On My Way to Heaven

By Michele E. Davis

Summary
Life has a way of taking you through many unexpected twists and turns. Know that God does not do these things to us. He allows things to happen to not only get our attention but to prepare us to operate and function within His purpose He has for our lives. Walk the journey of despair, confusion, and lifes altering circumstances within On My Way to Heaven. Envision how God allows adversities and people to walk in and out of our lives to assist in our preparation. As we learn life lessons, we should embrace forgiveness and learn how to become better instead of bitter. Once this is achieved, a place of peace will be upon you. And Jesus said to Paul, But rise and stand on your feet; for I have appeared to you for this purpose, to make you a minister and a witness both of the things which you have seen and of the things which I will yet reveal to you. (Acts 26:16) As Jesus spoke to Paul on his Journey to Damascus, he speaks to us today.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Oct 7, 2009
• ISBN: 9781477164341

Michele E. Davis

Michele E. Davis has co-authored and authored over 11 books and has been a career writer since she sold her first poem to CRICKET magazine in second grade. She has an MFA in Writing from Hamline University and is always trying to improve her writing technique. Someday it will be perfect.

Book preview

Copyright © 2009 by Michele E. Davis.

Author Photo by Stacey Davis

ISBN:         Hardcover                               978-1-4415-5520-5

                   Softcover                                 978-1-4415-5519-9

                   Ebook                                      978-1-4771-6434-1

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in

any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying,

recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without

permission in writing from the copyright owner.

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris Corporation

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

[e-mail]

61454

CONTENTS

Foreword

A Note from My Mother

Preparation in the

Potter’s Hands

Anticipation

Daddy’s Little Girl

High School

Mama

Shackin’ Up

The Frog

Trying to Change Lanes

The Storm

The Battle

The Prince of Darkness

Moving On

Living with Purpose

Hush… Somebody is Callin’ My Name

Dreams

The Fight of My Life

Enlightenment

On My Way

My Poetic Journey

Mud Pies

Eagles Wings

Brokenness

Send Me

The Wonders of My God

Night Angles

Friendship

And Then There Was God

My Praise for You

Child of God

A Dwelling Place for the Spirit

A Visit with the Holy Spirit

Your Gift for Me

Trust God

The Burial

Boaz

Just Me

Surrender

What?

Let Me

Love

My Adam

Life

Faith

Don’t Fret

Tears

Where

A Note to the Saved and the Lost

Acknowledgements

References

Foreword

This book is an actual account of my life. These are the trials and tribulations that I have endured as the Lord has prepared me to operate and function within the purpose for my life. This is an exposure of which I didn’t necessarily want, but felt under the authority of the Holy Spirit needed to be exposed to uncover the enemy’s traps within life. It is my hope that through my journey another is encouraged as well as inspired to trust the Lord and allow him to lead and guide you through the valleys of life.

On My Way to Heaven is divided into three sections. The first section will take you through my journey of preparation in the Potter’s hands. The second section will demonstrate my purpose; showing the manifestation of guidance, prevention, and healing. Last but not least, the third section, will exhibit my thoughts and emotions at various points within my life by way of poetry.

Let us begin the journey the enemy had determined to kill, steal, and destroy. Trust in the LORD with all your heart, And lean not on your own understanding; In all your ways acknowledge Him, And He shall direct your path. Proverbs 3:5-6

Allow the Lord to order your steps. Let the Lord use you. Resolve in your heart from this day forward to not be bitter but to become better.

A Note from My Mother

God has truly been there all of your life . . .

through all of the black outs and

your pain.

Praise God for my

wonderful gift… YOU!!!

Preparation in the

Potter’s Hands

missing image file

. . . and there he was, making something at the wheel. And the vessel that he made of clay was marred in the hand of the potter; so he made it again into another vessel, as it seemed good to the potter to make.

Jeremiah 18:3-4

Anticipation

I arrived on Earth by way of my mother’s womb. Now it was time for God to prepare me. Did I understand? No. It would be years and years; even decades before I came into the realization of what was happening to me. At first, I thought that I was the victim of some vicarious joke. I felt so confused, so disoriented. Why was I even here? Is this life only suffering? Take me Lord…

Life is a journey. It is not our destination. We are just passing through this world. At the onset of our life we attempt within our subconscious mind to seek out our purpose in this place. As we grow, we begin to realize that we consciously have a purpose, but perhaps it is only an unction within our spirit that we don’t quite understand. We travel paths and enter unknown waters, sometimes causing us happiness, sadness, excitement, shock, distress, anxiety, peace, joy, disappointment, and myriad of other emotions that keep us moving on either the path God has chartered for us or the path that the enemy has deceived us into following. At times even as we follow God, we drift off course just as a ship without a sail. But thanks be to God that no matter how much the winds blows us, not matter how deep the waters run, no matter the temperature of the fire, and no matter the difficulty of the storm, there is a savior, Jesus Christ, who will never leave us nor forsake us (Hebrews 13:5-6). He is with us even to the end of this earth. We just need to learn, find comfort, and trust in him (Micah 3:11, 2 Corinthians 3:1-7, Proverbs 3:5-6).

