Norman Willis

Norman WIllis

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My Story
By Norman Bradley Willis
1/26/2020

My name is Norman Bradley Willis, and my life is a story of my early unfaithfulness, and our Creator’s unmerited favor, which is leading me to faith healing. And I am forever thankful to our good heavenly Father, because even though in my early life I fell away from the faith, when I look back through the many twists and turns in the path, I can see the Father’s hand guiding me faithfully into His service, for which I am forever thankful.

I was born in the Seattle, Washington area (in the United States of America), in 1963. I was raised as a Protestant Christian, and when I was seven or eight I prayed fervently that the Creator (whom I knew then as “God”) would make me more like His Son (whom I knew then as “Jesus”), so that I could be pleasing to Him. But then, due to a variety of factors, I turned away from the church, and fell out of the faith, and walked lost and alone for many years, until on June the 6th, 1999, He finally called me to repentance. And because of how things happened (which is very embarrassing to me), since that time I have done my very best to serve Him with all of my heart, with all of my soul, and with all of my strength. And as I draw closer to Him, and try to serve Him and His people better, I also get healed, and get blessed. Although my life is much harder now, for me, life just keeps getting better and better.

I was born in 1963, with a mild case of autism spectrum disorder (which they used to call Asperger’s Syndrome). In 1963, most people didn’t know what autism or Asperger’s Syndrome was. (I didn’t, and neither did anyone I knew.) About the simplest I can explain it is that autism is where you have sort of a biological disconnect between your brain (or your thoughts), and your body, and this compounds because it affects how you interact with other people. Basically, you live inside your head, so Asperger’s people can get extremely smart, but they also have a hard time connecting to their feelings, and their emotions, and even to the physical sensations of your body. Taken all together, it can mean that you don’t end up connecting well with other people. (As a side note, in Judaism they consider autism to be a form of affliction that can oftentimes inspire either great intellect or even prophecy. Some of the more famous people with Asperger’s include Albert Einstein, Nikola Tesla, Sir Isaac Newton, Mozart, Bill Gates, Steve Jobs, Bobby Fischer, Michael Angelo, etc.) Basically, mildly autistic people can end up as “geeky geniuses” who don’t always fit well into society, but who sometimes can see things that other people can’t always see.

With some types of autism, there’s also scoliosis (which I have). My left leg is maybe 3/4ths of an inch (1.9 cm) longer than my right leg, so my spine is curved, but because of the way autism causes a disconnect between your brain and your body, I did not know it growing up. (And actually I did not know it until about maybe 2018.) All I knew growing up was that my back and my arms always hurt, and it made it hard to play sports, because my running was very uncoordinated. (When your legs are different lengths and you don’t know it, you don’t know why you can’t run, and you don’t know why you can’t dribble a basketball like other children, you just can’t.) But my parents loved hiking, and I bought a backpack with waist belt, so I could rest the weight on my hips. Also, what was funny was that because I expect hiking trails to be uneven, I was always very coordinated in leaping from one rock to the next across mountain streams, and negotiating narrow trails on steep mountainsides, and because I expected the trail to be uneven, I was able to walk differently, so I was always very sure-footed (whereas on the sports field I was never coordinated).

I also loved hiking because I loved to be alone with what I then called Nature, although today I realize that what I was really seeking was to be alone and at one with the Spirit. But what I didn’t realize at the time is that all the hiking and carrying heavy packs made my legs very big, but my upper body never really developed, because the curve in my spine meant it hurt to move my arms. Add to that the fact that autistic people don’t really connect to their feelings or communicate very well, I ended up as a geeky child who was excellent with book work, but because I was introverted, I liked to spend a lot of time alone, reading.

