The Holy spirit isn't in the bible.
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This looks like it has turned into a dream sharing thread 
May I?
I had this dream twenty two years ago, long before I became a Christian.
Walking down Mary Street to get to the family picnic, when I got caught in a downpour. The rain was coming down very hard from the east and as I was on the west side of the street I could seek no shelter from the buildings. I started running with my coat pulled up over my head for protection and experienced a short moment of lucidity to wonder how my legs were staying dry with my coat pulled up so far. It was dark, and I passed King Street (going south) and then realized I did not know where I was so I turned around and went back to King Street.
Then I was walking along a rural road, where there were all these small trees or large bushes with huge pumpkin-sized apples growing on them. It was no longer dark, but perhaps twilight or dusk. I wanted one or two of these apples, though not many were growing on each bush. I came upon a wise woman/sage who was sitting in front of her house. I asked if I could have one of hers', and she directed me further along to a spot where a few people were gathered for the same purpose. Some guy got ahead of me and picked the one that I had my eye on; it was so dark it looked black, and was shaped like a huge pepper. I went back to the wise woman.
She was still seated, conversing with a younger woman who was combing or brushing her hair. I noticed it was green and very much like fern fronds or small split leaf philodendron leaves. She had it in a ponytail on top of her head, and as she brushed it, it fell from the pony and lay normally about her shoulders. The young woman started walking away in the direction from which I had come, and when I asked the sage again for an apple, the young woman turned around and told me I would get the magentas (as if it were the runs! lol). I responded that I had already eaten some of my first apple (I was carrying one under my left arm) and that I experienced no ill effects, and besides that, magenta was my favourite colour and that I had grown up eating lots of different kinds of apples as a child.
The sage instructed me to wait. Then her husband came out of her house, and I was shocked to realize He was the Judge, though He was not wearing His judicial robes. They invited me inside. He started reading, or reciting a story, and the whole room and especially the wall behind the couch they were sitting on, lit up as if on fire. I felt no fear nor heat, but was concerned for the awareness of three small creatures that were in the room with us, for it seemed to me that the Judge and His wise woman wife were making love. Then He continued with the reading of the story and I could "see" or was visualizing the appropriate corresponding images. While He was reading I also saw a word, it was PROSE, but the "O" was an "A" and it had His face on it with a piece of an apple superimposed over it. It loomed large before me. I saw other words, too, all with the "O"s changed to "A"s. I awoke in ecstatic tears.
Around this time I was attending Friday morning breakfast meetings; each week they would feature a different spiritual healer, teacher, or practitioner. It was really quite handy being just around the corner from where I worked, so I could stay for the full teaching and then zip around the corner to be at work by nine thirty, which was my regular starting time. I had a friend visiting from out of town and she was interested in going, so we went together. I hadn't been for a few weeks.
The teacher that morning was some kind of a shaman, a woman named Ariadne, who among other things told this story about being held up in the airport and some fantastic series of events happening that included peppers spilling down the luggage chute at the terminal. I was distracted and not paying a lot of attention, day dreaming out the window lol. She asked if anyone had anything to share having to do with peppers. She asked and asked and nobody responded. The meeting ended. I went to work, and then my friend and I went out for breakfast. She had me go through this series of questions that were designed to boil down to something essential about yourself in one word. The word I ended up with was spark, and it seemed to fit with a poem I had written that I had been thinking about a lot at that time, called My Vital Spark. La di dah lol. Breakfast ended. Back to work I went.
During the day I came across this beautiful picture of a rose with a spider and web in it, or near it, maybe behind or off to the side of this lovely lush pink rose. Some of you may know that in Greek myth, Ariadne used yarn to help her lover find his way out of the labyrinth after slaying the minotaur at the heart of the labyrinth. Why this picture made me think of her I do not know, perhaps the yarn associated with a spider's web, I am not sure, but it did, and I was seized with the desire to give Ariadne the shaman a copy of it. I went around the corner on my afternoon break, and the owner was there (I knew her) and she preferred for me to wait and give Ariadne the picture myself, saying she had simply gone for coffee and would be back shortly. So I waited.
