The Gospel of Elohim

By M.E. Grant

The title The Gospel of Elohim was given to Maurice by God in the year 2020. Talking to God started at a very young age, about six years old. At that time, God introduced Himself to Maurice but never told him His name nor did any church he attended make any mention that God had a name. As his relationship grew with God, he always knew something was missing but was never quite sure what he was looking for. As his friends began to develop and be released in their gifts with God, Maurice was sure that God would release him so that he could begin to share the things God was sharing with him. Not true. Instead, God kept showing him more and more thing but never releasing him to share his knowledge. One day in his thirties, he heard a song singing the different names of God names he had never heard before. Though he now knew God had different names, no one really talked about these names. As Maurice visited different churches, he saw these names on many walls but no one explained these names. God was not through with him yet. He took him through many more trials and reveal more things but still had not revealed His name. One day, Maurice was now in his sixties, God spoke to Maurice and told him he had to learn Hebrew, but with no teacher. Maurice went about the slow process of putting the pieces together, learning Hebrew. One day, after many months of learning the alphabets of the Hebrew language, Maurice opened a Bible and, for the first time, read the first verse of Genesis 1, and there it was, in the beginning created Elohim, the first name mention of God in the Bible. Now through the book of Elohim, in these last days, Elohim wanted to introduce His church the name of their God Elohi

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Jan 11, 2022
• ISBN: 9781639617739

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The Gospel of Elohim

M.E. Grant

Copyright © 2021 by M.E. Grant

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.

832 Park Avenue

Meadville, PA 16335

www.christianfaithpublishing.com

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

How the Old Testament of the Bible Was Written

Elohim in the Torah (Law)

Lord God or Jehovah Elohim in the Torah

The Serpent

Eve’s Deception and Adam’s Sin

Transgression and Sin of the Family of Adam and Eve

The Divided Church

Introduction

I’m writing this book called The Gospel of Elohim, but I must warn you from the beginning: if you are someone whose only goal is to read a spiritual book, this book is not for you. The Gospel of Elohim is also not for those of you who want to prove one religion is right and the other religions are wrong. I am afraid you will be extremely disappointed. I must continue to give a warning to anyone who is thinking about becoming a Christian but what is holding you back is that you cannot decide which denomination or non-denomination is the right one for you to join. This book is not for you. The Gospel of Elohim is for anyone who wants to have a personal relationship with the God of heaven and earth. Yes, a personal relationship with God. For if you are one of those believers like me who wants to have a personal relationship with God, this book is for you. For The Gospel of Elohim is a brief synopsis of my life starting at the young age of five when God first spoke to me and expanding into manhood through the age of sixties and how He led me not to find a religion but to know and have a personal relationship with God, the Creator of heaven and earth, whom I finally got to know as Elohim, and to understand the devil who wants to rob us of our true inheritance from Elohim.

My story begins in the state of Arkansas with my mother who was a godly woman, but she was not perfect—no one is, including me. But she took my sister who is six years older than me, my brother who is three years older than me, and myself to Sunday school and church every Sunday starting when we were all infants. I know this because when I was around seven, I was alone with my mother one day, and she explained why she took us all to church every Sunday. Her story was that because her mother died before my mother had any children, my mother did not feel, without her mother’s guidance, that she had the adequate knowledge to raise children. Therefore, she prayed to God—starting with the birth of my sister and each child thereafter—stating to God that she would dedicate her children to Him if He would help her raise us. I guess that is why God talked to me at age five, which is when my personal relationship with God began. But I feel I must say this first: I am glad that my mother asked God to help raise us, but I must warn anyone: before you pray to God to help to raise your children, you need to prepare yourself for what your children may go through!

After God talked to me that day when I was around five, He left me with a strange gift. The gift was that I could understand anything that I read in English, whether on TV, in a book, and especially in the Bible. I was so good at reading and understanding the Bible that in Sunday school, after the age of six, when my class would advance to each new grade level in Sunday school, I was made the teacher of that class. After teaching about two years, at the age of eight, I decided I need to read through the Bible completely.

That was the hardest thing I ever had to do. It took me an entire month to get past Genesis chapter 1 because I kept getting so sleepy. After about five months, I finally got to a point where I was not as sleepy as before, and I could read a chapter a day. Into the seventh month of reading, I finally got to a point where I could read with ease without getting sleepy. The entire ordeal took about one and a half years to read from Genesis to Revelation. Little did I understand at that young age: this was a marathon, not a sprint. And that day when I finished the book of Revelation, that was the beginning of a journey that has changed my life forever.

I remember when I was about nine, my church had a five-night revival, and the minister that preached those five nights was a blind minister. I cannot remember his name, nor his sermons, but what stood out those nights, he preached to about seven people seeking to come to Jesus. Though he preached for five nights straight, not one person wanted to accept Christ. So on the last night, since no one had accepted Christ, our pastor, then a Rev. Miller, decided to end the revival. Well, this sounds like a sad story, but what happened next was only God.

My sister, who was about fifteen and had not attended any of the revival that week, walked through the back doors of the church and started singing, "Only believe, only believe, all things are possible if you only believe." As she sang for about three minutes, that blind minister was moved by the anointing of God. He arose and preached for five more minutes, and after that, all seven people came to the Lord that night. That was my first time seeing the anointing of God move on people. It was later in life that I asked my sister why she sang that particular song that night. Her explanation was that she was at home. God told her to get up and go to revival, and while on her way to church, He placed that song in her heart and that she would need to sing that song when she arrived at church that night. My God is awesome.