My parents always encouraged us to do as well as we could in school, and in school they were teaching us about Evolution Theory. But in my mind the problem was that if Evolution Theory is true (and it is not true), then Genesis cannot be true—and if Genesis is not true, then it stands to reason that other things about the Bible might not be true. (I believe the Bible cover to cover, and I talk about this in our studies, but back then I didn’t know that the Hebrew of Genesis 1:1 does not read “in the beginning”, but “in a beginning”—so even if Evolution is true [which it isn’t], Genesis can still be true). But, like I say, back in those days I did not understand that about Genesis, or about Evolution Theory, so I fell out of the faith, and like millions of other lost and hurting people, I tried making my way in life alone, without the guidance of the Spirit. And that was the worst thing that ever happened to me in my life. (And I accept that it is my own fault, even if I was misled by my government.)

To be happy, every young man needs something to believe in, and some cause to serve that is greater and more important to him than his own life. And yet without the Bible, and without faith in the Messiah, I couldn’t know what it was. They were teaching us about democracy in school, and the freedoms that are given under the United States Constitution, so I thought I could lay down my life in service to my country by becoming the best soldier I could be, and making a career out of the military. I have always had a strong desire to live a life of service, so I could do something good for the world, and at the time, that seemed to be the way.

When I was 12, my two older brothers joined a paramilitary search and rescue organization, and so I also joined. We learned land navigation, and ropes, and knots and slings. We learned rappelling with ropes, and many things that are exciting to a young man, and along with that, we learned about military structure and organization. So, when I joined the Army ROTC in college, to me it was just a continuation of the military lifestyle I thought I already knew.

They had a special program at that time where you could be a cadet in the army ROTC and also join a reserve unit, so I joined the third Battalion of the 12 Special Forces Reserves, and undertook both paratroop training, and Special Forces training, both while still in college. If I may boast just a little, because I liked books and learning I was the Officer Honor Graduate of my Special Forces Officer’s Qualification Course (which was actually the number #2 slot), even though I was still only a newly commissioned second lieutenant, still in college. (I used to say I was “so green that I glowed in the dark.”) Then after I graduated college with a degree in Psychology, I went on active duty overseas, with the airborne infantry in Fort Kobbe, Republic of Panama. And that was where it finally sank in that even though I was good with the books, that was not all that there was to life, because not everything I had ever been taught was correct.

When I got to Panama, the commanding general’s in-briefing admonished us to get to know the Panamanian people, and to think of ourselves as ambassadors to their nation. So I did. And, also, being a young man just out of college, I met a Panamanian girlfriend who was going to the university in Panama City. I met her brother, who was in the Panama Defense forces. After I was in county about eight months, President George Herbert Walker Bush declared the Panamanian General Manuel Noriega to be an outlaw, and a drug runner, which caused a lot of funny looks between the officers in our battalion, because everyone knew that any drug running Manuel Noriega had done was with President Bush, back when each of them was the head of their respective CIAs. And not only that, but my girlfriend stopped seeing me. Perhaps it occurred to her too that me and my countrymen were going to kill her brother and his countrymen, because our president ran drugs with their president, back when they were both the head of their respective CIA’s (and everyone knew it). It struck me as unbelievably ironic and wrong that Protestants were going to kill Catholics, because the presidents of both of our countries were involved in drug dealing that had gone sour. It made absolutely no sense. My head imploded, and my heart began to crumble from within. Suddenly I no longer had any desire to make a career out of the military, but just wanted to get out as soon as I could.

I don’t know if it is this way for every person on the autism spectrum, but they say that one of the peculiar things about being autistic is that you need to have your questions answered. If you have a question, and you can’t get that question answered, your world stops. I know it is certainly true in my case, which is why I am always such a stickler for detail. I’ve been told by some people that when you have serious life questions like that, the thing to do is to compartmentalize the issue, and sort of put it in a box, and not let it affect the rest of your life. But when autistic, you can’t do that. Everything needs to be integrated. And if things don’t integrate, you don’t have any choice but to stop your life, until things do integrate. In other words, cognitive dissonance turns your world on its head, and you can’t have it.

