Gossip can destroy a soul the same as putting a gun to his or her head

One night our pastor visited us. He was concerned about the gossip among friend and foe alike, pertaining to our leaving the hospital etceteras. Rumors were spreading that our daughter wouldn’t live because we took her home from the hospital without our doctor’s consent, and IF she did live, she would be a “vegetable” the rest of her life. Rumors are vicious things, often with no foundation. Gossip is one of Satan’s best weapons, and he uses it with great skill. It’s a shame so many of us fall prey to this evil.

It was true, however, that we released our doctor when we heard the neurologist’s counsel concerning her test results. We felt our doctor, a minister in our own church, had called in the most respected neurologist in the area for consultation. “No doctor disagrees with or counters this specialist,” the head nurse told me; and I felt we had something by which to gauge what was really happening. To my disappointment, our doctor not only disagreed with, but challenged his diagnosis for food and rest. Food and rest had been God’s counsel also as indicated through administration.

Our doctor told us he wanted to keep Melissa in the hospital three days and if there was no change in her condition (which there wasn’t because her recovery was very slow—maybe just normal) he wanted to experiment on her. I shudder at those words today, for we found out through the nurses that this doctor had a reputation for experimenting on patients. Had we known this about him, we would have dismissed him long before. We were later informed by another doctor that the experiments this man wanted to perform (drain all her spinal fluid from her spine, blow air into it and photograph her brain) had been done previously on maybe two dozen people. They had wonderful photographs, he said, at the forfeiture of the lives of the patients—not one survived.

We didn’t need a doctor’s permission to obey God. When we wouldn’t agree to this experimentation it was a mutual dissolving of association. From there the talk began, and exploded into a city-wide smear campaign through the church. This gossip was whispered to the pastor of our congregation and he came to visit.

“Janice, let me read your Patriarchal Blessing,” he said. I watched intently as he read. “Here it is,” he quoted, “'You have a great work to do in your own home.’ Through this, that you are going, you are being prepared for that work,” he explained. I didn’t understand. Only time, 25 to 30 years, would reveal it.

These experiences, testimonies of dreams and visions, blessings and trials from this point on testify to the truth of his inspired words of counsel. I was to be tried, afflicted and blessed to be able to bear testimony of Jesus Christ. And my companion would pass through it with me because we were one. But before we would see the promise fulfilled, our pastor, Lloyd Hurshman, would take his place in the Quorum of Twelve to serve the Lord.

“Death and Life are in the power of the tongue;
and they that love it shall eat the fruit thereof”
Pro. 18:21

Sometime between the loss of our first little stillborn girl and the birth of Melissa three years later, I was privileged to sit at the feet of Jesus Christ in vision. Up until that time I had wanted to paint a portrait or representation of Him. I thought it would be great to have something of this nature for a worship setting in our homes. Some woman was claiming to a vision of seeing Jesus lying on the sacrament table with blond hair and blue eyes. I didn’t believe it and laid the matter before Jesus in prayer for the truth. What are the colors of His hair and eyes?

I already had the promise to be heavenly guided in the execution of my artistic talents. And I was, for God had sent Walt Disney to me in a dream explaining my lack of color comprehension and how to correct it. Also my high school art teacher had appeared as an angel indicating she was to be sent to help me. She was in her 80s the last time that I saw her. I hadn’t known she was in the church until her death was announced, and here she was, on angelic assignment—appearing to be about 30 or so in the dream. I’d have known her anywhere. She asked me if I needed help and wanted it, to which I answered, “Yes.” The dream ended, and from thereafter, I did receive impressions as I worked. So why wouldn’t God grant me this privilege of knowing the coloring of the Christ? Was He really blond and blue-eyed?

Desire of My Heart

My training as a Hallmark artist gave me an opportunity to work for the kingdom. I’d dedicated my talent to the Lord’s work, and these angels were coming to instruct me in preparation for that work. That dedication began at an Easter service in the Stone Church. Gene and I were seated in the balcony in meditation before the program began. I became aware of a presence standing directly behind me and Gene, and I heard, “What is the greatest desire of your heart?” I’d had poor health from a child up, and a beautiful body came immediately to mind, not only of health, but also in symmetrical grace. That thought lasted only a moment, however, for I knew it would only be temporary for this earth and was very carnal of me. I changed my thoughts to a beautiful spirit like Jesus would want in me, and a dedication of my talent to helping spread the gospel news. Yes, that’s what I really wanted.