People will come in and out of our lives to assist us in our life lessons. Some will come, by way of the enemy, in an attempt to derail our journey because his major malfunction is to kill, steal, and destroy us (John 10:10), but know that these people are only temporary even though it may not seem so at the time. As the scriptures tell us Submit yourselves to God. Resist the devil and he will flee from you (James 4:7). Some come and stay for a lifetime. Some walk along side of us within our journey. At times we follow God and we feel all alone. No matter the role any one person or group of people play as we walk this journey, they all are a part of our lessons to be learned as we are prepared for our purpose. Please understand that God doesn’t give you the people you want, he gives you the people you need. He gives you people to help you, to hurt you, to leave you, to love you, and to assist Him with shaping you into the person you were meant to be.

It is my hope that as you walk with me through my journey that you too will be encouraged and see the hand of God on me throughout. Know that he loves you too and has a purpose for you to fulfill whether or not you can see it or feel it right now.

Daddy’s Little Girl

As I recall, I was a little girl sitting on my daddy’s lap. Everything was wonderful in my world. No worries. No problems. The sun was shining and everything was just right in my world. My daddy loves me.

I felt my daddy’s love, that is, until I began to blossom into a young lady. I guess when I was growing up it wasn’t ordinary to interact with your daughter when she began to grow up. But I loved my daddy. I needed him to love me back. I needed him to show me.

Horsey rides and daddy picking me up became a matter of the past, as a shadow within the recesses of my memory. What was I to do now? I had a loving mom but even though she loved me dearly, nothing could fill my empty place, the yearning in my heart for my daddy. Thus, began my journey searching for someone to love me. I mean someone that loved me of the male persuasion. I was a wounded bird. I’m trying to fly but my wings are broken.

Sternness and discipline became my common place. The little girl that I was was wounded. How would I ever recover?

I would go to sleep at night and dream that my daddy was a giant chasing me with a big black leather belt. It was a nightmare. That is what he used when he felt that I needed to be disciplined. I would run as though I were running for my life. As he was about to capture me, I would wake up gasping for breath. I had to calm myself. It was only a dream.

I remember wanting my mommy to save me. But she wouldn’t. She couldn’t. I could only imagine how mama must have felt that day I ran into the kitchen, running for my life from my daddy. Mama, don’t let him whip me. I plopped down on the floor as she was standing at the stove cooking breakfast. I locked my little legs around my mommy’s leg and held onto her leg with my arms as though my life depended on it. He charged in the kitchen and peeled me off of my mother’s leg as she stood there helpless. He dragged me away as I kicked, screamed, and begged for someone to save me. He beat me. Beatings became such common place for me. My body would wear red thick welts and I would always wear clothes to cover them up.

God? Jesus? Yes, I had heard of them both. But hearing and really knowing them is a different matter altogether. I felt so all alone. After all, daddy pushed me away like you push yourself away from the table after you have finished a meal.

I can remember wanting to play with the other children. I was so limited to interaction. I couldn’t do any extracurricular activities. Going to the park was a real treat when I got to go. Riding my bike from driveway to driveway was commonplace for me. I remember sitting on the porch in the summer looking into the sky imagining all sorts of things from the shapes of the clouds. I had many dreams from that porch. I dreamed of getting married one day to some wonderful man, buy a nice house, with a white picket fence, and maybe have three or four children. Ahhh… I would live happily ever after.

As I blossomed more and more my world became more of a nightmare. I had to read a book and make a book report in order to go somewhere and even then I wasn’t allowed. Boys would ride past my house and just look. If they valued their life, they would never stop. It was well known around the neighborhood that you don’t talk to my daddy’s girls. What made matters worse I was the oldest girl.

Time continued to pass. I yearned for companionship. I was starved for my daddy but the most attention I got was the beatings that I got for my pouting of disapproval, disappointment, unsatisfactory looks, mumbling under my breath, and at times words that I probably should have kept to myself.

At times, he would put me on punishment after one of my beatings. He would put me in my room in broad daylight with the kids playing outside. I heard the joy and happiness in their voices as I was isolated. It was hot outside too. We didn’t have air-conditioning. I don’t really know if air-conditioning was even invented at that time. If it was, I didn’t know anyone that had it. He would pull the blinds down and shut my door. You would think that I was a bad little girl, but I wasn’t. I had a little stubbornness in me but it didn’t take much for me to feel the wrath of my father. If I hadn’t looked so much like him, I wouldn’t have believed that I wasn’t his child. He was so mean to me. The only attention I now got from daddy was a good beating, yelled at, and/or punishment.

Well, I thought I had finally found something that my daddy would let me do when I was about eleven years old. I discovered church. I loved the singing and the shouting the women did when they got the Holy Ghost. One woman would sound like she was speaking in another language and would bounce back and forth off of the pews like she was a pinball in a pinball machine. Now that was entertainment to me! At other times some of the women would shout right out of their wigs. Their wigs would go one way and they would go another.

Singing? Well, it was beginning to fill my soul. I loved it! Surely my daddy would let me join the choir. What trouble could I get in? It was God’s house. I would be safe. I went home so excited. Finally, I would get to do something. I eagerly approached my daddy and asked him if I could be in the choir. To my surprise, he told me no. I began to beg and plead. I asked why not? I cried and cried. I tried to convince him that nothing would happen. I would be safe. He tired of my crying and begging; from there I got a nice beating. How could my daddy say no to something for God? I guess as a child I thought he believed in God. Come to think of it, I never heard him say the word God, Jesus, or anything remotely acknowledging any higher power. We never went to church as a family. It was by some chance that I don’t remember that I began to go to church. My mother went. As I reflect back into my childhood, I don’t think that he wanted my mother to go to church either. Well, after all of that, he decided, okay, you can be in the choir. I guess he felt