So, there I was, in the Republic of Panama, and me and my buddies were getting ready to kill my girlfriend’s brother and his buddies, because our presidents had run drugs together, and most of the other US officers didn’t seem to have a problem with it. For them it was a job, and while they liked the thought of ultimate morality, it did not affect their career choices. For them it was a question of seeing the United States as “better” than any other nation, and so they were willing to do unclean things, in support of it. And because of that, I could not get out of the service fast enough, but I still had another year and a half on my tour. I began praying to a God I was no longer faithful to, that He would get me out of the army before the war began, so at the very least I would not have blood on my own hands. And He did get me out of the service before the war started, but not as easily as I had hoped.

I have had many regular dreams in my life, and then also I’ve had seven or eight of what I would call “prophetic dreams”. (These are the kind of dreams where you wake up out of your sleep and say, “What was that?!?!?”) I remember that when I was about 15 or 16, I dreamt that I was going to die when I was about 26 years old. And I remember telling it to my sister, and she yelled at me, not to say that. And I loved my sister very much, so I guess I forgot all about it until many years later, but I think “I” did die right before I turned 26. It was what scientists would call a “near death experience.”

When you are on airborne status, you need to jump once every three months, to stay current. And it is a long story, but we had a big parachute jump right before I got out of the army, which I had a very bad feeling about. And the night before the jump I had a dream that I was going to be seriously injured, and that it would change my life forever. And even though I didn’t believe in prophetic dreams back then, I remember waking up and having a feeling of dread. The winds were very high, such that we had to circle in the air for a few hours, waiting for the winds to die down enough so we could jump. And then of course, just as soon as we jumped, the winds picked right back up again. To make a long story short, it was an experimental non-steerable parachute, and I found myself being carried straight backwards, with the ground moving under me faster than I had ever seen it move. And worse, the canopy picked up an oscillation, such that when I landed, my feet were way out in front of me, and as I came down, my heels hooked on the edge of a wheel rut, so there was no way to get them under me. As I came down to impact the ground they shot straight out in front of me, and I slammed like a sack of potatoes into the ground, first my behind, and then the back of my head. I did the calculations, and basically it is like slamming the back of your head into sun baked clay (think “brick wall”) at about 35 miles (55 kilometers) per hour. (Imagine a baseball bat hitting the back of your head at that speed, if that gives you an idea.) The pain was so intense my body went immediately numb, and behind my clenched eyelids, first I saw a blinding explosion of stars, like a supernova going off inside my head. Then slowly the supernova seemed to turn blood red with shooting stars and fireworks of white, and then the red slowly faded to purple, and then to midnight blue, and then finally everything faded to black, and then after a few more seconds the canopy of stars stopped twinkling. And I remember thinking to myself, “I’m dead.”

Of the first wave of perhaps 30 jumpers, 18 of us were injured. Three of us went to the hospital. I don’t remember this, but Specialist Four Gatewood said he found me hunched over my rucksack, with my rifle drawn. He said I picked my head up, and mumbled something about perimeter security, and then put my head back down. The first thing I vaguely remember is coming into consciousness a few times in the back of an ambulance, and a medic taking my vital signs. Then I remember waking up in Gorgas Army Medical Center, in a hospital bed, where I came in and out of consciousness for about two days. Finally, on the third day I could stay conscious for most of the day, and because it was a prewar situation, my commander asked if I could go back to work. And because I wanted to be a good troop, I wanted to go (because I wanted to do my part). They gave me back my boots, and a big bag of Motrin 800’s, and a few refill prescriptions, and sent me back to my unit. I remember them saying that in 90% of cases with closed head injuries, the body heals and there’s no subsequent trauma. But what they didn’t say is what happens if you end up being one of the 10% that has sequela.