When Ariadne arrived a little while later, she was quite pleased to receive my gift and then one thing led to another and I started telling her about my dream. She was flabbergasted and demanded to know why I had not spoken up that morning when she was asking for anyone that had anything to share regarding peppers. It ended with her insisting I be the guest of honour at that night's special meeting where I was to tell my dream, for it included many elements that she was actually looking for. Yikes. But it was exciting too. So I went. Some people were incredulous that I could remember my dreams so well. One man in particular spoke to me as if I was some kind of a charlatan. It was weird, like I was a plant in the audience or something, he was so unbelieving of my experience. So sad, too bad. Moving on, I was to recite my Vital Spark poem at the end of the evening. I laugh to remember all this now. But it really was fun and kind of exciting, to step so far out of my comfort zone. Just so you know, I had to get out my reading glasses and painfully figure out what was written twenty some years ago on a piece of paper that is ripped on the folds and the ink is fading haha. I have always kept this copy of that dream in a container on my side board. I knew exactly where it was. I will share the poem here with you now. I know it by heart
My Vital Spark
I tried to shield this heart from love
To spare myself the pain
Forlorn indeed I fell
And this endeavor wrought my shame
Because I could not face the depths
Of feelings you inspired
I ran away
How could I know I'd burn
In hell's vile fire?
I tried to pick the pieces up
. . . Abysmal
. . . . . . Broken
. . . . . . . . . Charred
A semblance of normality
I worked for very hard
Thusly mired I struggled
Both to end and attain flight
Striving to excise the wound
And cease my despaired light
But always irrevocably
Your image came to bear
My being strained to fill the void
With love I could not share
Ever present buried deep
Within my tortured soul
My love lay pining
Hidden from a world which seemed so cold
How could I have so erred in life
To plainly lose my way
Ignoring my emotive will
Keeping my self at bay
By thinking I'd be happy
In fulfilling others' hearts
Relentless death crept on me
And eclipsed my vital spark
May I? I had this dream twenty two years ago, long before I became a Christian.
Walking down Mary Street to get to the family picnic, when I got caught in a downpour. The rain was coming down very hard from the east and as I was on the west side of the street I could seek no shelter from the buildings. I started running with my coat pulled up over my head for protection and experienced a short moment of lucidity to wonder how my legs were staying dry with my coat pulled up so far. It was dark, and I passed King Street (going south) and then realized I did not know where I was so I turned around and went back to King Street.
Then I was walking along a rural road, where there were all these small trees or large bushes with huge pumpkin-sized apples growing on them. It was no longer dark, but perhaps twilight or dusk. I wanted one or two of these apples, though not many were growing on each bush. I came upon a wise woman/sage who was sitting in front of her house. I asked if I could have one of hers', and she directed me further along to a spot where a few people were gathered for the same purpose. Some guy got ahead of me and picked the one that I had my eye on; it was so dark it looked black, and was shaped like a huge pepper. I went back to the wise woman.
She was still seated, conversing with a younger woman who was combing or brushing her hair. I noticed it was green and very much like fern fronds or small split leaf philodendron leaves. She had it in a ponytail on top of her head, and as she brushed it, it fell from the pony and lay normally about her shoulders. The young woman started walking away in the direction from which I had come, and when I asked the sage again for an apple, the young woman turned around and told me I would get the magentas (as if it were the runs! lol). I responded that I had already eaten some of my first apple (I was carrying one under my left arm) and that I experienced no ill effects, and besides that, magenta was my favourite colour and that I had grown up eating lots of different kinds of apples as a child.
The sage instructed me to wait. Then her husband came out of her house, and I was shocked to realize He was the Judge, though He was not wearing His judicial robes. They invited me inside. He started reading, or reciting a story, and the whole room and especially the wall behind the couch they were sitting on, lit up as if on fire. I felt no fear nor heat, but was concerned for the awareness of three small creatures that were in the room with us, for it seemed to me that the Judge and His wise woman wife were making love. Then He continued with the reading of the story and I could "see" or was visualizing the appropriate corresponding images. While He was reading I also saw a word, it was PROSE, but the "O" was an "A" and it had His face on it with a piece of an apple superimposed over it. It loomed large before me. I saw other words, too, all with the "O"s changed to "A"s. I awoke in ecstatic tears.