The angel seemed to be waiting for my final decision. And when it was settled in my mind, I heard, “Then you shall have both,” which made me think that my first thought of a beautiful, healthy body would some day be granted after the second wish was manifest in the flesh during my walk on earth. And I saw this coming to pass, for many years later I can look back and see the times God spared me from death and improved my health year by year; and during that time my talents were shared in various ways for His work.

My continual prayer to know the color of Jesus’s hair and eyes was not in secret. Heaven and hell knew what I was praying as I spoke of it to others. One morning I awoke from a dream so vivid I knew a power beyond earth had impressed me. The only question was, which power, God or Satan?  

A face appeared before me and burned into my memory. He said, “I am the Christ. Paint my portrait.” I saw the very skin texture. I felt he wanted me to capture exact details. Instructions were also given to destroy a religious painting I’d done for a minister in my church.

I was puzzled over these instructions because with the visual aid of the painting, twenty-two souls had been baptized. “Why would God want that destroyed? Hadn’t He helped me paint it?” Then the light came. That wasn't Jesus, that was the Deceiver.

When Gene came home from work that day he said, “An unusual thing happened to me today. You know that dream you had? Well, I had an impression that it wasn’t Jesus, it was Satan.” My mother-in-law also received the same witness. How thrilled I was to know God cared enough to keep me from being deceived, for I could have painted exactly what I’d seen. God gives added witness to strengthen us in our decisions. I still hadn’t seen Jesus. God hadn’t answered my prayer about the color of Christ’s hair and eyes, but I knew Satan was most interested in the saints having a portrait of “Jesus” in their homes, that was in reality a representation of him.

 Satan Appears

The master of disguise and lies had come before me earlier and I didn’t want to have anything to do with him. It was within hours after I had finished that painting for Don Landon that he wanted me to destroy. Not only did he appear to torment or destroy me then, and having failed, now he was trying to deceive me. That first experience was very traumatic for me and I hesitate to put it in words because Satan glories when we speak of him; yet for the edification of those saints who want to understand how our adversary works against us, I will share it.

Our nature seems to be awed at power outside of ourselves. We sense there is something greater and reach for it. And we should, only it should be within the realm wherein we are created—as heirs to this power, sons and daughters of God. We should reach for it in God’s time and way—through the atonement of Jesus Christ in obedience to the Gospel. All things will be given to the sons of God in time, but not to the sons of Satan, who by choice make him their father.

Finishing this painting of which I have spoken at about 2 a.m. I went to bed. Gene arose at 6 a.m. to leave for work. My body was weary yet my mind was alert, too keyed up to sleep. No sooner had Gene pulled out of the driveway when I felt a supernatural power entering the room. Not knowing what it was I allowed it to enter. By the time I figured it out it was too late, for it had seized control of my body and paralyzed me. I couldn’t even speak. All I could do was to plead in silence, “Lord, make it go away.” But it stayed.

Suddenly I heard the flapping of mighty wings behind me. Facing the wall and immovable, I couldn’t turn to see the object or being which was about two feet from my head; and I didn’t want to. A mournful wail began and the “flapping” grew louder, and louder increasing in momentum. They sounded as if they reached from the floor to the ceiling. I was terrified. Then a thought came into my mind. “Why don’t you ask God to give you the power to rebuke Satan?” I immediately prayed this and that is what God had been waiting for—my agency to function. Unknown to me, I had power over this being through Christ’s name. Satan knew that, and that’s probably why he paralyzed my voice—so I couldn’t rebuke him even if I had known to do it. It was a lesson I never forgot, and I had to use it more than once.

As I asked for the power, I felt enough release on my throat so I could whisper. My mind is all that was not under his control. Apparently Satan can’t read man’s minds,³ therefore, it is wise to pray some prayers silently. He can’t trick you if he doesn’t know what you are praying about.

I learned through the years that one of the ways a man can discern which spirit is approaching is by the amount of your agency that you are allowed to use. Under the power of God, man never loses his agency to either speak or act intelligently, and if a man so chooses, he may cease speaking while God’s Spirit is resident within him. Under Satan’s power man loses his agency and speaks and acts at Satan’s will. The Spirit of God never forces Himself upon man. Oh, how blessed a Shepherd we have, one who will lead us—not push us!