In Hollywood, people get hit on the back of the head, and they forget who they are for three or four days, and then they recover, and everything’s fine. But that’s not how it goes in real life. In real life, you can suffer a complete and total change of personality (kind of like having a stroke, because the tissue loss is very similar). In my case, I knew my name was Norman Willis, but I was no longer the same man as before. I knew what things I used to like, but I didn’t like them anymore. In fact, I wasn’t sure what I liked, or what I was about. I guess maybe it can be compared to an ex-boxer who is “punch drunk”, except I did not know I had a problem. I didn’t know that some significant neural links had been cut in the impact, and I was going to have to relearn how to live. And yet the autism and the inability to deal with feelings were still there, along with a developing case of post-traumatic stress.

At this point, I didn’t trust my government, and I didn’t trust the news, because it had been my experience that in those few times when I got time to watch the news cover the crisis in Panama, what they showed on the screen looked a lot like what was happening in Panama, but it wasn’t really what was happening in Panama. We didn’t have the term “fake news“ back in those days, but all I knew was that I couldn’t trust what we saw on the TV news, and we also could not trust the majority of voters, who believed what they were shown. And so, with a developing case of post traumatic stress disorder, a head injury, a complete personality change, shattered dreams, prostrating headaches and still unaware that I had a mild case of autism, I left the service at the age of 26, hoping and praying that there would one day be some way to make sense of my world, and help to bring order to it. The thing I wanted to do most was to go back to college and get my PhD in psychology. I studied as a post-baccalaureate until I knew what I wanted to study, and then finally I enrolled in a Trans-Personal PhD program in the San Francisco Bay area. Only, before the course started, I began to realize that secular psychology could never have the answers needed to help bring order and peace to a broken world.

While I was still in the Service, when I had first started searching for answers, my company commander had taught me how to divine an ancient Chinese oracle called the I Ching. He showed me how it worked, and he encouraged me to try it. I was voted “most scientific“ in my high school graduating class, and for me, science was the answer to everything. And since secular science denied the existence of a spiritual world, I was very skeptical. But my company commander had done some divination about me, and the answers he gave seemed applicable to my life, so after I had experimented with it some, I could no longer deny that there seemed to be something to it. My scientific mind realized that even if the data was not scientific, there seemed to be too strong of a correlation to ignore, so I began to realize that there were more things in heaven and on earth, than were dreamt of in my philosophy.

Whenever I asked the Oracle, I got answers that seemed to help. Because I did not believe the Bible at that point (and was not reading the Bible at that point), I did not understand that yes, there is such a thing as demonism, and the occult, and that just because something is ‘spiritual’, and powerful, and pretends to be good, doesn’t prove it really is good. All I knew at that point was that not everything I had been taught in school was correct, and that the true answer to the world’s problems lay not in secular knowledge, but in spirituality. And so I began to delve deep into the I Ching, Taoism, and Buddhism. Ultimately ended up studying under a Korean Zen Buddhist master in the San Francisco Bay area (Berkeley), and after several years of disciplined study he offered to recognize me as an enlightened Zen Buddhist monk, and he wanted to ordain me as the second in command of his organization. However, I turned it down, because even though I was not then sure what it was, it just felt something essential was missing. Even though I could not articulate it at the time, it just seemed like everything was all about him. And I remembered that in contrast, in the Bible, the Messiah’s life was all about service to other people, and about establishing a world order whereby everyone could live together in peace. I couldn’t reconcile the difference, and the truth was too important to me.

[In retrospect, it seems to me that in Zen, what they call “truth” is the understanding that most people are sheep, and are easily tricked by those who are able to communicate in the Spirit. The big problem is, they expect you to use your spiritual insight and spiritual talents to manipulate others for personal gain. This is what they call, “the highest good”, because at least in a sense it brings order to an otherwise uncivilized society. But even though I could not articulate it back then, I knew it wasn’t what I wanted, because it was a selfish thing. I knew that ultimately it would not bring order to the world in the way that I was hoping.]

