And He Spoke

By Bruce A. Moot

This book is about overcoming the ravages that the physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual orphans face in this world. There is real hope that you, too, can find your real Father in heaven and realize His love and His providence right here on this earth.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trilogy Christian Publishing
• Release date: Jan 7, 2020
• ISBN: 9781640883345

Book preview

and HE spoke

BRUCE A. MOOT

Although not by one’s choice, the world is full of physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual orphans, thus creating a void in our souls that fosters internal and external environments that breed cycles of rise and defeat, ultimately becoming prisons that relentlessly plague us throughout our lifetime as we constantly pursue man-made remedies, only to end up in desperate need for a supernatural intervention.

This book is dedicated to all those orphans who struggle with the challenge of eradicating the shackles this curse has laid upon them.

Hopefully you will, as I have, respond to the supernatural calling of God the Father through Jesus Christ, the Son. And willingly be led on a new journey of true identity and freedom established in His love.

Contents

Acknowledgments 9

Introduction 11

Chapter 1: The Before 13

Chapter 2: The Departure 23

Chapter 3: The After 27

Chapter 4: The Answer 31

Chapter 5: The New Journey 37

Chapter 6: The Searching and Unveiling 45

Chapter 7: Preparations for Travel to a Far Land 65

Chapter 8: New Beginnings 91

Afterword 115

Acknowledgments

It is because of the grace of God and the guidance of the Holy Spirit through the sacrifice of the Lord Jesus Christ that I was able to find my true Father and be set free from the shackles of being a physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual orphan.

Introduction

God’s divine revelation is sacred, and it has been clearly proven that every person’s beginning is God-breathed, anchored in His being, His love, His truth, and His light. And although this beginning has been sabotaged by the deceit of the evil one, everyone that ever was or will ever be on the face of this earth has before them two paths. One comes automatically with natural physical birth, and the other only comes when one is born again of God. This truth includes all of humanity, every gender and race, whether or not one is intelligent or dull, rich or poor, weak or strong. The first path is time, which encompasses birth and death in the natural.

Because of the fallen nature of mankind, this path touches all of humanity. It starts at physical birth in the natural, which initiates death. The beginning and end of this path have no separation, nor is there a transition from the birth to death. They both are muted together throughout all the phases of one’s life.

At first, the beginning of life or birth seems to force the end, which is death out of focus, especially in one’s youth as each person is consumed with their own sense of power, strength, beauty, and the nowness of all their flesh choices. However, the end or death gradually overtakes the beginning or birth as time runs out. This self-reliant independence proves lethal in the end, resulting in sheer emptiness that can only be silenced by the grave.The summation of this path is futility.The second path is eternity or rebirth into God’s supernatural realm. It can embrace life at any stage, and when it does, it transitions one’s natural life into the supernatural realm of eternity.

The natural or the before of this path doesn’t come into true awareness until the transition into the after or the supernatural begins. Eternity cannot be embraced until one is called by God and is born again, not of the flesh but of the spirit. It requires a childlike nature, one that is willing to put its trust squarely in the hands of the Creator, based upon faith plus experiential and revealed spiritual knowledge, as one is led into eternity and everlasting life.The summation of this path is salvation and the eternal nowness of God’s unfolding plan not only for mankind but for all creation as we enter into His glorious light.

Chapter 1

The Before

The called ones gathered in a small, quiet, dimly lit room. The two large floor-to-ceiling windows, one on the east and one on the west, were shuttered, giving the room a sense of stillness as the eerie hush before an approaching storm.

Other than being responsible for making their own way to the gathering place, the called ones would incur no cost and nor obligation except to arrive with an open heart and a willing mind, just as the invitation stated in big bold letters on the very first line. Not everyone accepted the invitation, however; perhaps it was the last line of the invitation that put them off for it stated again in big bold letters, Unless you are truly willing to open your heart and challenge your life’s anchors, known or unknown, real or imagined, negative or positive, and have your traditional thinking probed and your minds opened, DO NOT RESPOND.

Those rebuffed by this seemingly bold request only proved that in this time and age of independence, hearts are not easily surrendered and the veils over one’s mind not easily lifted.

