The letters... reaching out to the body of Christ... longing to find friends... and not finding any... being rejected instead...

       I don’t know where to begin or what to say to explain this parcel of writings to you; but if I have learned anything in him, it is to experience that not-knowing is a good place to be in: there being space in my head there for him to fill with what to do and say; and I only depend on him for everything because I have nothing.     One year before we were called out of the system and the institution of the church, twenty years ago, the pastor paused in the middle of his Sunday sermon for a moment. He seemed to be listening as he turned his head and looked out at the congregation over by the windows to his right. He then looked straight at me and said something which made me long for the floor to open up, and for me to disappear down it, out of sight. He said, “You are going to write a book!” Being as he had never stopped in mid speech before and spoken out to anyone like that, it was scary. Two days later he phoned me, and told me that he needed to tell me again what the Lord had given him to say, that I was to write a book. This man didn’t know anything about me, and I had never had a conversation with him before; nor had I, in my adult life ever written a book, or anything like it, except the occasional letter; so it was very strange.      But, a few weeks later, I began to keep a diary. I began to record the things which my beloved was teaching me in my spirit through the things which I suffered. And as soon as I began this diary his intimate love and inner instruction grew and grew.      Now twenty one years later, I have written five books; all unpublished; and all different. I never felt to attempt to get anything published; who would publish them anyway? Not being of the world they would mostly be an embarrassment to the world; especially the second book, which is enclosed in this parcel, and why I am writing this accompanying letter.     About six weeks ago or more, I suddenly remembered the pastor who had unbeknownst to him initiated my many years of writing. After that phone conversation I never had opportunity to talk with him again. And a year later we were driven out of the Spirit out of his church, and were never again able to enter another one, of any shape or form; for the LORD, himself, spued us out, even as he promised he would. (Revelation 3: 16) And we were taken out.  The pastor’s name had suddenly come to my mind; and I have been trying to find him, through the internet to inform him of the book; to perhaps reassure him; but my searches have been in vain.
     After having waited five years, (the book was originally written in 2010,) I finally pleaded with my beloved about what to do with it. Immediately I realized it needed to be edited; and carried farther by additional pages. This having been recently completed, I then received further direction. For very unexpectedly I was given an inner picture of my homeland, Wales; where I was born and grew up; (my family comes from the Rhondda Valleys of South Wales in the United Kingdom, where long ago there was a great revival ;) and I found myself looking through a list of historical articles about the Welsh Revival.     As I searched I was filled with hoping and longing to find someone, somewhere, anywhere, with whom I could share the angel’s book. I knew no one who would welcome it. No one except one recent friend, Ray Scott, in Wellington; he is the only person who has kept a copy of the original book; of which there were four; he is the only person who hasn’t rejected it. Many years ago Ray was a pastor (and for sixteen years ;) but he, too, was called out, and he has worked as a mechanic and a firewood cutter and a plasterer ever since.     I was very surprised to find myself looking through that list of articles, because I have not read any Christian writings, or sermons, or any Christian books, (on paper or screen,) for fourteen years now; he took them all away during a severe breakdown, and left me with nothing except one Bible, and one Concordance, in all these years. But while I was looking through that one single list I came across one written by you; and I was touched. You seemed to understand. And then I looked through two more. And I began to hope. Maybe there was someone who could read little book, and not refuse it, and preach its message?
     During the past twenty years without the camp (Hebrews 13: 13) I have just raised our children and homeschooled them; and with none of the distractions of churchianity been in his presence continually, learning in him in going through breakdown after breakdown; and losing all my knowledge and what I thought I knew; losing and being torn down till there was nothing of me left. And with no teacher but him, and no shepherd but him, and no literature but him, and even no friends but him, he has been and is, my all; and I have been made rich, thereby. Where there is space for him, he fills it; where there is room for him, he lives and breathes there; and if a man would give all that he had for love, it would be utterly contemned; I am nothing. 

With much love and hope,

                                                                                 P.S. There are only three copies of the 2015 little book; one is enclosed with this letter for you; one for Ray Scott, who is so broken he doesn’t preach anymore; and one for my youngest son. I found the two other dear and precious men of God through your website; their words touched me, also; perhaps you would share with them the angel’s book. There exists a digital copy which could be emailed as a pdf and printed out.  

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