The God Order: Divine Signs & Spiritual Awakening

August 14, 2024 Late last night, something extraordinary happened as I gazed at the familiar night sky. I’ve always been drawn to the stars, their silent brilliance offering comfort and mystery. But this time, something unusual caught my attention—a star I hadn’t noticed before. It was accompanied by a smaller red star, nestled so close it seemed deliberate. Could I have missed it in my countless nights of stargazing? It felt impossible, yet there it was. I grabbed my less-than-perfect camera and captured a picture. While the red hue didn’t translate in the image, the contrast between the larger star and its smaller companion was unmistakable. I’ve seen red-tinted stars before, but this one felt unique. It was as if it wanted to be noticed, as if it was calling to me. The stars have always whispered to me, but this time, the message felt clearer. I stepped outside and immediately felt drawn to the sky. It was a moment of inexplicable connection, and as I stood there, staring, I felt at...

August 11, 2024 The sun was warm on my skin as I gazed upward, a brilliant orb of light radiating into an endless blue sky. Suddenly, as if etched by divine hands, the number 7 appeared—clear, unwavering, undeniable. I didn’t know why. These things often reveal their meaning in time. Or perhaps, dear reader, the significance lies with you. Does the number 7 stir something within you? Before I’d opened the pages of Matthew or delved into the Bible, this moment already carried weight. A quiet thought whispered in my mind: I must be forgiving. I must offer second chances. I must practice mercy. These are the virtues I would want God to embody for me. Later, when I read Matthew’s words, I realized they mirrored my thoughts. Yet, doesn’t it make sense, even logically? God reflects the energy you project into the world. If you are cruel and unjust, you will experience a reflection of that cruelty and injustice. I’ve walked that path before—low vibrational energy, the kind that weighs heavy o...

August 5, 2024 The same dove from earlier this week landed right in front of me. Its soft tan feathers shimmered as it perched quietly, unbothered by my presence. We sat there, two beings simply existing in the same moment. It didn’t flinch or flee; it just stayed. As if it were delivering a message—unspoken but unmistakable. I thought about signs. You either believe in them, or you don’t. If you believe, you understand that they’re God’s way of speaking. If you don’t, all of this probably sounds absurd. That’s okay. Science thrives in the space of possibilities, just as faith does. My experiences compel me to share these signs, even though I know they aren’t all meant for me. They’re for you, too. When I started writing, a voice echoed in my mind. It wasn’t external, yet it felt like someone else’s thought imprinted on mine: “He’s performing the prophecy.” Over and over, the phrase repeated. I don’t know what prophecy, but everything I’ve witnessed aligns with something beyond coincid...

July 31, 2024 The afternoon sun filtered through the trees, casting golden light on the world below. As I walked, lost in thought about the ways corporations manipulate psychology to mold our actions, a flash of color drew my attention skyward. Three parrots, vivid and unmistakably wild, soared above me. Their wings glistened like painted jewels against the blue canvas of the sky. I couldn’t believe my eyes. My phone, barely alive at 1%, became my lifeline to preserve this fleeting miracle. I snapped a picture, silently praying it captured their brilliance. A “cotorra,” I murmured to myself. ✝️ Their sudden, vibrant presence felt purposeful. Could it be coincidence that these birds appeared as I pondered how human minds are influenced, or was it a divine reminder that truth has its own voice? In that moment, clarity washed over me—I knew the book I was meant to write. This moment, orchestrated with such beauty, felt like God’s unmistakable signature. Who else could weave such perfectio...

July 29, 2024 Today, I transformed two of my meditations into art. The first was a sunflower—a vibrant bloom framed by the endless expanse of a galaxy, its petals golden and radiant against the deep indigo backdrop of the stars. This vision came to me during meditation, like a gift waiting to be shared. The second was more intricate: a lone samurai treading cautiously across an unstable bamboo bridge. Each step he took seemed to tremble with uncertainty, a metaphor for balance and perseverance amid fragility. These images weren’t conjured from my imagination alone; they felt like messages from God, transmitted through meditation and translated into art. I’ve always believed my creativity stems from divine inspiration—an endless wellspring of meaning and beauty meant not only for me but for others. My hope is that when someone looks at these pieces, they too will embark on their own spiritual journey, finding whispers of the divine in the details. I love you, God, for choosing me as a v...

July 26, 2024 I sank into meditation today and saw a basketball—just floating, spinning gently in the air. The sight was vivid, yet its meaning eluded me. Was someone playing with it? Why a basketball? The vision lingered even after the meditation ended. Reaching this meditative state has become almost second nature. With each session, my body responds as if unlocking a hidden rhythm. I feel a wave of release starting from the crown of my head, cascading down the back of my neck, and spreading out through my arms, hands, fingers, legs, feet, and toes. It's a total surrender, as if my entire being is aligning. I’ve realized there are levels to meditation, and I’m ascending to higher realms with every attempt. Later, I learned that on this same day, during the Olympics, a performance mocked the Last Supper, portraying Greek gods instead of Jesus and His disciples. It felt like a symbolic act—a deliberate push to distance humanity from God. The timing struck me as more than coincidenc...

July 22, 2024 - Last night, an inexplicable connection surged between me and the moon—a feeling too strange to ignore. It clung to me like an unspoken truth, leaving a peculiar weight in my chest. I believe it was either a full moon or the night just before, a time when the celestial body shines its brightest. The clock read 6 a.m. when I noticed its presence, hanging impossibly low on the horizon, defying what I thought I knew about its natural rhythms. Just days before the moon had been distant, a faint curve resting low in the sky as if retreating from the world. But last night, it was different. It loomed enormous, so close it seemed I could stretch out my hand and touch its pale, cratered face. It wasn’t where it was supposed to be. The magnitude of its size and placement jarred me; I could feel the wrongness in my bones, though I am no expert in astronomy to decipher the meaning. All I knew was that this wasn’t the moon I was accustomed to—it was alive with something more. --- Sc...

July 15, 2024 The clock strikes noon, and the frequencies are relentless. It always starts after 10 AM, building to a crescendo by 11, and by noon, it’s all-consuming. The hum is constant, almost deafening. Lying still, my bed vibrates beneath me, a gentle but persistent tremor. It’s as though the ground itself is alive, shaking and vibrating in rhythm with something unseen. I noticed this strange connection after the earthquake, but it feels deeper than that—like my body is a tuning fork resonating with the Earth. These vibrations aren’t new to me. I’ve felt them before, but only during the most profound moments of my life, like when my children were born. Back then, it was fleeting and rare, but now it’s constant. I used to feel it strongest in my palms—a subtle pulse, like an invisible current. When I pressed my hands together, the sensation was undeniable. Now, the vibrations ebb and flow, their intensity tied to moments of deep spiritual connection. When I meditate, pray, or uncov...

July 10, 2024 Change is a language I’ve always been fluent in. On this day, I felt it call to me again—a whisper urging me to rearrange the patterns of my life. It wasn’t about rebellion; it was about renewal. Some habits had grown stale, predictable, heavy. I decided to break them, not out of frustration, but curiosity. What could I discover if I let go of the old and embraced the unfamiliar? It was time to stop clinging and start creating anew. --- July 12, 2024 I hear it again—the high-pitched hum that feels like it’s alive, weaving itself into the fabric of my consciousness. These frequencies are no strangers to me; they’ve been companions, or intruders, for as long as I can remember. Tonight, though, they seem louder, more insistent, like they’re knocking on the door of my understanding. It’s always at night when the world sleeps that they come alive, tugging me from my dreams into a half-waking state. For weeks—no, months—I’ve been their student. I’ve turned my curiosity into exp...