Before the messenger sent out the invitations, he took much care and thought regarding those who would receive them. Those who were chosen were from the seven continents, representing men and women of all ages, all races, and all beliefs. Some of those who responded would be required to travel great distances and at great costs, while others, with ease, would just hop on the next plane out or catch the next bus. Only one of them would have to make the short trek from his home to the spoken location. While some of them truly had searching hearts, others were just intrigued and curious as to what they would experience upon arrival. For on the last page of the invitation, it simply stated that the topic of the evening was Just One Drop, nothing more. Hardly alluring, hardly intellectual, scientific sounding, or heart-tugging, but nonetheless irresistible to those who planted these three words in the deep recesses of their souls.

The experience started at 7:00 p.m., the first watch of the evening on a Wednesday in the early fall. The air was fresh and stirring and carried a sense of urgency to all those who made their way after spending the night in the local inn called Shiloh, to the small wooden building on the outskirts of town on 3 End Street. As they each approached the small wooden building, they were not sure at first if they had arrived at the right location, for all of them were expecting a great civic hall or theater or some great assembly building, but instead they had been led to the outskirts of a small town to an old worn and weathered wooden building seemingly hidden in a grove of huge ancient oak trees at the end of a lonely dirt road. All of them would have turned away thinking they were at the wrong place if it were not for the light of two old lanterns hanging on the two posts that held up the roof of the porch, shielding the entrance. Cautiously and slowly, they approached the three wooden steps that led up to the front arched door. As they neared the door, they could see a large brass number 3 fastened to it by three handmade iron nails. Though this dispelled the notion that they were not at the right place, it did not ease their anxious anticipation about what they were soon to experience once inside the dimly lit earthen floor room.

As they entered the small room through the arched door, they were greeted by the mingled fragrances of wheat, oak, and earth. The two large hand-carved oak pillars topped with flickering candles, one on each side of the entrance, beckoned them inward, although they hesitated once inside the door, not sure if they should proceed or not. The chairs were lined in a row, with their backs to the two shuttered windows, thirty-five on the east and thirty-five on the west side of the room. Each three-legged handcrafted wooden chair had crosses that made up their backs, and on each one was placed a hand-crafted crimson-colored cushion draped over by a pure white linen robe, which cradled a small parchment scroll that had a note attached to it by a single scarlet thread.

The lone chair that was placed in the middle of the room was like the others, except it did not have a cross as its back, and instead of a cushion, it was draped with a beautifully white embroidered tasseled linen cloth.

As the people entered the room, filing in one by one, they noticed a young man was already seated in a pure white linen robe on the first seat on the east side of the room. Although no one spoke to each other, for they were all strangers, they wondered in their hearts if perhaps this was the person who had invited them and maybe the one who would guide them through the events of the evening. The young man said nothing and didn’t even look up for he was deeply immersed in reading the small open scroll he held in his hands. As they took their seats, they also picked up their scrolls and opened the small notes attached to them with a single scarlet thread. The notes read, Please close your eyes for a few brief moments and then unroll your scroll and read it. There will be no lights except for the one I hold and the candles near the door you entered, for I want you to embrace the message I will give to you only in their soft flickering light.

After reading their notes, they slowly unrolled their scrolls, finding their individual names beautifully handwritten on the top, followed by these words:

After everyone is gathered, the messenger will come into the room after a few moments. He will enter from the side door to your right in the front of the room. You will be given purposely planned moments to fully embrace the words he will impart to you after you receive them. If you have concerns about what is being spoken to you, please save those until the messenger has finished. Now please cross your arms over your hearts and close your eyes until the messenger begins.

The promised few moments’ wait turned into eternity to the listeners who found themselves engulfed in this quiet, mysterious sanctuary.

Not sure if they were dreaming or awake, they nervously fidgeted in their chairs, for all this was unlike anything they had ever experienced before.

Their pounding heartbeats now joined in a choir that became the only audible sound in the room as it echoed off the high cathedral-like ceiling, bouncing back and encircling them until it grew so loud that it was almost embarrassing. Suddenly a great calm came over them just as the small arched door to their right opened, and into the room stepped the messenger, a wiry man cloaked in a hooded crimson robe carrying a small white candle.