He is not about confusion, imitation of animals, entertainment, sensationalism, or any kind of foolishness; never was, and never will be.
We tried to reason with Carolyn about these things. We told her that her son didn’t die without cause, for nowhere in Scripture is the premature death of a believer regarded as acceptable before God, aside from martyrdom. We advised her that, as believers, they could find out why their son died. She refused to listen and dismissed us.
When we got home, I wrote her a letter, quoting many of the things she said that were plain foolishness, rebuking her, and calling on her to repent. Carolyn wrote back informing me I was one causing division in the Body of Christ, saying she was marking me according to this Scripture:
“Now I beseech you, brethren, mark them which cause divisions and offences contrary to the doctrine which ye have learned; and avoid them” (Romans 16:17 KJV).
She declared she would be notifying other churches of me, assuming it to be her Christian duty according to that Scripture. Here were the rotting fruits, the remnants of a “great move of God,” a “fivefold ministry” speaking with “piety and authority.”
God had kept us again and again.
Who says there is no God?
In one of these years I visited the Lethbridge police station – I don’t recall why. As I sat there, an officer came in and referred to City Hall as “Shitty Hall.” I felt bad – call it naiveté, idealism, or unreality. I was brought up to respect the law and its officers. I therefore expected policemen to conduct themselves as worthy of respect.
I also believe I’d been influenced by my dream of righteous policemen, those I saw in Heaven who were helping us.
Yes, I know – police officers are only human. They’ve been well known to be much worse. Still, my idea of a police officer is one who conducts himself with integrity and social grace. I have no doubt that if they exercised dignity, conducted themselves respectfully towards others, and recognized the importance of proper public conduct and appearance, they would be more respected by those they’re to help and protect. Their influence for good would be significant.
Surprisingly, fifty days after his initial visit to us, Sean Fife did call. What I didn’t know then was how his influence in our lives was going to be so totally unexpected, dramatic, traumatic, and significant.
He began to call and visit frequently, even staying with us several weekends. Sean was about 22, I believe, while I was 49 and Marilyn 45.
As we shopped for a home for Archie, Cathie, and their children, we checked out a log house in the country south of Lethbridge, owned by Brenda Pierson, an insurance broker. We got to meet and visit with Brenda. She was friendly, but troubled, perhaps searching, and willing to open up, and we were thankful to be able to help her. The time would come, however, when she could receive no further help from us.
Archie brought a man he met, Russ Brayne, to my attention because Russ was dying of cancer. Few have been the people for whom I have prayed to be healed. With Russ, I had the faith and conviction that if he were to have faith, God would heal him. He didn’t believe what I had to say to him about sin and repentance, however, and it wasn’t long before he passed away.
Why do I bring him up? It’s because I felt I had that faith for him I’ve had only on rare occasions for anyone. I don’t know why I had it or what it meant. I guess it meant there was healing waiting for him if only he had availed himself of it.
Lois and Cathie went to a U-pick farm just outside of Lethbridge for farm-fresh strawberries. They mentioned to the owner we were in the market for an acreage and asked if they knew of any for sale. The owner said, “Just last night, we decided we were selling our farm” (an 80-acre market farm). They had owned it for about 12 years, having purchased it from the Fortunes.
Marilyn and I went to see it. It happened to be one we had visited years earlier, in 1988 or so, when shopping for lamb. At that time, the thought had entered my mind, “I wouldn’t mind owning this property.” It was a simple, fleeting thought; I don’t recall having such a thought for any other property at any time. The place was not for sale then, and if it had been, we had no financial means whatsoever of buying it, nor did we have any interest in operating it.
Where are we to go from here? You’ll find out in Part Six!
END OF PART V
COMING NEXT: PART VI – HARVEST HAVEN TO SURPRISE VISITORS
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Page 10 PART SEVEN – Surprise Visitors to Day 888 (cont.) Particle – I Am Evil I wrote in my journal: I am evil, a hypocrite, a destroyer; always was. There has been no change in me. I've tried to believe, think, and speak right; to love, obey, submit, repent, suffer, accept, thank, rejoice, and do and be all those things I thought were expected of me as a believer in Christ. I've failed miserably and suffered the loss of almost all things. Being blind, I probably don't see clearly at this point that I've lost everything. I criticize, condemn, point the finger, “judge,” “smite with the fist,” “lay heavy burdens,” enslave, impose, demand, trouble, rail, find fault – always. I chafe at things I don't like; I fret, stew, and verbally, violently retaliate. I'm that meddling, destructive son of perdition, man of sin, false prophet, anti-Christ, accuser of the brethren, devil, adversary to God, to all good, and to all mankind. I am ‘that wicked one.' I'm vile and have nothing to do with God or He with me. No wonder I've lost everything! No wonder I'm hated by all, including my ex-wife. I'm a damned soul and have neither the ability nor desire to change. God knows I've wanted to be different, or does He know that I haven't wanted to be different? God damn my soul! If I don't destroy myself, God will. If He won't, I will – I've done it. All these years, for decades, I hoped for change, deliverance, resurrection, and healing. I prayed, begged, wished, and cried for it. God ...
Page 3 PART ONE – Darkness to Light (cont.) Particle – Isabel's Ire Perhaps once every few months, our family would drive twenty miles west to Gilbert Plains to see my mother's parents and siblings. We enjoyed Grandma's bread and donuts, and the variety of crabapples and plums from their orchard in season. We enjoyed going to the Rex Café, where we would buy a dinner plate of potato French fries for 25 cents and share them. We enjoyed playing with Terry, Pat, Linda, Lois, Isabel, and Marlene (my aunts and uncles, three of which were younger and the others not much older than I), as well as with their neighbors, Hope and Daryl Bushie. There was one day, however, that stands out, and not a pleasant one. I do not recall how old I was, perhaps between seven to nine. We had all piled into my father's ‘51 Ford. In the back were my grandmother and her daughters, Isabel and Lois. We younger children had to sit in laps. I happened to be sitting in Isabel's lap. She was about three or fours years older than I. A strong disagreement arose between her and Lois on the one side and me on the other. I do not recall what it was, but in anger, Isabel took hold of my head and dug her long nails into my face, scoring it and drawing blood. I have little doubt that I was blameworthy to some extent at least. There was no call, however, for marring my face and drawing blood. What made it more unpleasant was that, seated in her lap, I was helpless to defend myself while she attacked from beh...
Page 11 PART TWO – Pentecost to Israel (cont.) Particle – The Patrick Connection and Odyssey Our time was coming to an end at Branion Drive. Fred and Joyce Meiers were returning to claim their house, so we had to find another place. The only problem was we had no money, or work to earn money, to afford a home. When they returned, they thought it irresponsible of me not to be working. As members of the Alliance Church, they were also in disagreement with our walk in the Spirit, thinking it foolishness. I couldn't blame them for their judgment according to appearance. The problem is the appearance seldom reveals the reality of things. Meanwhile, Dave Loewen had made mention of two men who were pastoring a thriving, though controversial, independent Charismatic church in Saskatoon, called Mount Zion Christian Center, and suggested we get in touch with them, so we did. They in turn told us of a couple living in Prince Albert, Mickey and Lynn Patrick, suggesting we get in touch with them, so we did. Particle – A Fist in the Air We invited Mickey and Lynn over one evening, and we had a time of sharing and singing. I recall Mickey, with his eyes closed, raising his fists into the air while we were praising the Lord, as though locked in a trap of pride and rebellion. I thought it not a good sign. Nevertheless, we decided to get together again. Because they had a toddler, Rena, it was more convenient for them to meet in their home, which we did from then on. It soon ...