Around this time I was attending Friday morning breakfast meetings; each week they would feature a different spiritual healer, teacher, or practitioner. It was really quite handy being just around the corner from where I worked, so I could stay for the full teaching and then zip around the corner to be at work by nine thirty, which was my regular starting time. I had a friend visiting from out of town and she was interested in going, so we went together. I hadn't been for a few weeks.
The teacher that morning was some kind of a shaman, a woman named Ariadne, who among other things told this story about being held up in the airport and some fantastic series of events happening that included peppers spilling down the luggage chute at the terminal. I was distracted and not paying a lot of attention, day dreaming out the window lol. She asked if anyone had anything to share having to do with peppers. She asked and asked and nobody responded. The meeting ended. I went to work, and then my friend and I went out for breakfast. She had me go through this series of questions that were designed to boil down to something essential about yourself in one word. The word I ended up with was spark, and it seemed to fit with a poem I had written that I had been thinking about a lot at that time, called My Vital Spark. La di dah lol. Breakfast ended. Back to work I went.
During the day I came across this beautiful picture of a rose with a spider and web in it, or near it, maybe behind or off to the side of this lovely lush pink rose. Some of you may know that in Greek myth, Ariadne used yarn to help her lover find his way out of the labyrinth after slaying the minotaur at the heart of the labyrinth. Why this picture made me think of her I do not know, perhaps the yarn associated with a spider's web, I am not sure, but it did, and I was seized with the desire to give Ariadne the shaman a copy of it. I went around the corner on my afternoon break, and the owner was there (I knew her) and she preferred for me to wait and give Ariadne the picture myself, saying she had simply gone for coffee and would be back shortly. So I waited.
When Ariadne arrived a little while later, she was quite pleased to receive my gift and then one thing led to another and I started telling her about my dream. She was flabbergasted and demanded to know why I had not spoken up that morning when she was asking for anyone that had anything to share regarding peppers. It ended with her insisting I be the guest of honour at that night's special meeting where I was to tell my dream, for it included many elements that she was actually looking for. Yikes. But it was exciting too. So I went. Some people were incredulous that I could remember my dreams so well. One man in particular spoke to me as if I was some kind of a charlatan. It was weird, like I was a plant in the audience or something, he was so unbelieving of my experience. So sad, too bad. Moving on, I was to recite my Vital Spark poem at the end of the evening. I laugh to remember all this now. But it really was fun and kind of exciting, to step so far out of my comfort zone. Just so you know, I had to get out my reading glasses and painfully figure out what was written twenty some years ago on a piece of paper that is ripped on the folds and the ink is fading haha. I have always kept this copy of that dream in a container on my side board. I knew exactly where it was. I will share the poem here with you now. I know it by heart
My Vital Spark
I tried to shield this heart from love
To spare myself the pain
Forlorn indeed I fell
And this endeavor wrought my shame
Because I could not face the depths
Of feelings you inspired
I ran away
How could I know I'd burn
In hell's vile fire?
I tried to pick the pieces up
. . . Abysmal
. . . . . . Broken
. . . . . . . . . Charred
A semblance of normality
I worked for very hard
Thusly mired I struggled
Both to end and attain flight
Striving to excise the wound
And cease my despaired light
But always irrevocably
Your image came to bear
My being strained to fill the void
With love I could not share
Ever present buried deep
Within my tortured soul
My love lay pining
Hidden from a world which seemed so cold
How could I have so erred in life
To plainly lose my way
Ignoring my emotive will
Keeping my self at bay
By thinking I'd be happy
In fulfilling others' hearts
Relentless death crept on me
And eclipsed my vital spark
I'm sorry, angel, but Sonja is NOT an angel of God. She more than likely is a fallen angel. You tell alot of tales on here about your wild experiences with angels, and I don't buy into any of it. Either you are delusional, deceived or you have a vivid imagination and too much time on your hands. You are not only spewing heresy here, but blasphemy also..