As the power loosened on my throat I whispered, “I rebuke you in the name of Jesus Christ.” I then felt a total release of my vocal cords and I repeated it in a more audible tone, at which his spirit withdrew completely.

I was confused as to why Satan took so much notice of me that he made a special point to torment me. And every time I asked God about it I always got the same answer, “He knows who you are.” And that didn’t make any sense to me. It took me several years more of trials and frustration at getting that same answer that I finally ask, “Well, who am I?” And He answered, “You are one of those who is going to help build God's Kingdom.” I thought about it a second. “Oh! That made sense. I wonder why I didn’t ask sooner!”

The more I learned in later years about our beloved Jesus, the more I could see why Satan thought I’d be trouble. Once I knew of Jesus and His love, I wanted to share it and Satan knew I would. Sorry Satan, you lost! I told! And so have millions of others! Jesus loves us and there’s nothing Satan can do to change that!

One thought here: Satan tries to keep our testimonies quiet—don’t publish them abroad. It’s time for saints to sing out—tell what Jesus means to you—not boastfully, but sing of them in joy—let others know about the love of Jesus Christ in your life! He’s their hope too! A wise man said, “Don’t hide your light under a bushel.” Be as that little child, joyful in a new found friend!

Jesus said unless we accept the kingdom as a little child, trusting, believing unquestioningly, obeying whatever He says, we could not enter therein. I was not coming to Him abasing myself as a child, I was a child. I came to Him in faith believing from the first. Something inside me knew Jesus couldn’t lie. I knew His promises were true, and I was smart enough to know that if I did what Jesus said, I would be a winner—the kind of winner that could move mountains. God said He will give His kingdom to the poor in spirit, the meek of the earth. Yes, the pure in heart who love God will see Him. Satan hates this! He doesn’t want me or anyone else to go to God. He seeks to destroy anything that shows any signs of belief in, or response to, the Great I Am. I saw his beginning, which dream I will relate in another chapter.

“Therefore, the dragon (Satan) was wroth with the woman (Church of God) and went to make WAR with the remnant of her seed, which keep the commandments of God, and have the testimony of Jesus Christ.” Rev. 12: 17

Up to this point, I still hadn’t seen Jesus, but I had been instantly healed of Asian flu, the only miracle I’d seen or even heard of in the church in recent times. The older generation had many testimonies to tell, but my generation seemed to be lacking in them. I wondered why. This healing came during the second time I asked for administration. The first time I called the elders for administration my conscience convicted me for I knew I wasn’t trying to do my best in living like I promised in baptismal waters. I felt guilty and knew God wouldn’t heal me because of my apathy. That withholding a blessing is what motivated me to try harder. I did, and God responded. Don’t let anyone tell you that God doesn’t reward effort no matter how small.

Not too long after this Asian Flu swept America and it was a killer. It tried to take me along with the many who were dying from it.  A high fever put me down in bed and we called the elders. But this time I had a clean conscience which makes one fearless. If you live, you live unto God, and if you die you needn’t fear the judgment. So it didn’t matter to me—I trusted God, but I didn’t think God wanted me home yet.

Trying to reassure Gene that I wasn’t going to die, I remember telling him about my Patriarchal Blessing.  I said, “Gene, I’m not going to die. God doesn’t lie, nor does He waste words. My blessing counsels me about motherhood,and how God is going to bless me with help rearing our children. How many children do you see around here?” And of course there were none! I still can see the tears in his eyes. As the elders drove into our driveway, I felt a power start at the top of my head and move down across my body and out my feet. I didn’t understand what happened but knew it was God’s power, and that I would receive a blessing of some kind. And I sure did! After anointing my head with consecrated oil, the elders prayed over me with their hands laid on my head.  I broke out in a sweat, the fever disappeared, and when they removed their hands I jumped straight out of bed healed like in the days of the Apostles of Jesus.

I was so thrilled I had to share what happened, so I ran to the phone and called my mother. “Mother,” I exclaimed, “I’ve been healed!” I’d never seen a miracle before, but now I knew it can happen today, because I had experienced one. My bedclothes were dripping with the perspiration from the broken fever. I praised God!

Of course Satan was watching and knew what was happening in our lives, but I didn’t know; I only knew I loved God, and He loved me. That is the only thing that is important! And then Jesus came to visit me.