Messages From Beyond Time: Conversations With The Divine Self

By Doina Cotfas

I read in a book that poverty belongs to those who do not want to exit their comfort zone to discover their passion or their calling, hidden within their soul.
I wrote this book after I lived the experience of a cancer, overcoming the ego that always prevented me from being myself, from fulfilling my mission. I only left God to lead my hand, to be His tool, through which a glimpse of light reaches out to you. This book is yours, it belongs to you. You only get answers to the questions that we have in regards to life, love, forgiveness, lack of money or existence of diseases, directly from the source, sitting at the table and talking to God or, if you prefer the term, the Divine Self. I am the drop that falls on your window, blown by the wind. Human, we are so small and still, so big, enjoy every moment and experience LOVE at its maximum, under all its forms. Every moment is unique and irreversible. Learn to love. Learn to forgive yourself, so that you can forgive the others, afterwards.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Doina Cotfas
• Release date: Nov 6, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463043271

Doina Cotfas

I read in a book that poverty belongs to those who do not want to exit their comfort zone to discover their passion or their calling, hidden within their soul.I wrote this book after I lived the experience of a cancer, overcoming the ego that always prevented me from being myself, from fulfilling my mission. I only left God to lead my hand, to be His tool, through which a glimpse of light reaches out to you. This book is yours, it belongs to you. You only get answers to the questions that we have in regards to life, love, forgiveness, lack of money or existence of diseases, directly from the source, sitting at the table and talking to God or, if you prefer the term, the Divine Self. I am the drop that falls on your window, blown by the wind. Human, we are so small and still, so big, enjoy every moment and experience LOVE at its maximum, under all its forms. Every moment is unique and irreversible. Learn to love. Learn to forgive yourself, so that you can forgive the others, afterwards.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1 Conversations with God or the Divine Self. How I started to write. You get answers to what life and love is.

I sit at the table and write. I feel like a student waiting to be taken off the blackboard… but the difference is that I do not get marks. The essence is to be admitted or rejected. Half-measures are not accepted. It is like I am a snowflake. Perhaps, I have this feeling because it’s snowing outside and due to the inertia, the flakes need to fall on the earth, without any way back, or to stay between two galaxies. Even if I want to change the destination, it appears through the pattern received before, knowing what path I will follow.

I admit that I stopped from writing for about two years, because I judged myself, without having the patience to see how you will judge me. I told myself that I am a little insane. I criticized myself, cutting the wings that were growing with every breath of the Universe through my pencil, to find a reason plausible enough to no longer write. I found excuses, invoking the lack of time and money and not least, the fact that I went crazy.

But…

I saw that I am not the only one that God communicates with, in this Universe. Then, I calmed myself down for a moment and I left aside the ego that gained ground to the detriment of the mission that was like a bell singing its beautiful carol.  

I was amazed by the fact that God truly loves us, although we are like some naughty children that look for the money or passing jewelry, that will rust later on and they will not last forever.

This book needs to get to as much people as possible, being sculpted in the galaxy of the bowl that spills its ink with the feather carried by un invisible hand.

Done…

I’m done with judging myself, as I was finding excuses by myself to escape the torture of the words or the impressions of those who know me and salute me every day on the street, whod would have judged me in mind, with the eyes that would have pierced me with the light or the darkness of their souls. 

I sit quiet, without rituals or incantations that are unavoidable for some, to catch a glimpse of the Universe’s sheet music, to transmit the messaged received. My conscience surrenders slowly, like water, to flow from the fountain that the tear of the sky cried for so many centuries on the barnyard of our ancestors’ bones. My mind runs to the Christian religion that my parents baptized me into, where if you talk to every man, he will be convinced that his religion is the true one. But the bell knowcking at the gate of my heart whispers slowly and clearly a single word that I have to carry and show from an earthling podium – word that we call Love. 

Love is the key, although battles have been started for it for centuries, and nations have divided due to not experiencing it, even if fights were performed in our arena, love is the vibration that unites souls and opens doors that lead to the Divine creation, to God.

Now write… A voice merges into my heart and carries my hand …

G: I can see that you remembered what you were aboutt o forget – to open your inkwell from the closet full of beads that I allowed you to fulfill your cravings of spoiled and weird child for the others …

Write…

What only I can whisper to you from the sculpted shadow of the sky that merged into your heart.

Write…

Even if writing will be a small drudgery for you, but don’t stop.

I pour the words that make deeds if the planted seed is watered daily, not only on festive days or chosen days. The intention in all that you do is like a rope linked at its end with the deed. If you’d know what you lose because you banish Me for so many times, and I am trying so many times to whisper you the way.

The way is like a seal sculpted in your DNA  but you forgot about it, because this is what you were told to, this is what you were taught at the school that taught you that God does not exist, because you cannot see Him or touch Him.

Busy with writing, not to lose contents, I don’t even raise from the table, but I sit there with thoughts, without realizing that I am writing at the same time, but I get an information to raise from the writing table in the living room and to go to the kitchen, where I left the oven on, as I was cooking something. Meanwhile, feeling the intuition like a sauce… „the canister is almost finished" was funny, every third word like an advertising banner, these sentences coming to my thoughts. But it was not the time for it to finish, as I just bought it.

But God knows even before the drop falls into the ocean, that it will transform into a snowflake, so that I stand up and conclude that everything is ok… Then, I’m heading back to the writing table and and I write again a couple of sentences, and the same signal is back.

Stop…

This is too much. I thought that I went crazy, why do I keep thinking about the canister and I am losing the words dictated above. Every third word was followed by a warning.

Canister…

Gas…

I stand up again, and I’m heading to the