People would have no problem in believing me if I said Sonja was a demon. People find it easy to believe in demons manifesting to individuals. But people find it extremely unlikely that an angel would manifest to a human. I think the reason for that is this. People get demon manifestations from doing evil. the more evil one does the more demonic manifestations one gets. If more people had abandoned themselves in praising the Lord in the dance, and had gotten caught away in the spirit every single service for decades, perhaps they too would experience what I"ve experienced. however, I think I'm a forerunner of what's to come to the church, for various reasons. I believe one day angels will manifest themselves to many perhaps most perhaps all christians when got pours out his spirit in these last days. it's gotta start somewhere.
Wow... I cannot believe some threads on here sometimes... The longest threads are usually the ones that are full of discord, sarcasm, criticism and just a whole load of time wasting.... The shortest threads are usually them that are full of grace and truth... Just a little rebuke there for u all. In love xx
Is Matthew 28:19 Spurious
do you consider 1 john 5.7 to be genuine?
Feel I have been ignored....I know there are a lot of posts but I did ask you a sincere question.
You talk a lot about angels, but what is your take on Jesus? Is He the object of your worship? I believe that angel play a part in taking care of us in that they watch over us, protecting and keeping satan's evil angels at bay especially when we pray and ask God for protection.
I know that angels are messengers of God and that the good angels will never speak against God's word but will uphold it and every time someone tried to bow down to them they would say don't do so worship God....
So how does Sonja compare to that?
I know that angels are messengers of God and that the good angels will never speak against God's word but will uphold it and every time someone tried to bow down to them they would say don't do so worship God....
So how does Sonja compare to that?
Psalm 82:1 God presides in the great assembly; he renders judgment among the "gods":
god is in the midst of my angel friends. and as they reflect the glory of the Lord they turn into Jesus.
I'll admit I've written some rather lengthy ones lately, and have been encouraged by some others I've seen as well,
(though some REALLY long ones, generally dominated by the one who started the OP, don't impress me in the least, they're usually by some intellectual blowhard who doesn't believe in or care about Jesus, anyhow),
generally ours have been in attempts to counter the short, nicey-sounding posts of LIES that have been getting puked all over what's supposed to be a christian site.
I'd rather have somebody take the time to explain the TRUTH than to just toss a quick grenade of LIES where the shrapnel then flies and causes extensive damage,
then the grenade throwers sit and snicker behind the scenes at others trying to clean up after their filthy mess of false doctrines, false accusations, and phony niceyness.
LOVE speaks the truth, but it isn't always pretty,
and sometimes it takes patience and perseverence,
especially when it's trying to undo the enemies damage.
But it's far better than lies couched in flowery nice-isms
or quick-snickering arrogance, no matter how 'short and sweet'.
God bless and protect you as you seek Him along the way.
(though some REALLY long ones, generally dominated by the one who started the OP, don't impress me in the least, they're usually by some intellectual blowhard who doesn't believe in or care about Jesus, anyhow),
generally ours have been in attempts to counter the short, nicey-sounding posts of LIES that have been getting puked all over what's supposed to be a christian site.
I'd rather have somebody take the time to explain the TRUTH than to just toss a quick grenade of LIES where the shrapnel then flies and causes extensive damage,
then the grenade throwers sit and snicker behind the scenes at others trying to clean up after their filthy mess of false doctrines, false accusations, and phony niceyness.
LOVE speaks the truth, but it isn't always pretty,
and sometimes it takes patience and perseverence,
especially when it's trying to undo the enemies damage.
But it's far better than lies couched in flowery nice-isms
or quick-snickering arrogance, no matter how 'short and sweet'.
God bless and protect you as you seek Him along the way.
Female Angels?
I don't believe angels are male or female, I believe angels can manifest either way. Angels are spirits and they don't have genders.