At the age of ten, I finally decided to accept Christ as my Lord and Savior, along with ten of my friends. But as time went by, I began to notice that my brother, who had accepted Christ at the age of twelve, was starting to attend church less and less. It would be years later that he explained to me why—because one evening in a church meeting, he overheard a visiting minister tell another visiting minister that he was planning to have an inappropriate relationship with one of the young women in the church we attended. This action wounded his faith, and he became an atheist. Thank God that is not where that story ended. I will expound later in this introduction.

I kept reading, teaching, and talking to God. The more I read, taught, and talked to God, the more questions kept running through my mind that something was missing. So at the age of twelve, I asked God this question: How could I be sure I was really talking to God? This is when I found out God has a sense of humor. What I thought God’s response would be was to send an angel and would perform some kind of manifestation to me as He did to Gideon in Judges 6:12–21. That is not what happened because as soon as I said, How could I be sure I was really talking to God? God’s instant response to me was this: Either you are talking to Me or you are crazy because you are talking to someone you cannot see. I laughed for about five minutes for I knew I was not crazy, so I had to be talking to God.

You would think I had learned my lesson after the last question? Not me. About three months later, I had another question for God. Here is the question I asked God: How do I know You are the God of the Bible and not just a spirit I am talking to? Now remember, I said God has a sense of humor. This is what God said: Either I am the God of the Bible or you are the biggest liar in town because you keep telling people you talk to God. I was undone. Either I had to quit telling people I talked to God or accept He was the God of the Bible who I was talking to. I still laugh from time to time when I think about God’s answers to me.

Two years have passed, and I started to play high school football.

My mother came to me one day and said, I want you to know that I have asked God to watch over you while you play football. I said I was just taking it for granted, not really understanding the power of prayer and how it would affect me the rest of my life. Two more years passed.

I am now sixteen. Christmas has passed. We just celebrated New Year. My sister is now home teaching school, and my brother has been home for Christmas break from the college in Kentucky he was attending. A few days later, my parents had purchased him a bus ticket to return to college, and they asked me to take him to the bus station and see him off. Returning home just in time to see our father leave for work that evening, I did not know that would be the last time I would see him alive. About one hour later, we got a phone call from the police department stating that our father was dead. In disbelief, my mother asked if I would call my brother and give him the news.

There were no cell phones then, so I had to wait about five hours till he made it back to school before I could call the school to let him know our father had died. I remember how happy my brother sounded when he came to the phone. He said, Hey, bro, what’s happening?

I said with a broken voice, You need to come home. Daddy has died.

He paused and said, No, I just left my father and he was alive.

I said, I know, but you must come home. Daddy’s dead. Little did I know, this tragedy would be a turning point in all my family’s life.

After the funeral, I had a question about my father, so I went to my father’s first cousin, who was also the assistant pastor of our church, but we just called him Cousin Dove. The reason I had a question was though my father didn’t attend church, he read his Bible, prayed, helped his neighbors, never allowed us to talk unfavorable about anyone, for he told us, If you cannot say anything good about someone, do not say anything at all. He never tried to stop us from going to church, and I am sure he and my mother had arguments, but they never argued in front of us children nor was he violent toward her or us. Therefore, my question was why didn’t my father attend church?

Cousin Dove pulled me aside and explained that before any of us children were born, my father faithfully attended another church. As a matter of fact, he kept the church records and finance of that church. One day, Cousin Dove said, that someone in the church who my father trusted tried to mishandle the finance and tried to accuse my father of the deed while they were still in the finance room. My father slammed his hands on the finance book and said, No one is leaving the room till we find the missing money. He finally found that the very person whom he trusted and was trying to accuse him of stealing was really the culprit. My father was so hurt by that incident that he never returned to church again till the day he died. That story had a lasting effect on me for though my father lost faith in the church, he never lost faith in God.

It was at that time I realized how short life can be. I had missed my chance to tell my father that I loved him and would never get a chance to speak those words to him again. Therefore, from that day forward, year after year, and any time I left any family member or close friend, I would always speak these words: I love you. I would, especially, say these words to my mother if I called her on the phone. I would end our conversation with this same simple phrase: I love you. Whenever I would visit her and every time I left the house, I would say, I love you. I said these words to her so much day after day and year after year that, one day, many years after I had begun my ritual, to my surprise, instead of my mother giving me her usual response, I love you too, she spoke the words that would become a catch phrase to anyone who was a part of our family. To this day, when someone in our family says the words I love you, the catch phrase response is I love you more!

Well, another year passed, and I graduated from high school. I earned a scholarship to play football at a small college in my state of Arkansas.

Now in college, as I played football, I was becoming a rising football star. Around the age of eighteen, I am still seeking God, but I must say, going to college, there is a lot of temptation. I did try to rebel a little, and I started doing some things I should not have been doing. If you remember, I wrote earlier that if you ask God to help raise your children, you need to prepare yourself for what your children might go through. Well, it was my sophomore year. I was in football practice, and in my rebellious state, something very insignificant happened to me. I jammed my thumb. I went to the football trainer. He wrapped my wrist and thumb for extra support; not a big deal, I thought. What happened next, I will always remember. I returned to practice. I was a defense end on my football team, and we were scrimmaging against the offense. They ran a sweep to my side of the defense. I was about to tackle the running back when I reached out my taped wrist and hand. The tape on my wrist exploded with a loud sound and detached from my hand and wrist. And in that very moment, I felt a sharp pain go through my wrist, and the voice of God spoke to me again and said these words: Just as I have placed My hand on