The most embarrassing thing in my life happened after that, but I am thankful for it, because it was what led in the end to my repentance. As a child in a paramilitary search and rescue organization, and in school, we learned about the U.S. Revolutionary War, and how it culminated in the United States Constitution. And I remember being taught that the Constitution was the most important document there was today, and that it had been important enough to fight a Revolutionary War over, because it guaranteed the people the right to throw off any unjust or repressive government. I didn’t understand at the time that this was exactly the opposite of what the Bible teaches (in Romans 8). All I knew was that the US was doing a lot of unclean things both in Panama, and all around the world, and I could see them preparing to form a New World Order and a globalist government.

I had relocated to California for the Ph.D. program, and for a Ph.D. in Chinese Medical Theory at a local Chinese Medical training institute. I loved the area, but the only thing was that the Santa Cruz County government would not issue me a concealed weapons permit, which at the time seemed very important to me (whereas now, it does not, because I have learned how to surrender to the Creator Yahweh [“the Lord’], and to trust Him at an entirely different level). And to make a long story short, that was when I suffered a post traumatic stress disorder break, which led to me screaming wildly (out of my mind) at the government over the phone lines. This is the embarrassing incident that led to my finally getting called to repentance.

It is not an excuse, but when I look back on it, the U.S. Government really sets soldiers up to fail. When you join the service they make you raise your right hand, and swear an oath to uphold and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic. Only, they don’t tell you that the U.S. Government is the foremost of those domestic enemies, and if you try to protest them, they will simply criminalize you, and throw you in jail, or perhaps try to kill you (as in my case).

A PTSD break is essentially a minor schizophrenic break, because there is a schism (or a break) between what you hold to be the reality, and reality. So, most people end up living in what might be called “parallel universes”, with philosophies and understandings that are not what the Bible teaches—and many of them don’t really care. They just trust that their government and their culture is the right one, and they don’t really follow up on the small details that don’t add up. So here I am, screaming at the 911 operator that the Santa Cruz County government is corrupt (which is true), and that they needed to give me a concealed weapons permit, so I could exercise my right to defend myself against attackers. And to prove my point, I simulated that there was a home invasion going on, and that they could not get to me to protect me in time (which was true. It took them over an hour to get to my house, and they had to call me back for directions several times). The whole thing was a nearly fatal comedy of PTSD errors, because what I was told later was that the County Sheriff had rolled the SWAT Team with orders to “take him out” (meaning me).

To make a long story short, after I had surrendered and was following police orders, one of the officers yelled, “Now! Now! Get him now!” And then six officers jumped on me, threw me down with my face in the gravel, and began to beat me to death. I was slammed face down into the gravel, and the SWAT Team officer (whom I forgive) began with the blows to the back of my head (in the same place where my head had impacted the ground with the parachute injury). And when I realized that I only had seconds to live, I realized that Taoism was nothing, and Zen was nothing, and I called out in desperation, “Oh, dear God!”, hoping only that He would somehow accept me into His kingdom, perhaps as the thief upon the Cross (or the Stake), who had repented at the last moment (Luke 23:40-43). And I don’t know if I will ever find the words to describe the awe and the beauty of what happened next. I don’t have the words to explain it, but when I called out, “Oh, dear God!”, inside of my head, in the center of my brain, suddenly there mushroomed inside of my skull a brilliant golden light, like liquid molten gold, glowing with an aura of sheer beauty. It was the most beautiful, most wonderful thing I ever saw. And even though I was in the process of being beaten to death, suddenly I felt utterly, completely relaxed and at peace in a way I can’t even describe. And then as the next blow from the officer’s hand struck, I watched in placid amazement as the golden light funneled itself out of the back of my head, and into the officer’s hand, and his hand broke right at that moment. And even more amazing, the last blow (and I believe it was the seventh) did not even hurt. And as embarrassing as that story is to me, the reason I tell it is just so that people can know that after that experience, no one will ever convince me that there isn’t a Creator, and that we don’t need to worship and serve Him the way He wants us to.

That was June 6, 1999. Since then, I’ve tried to do everything I can to serve the Most High in spirit and in truth. But before I could really begin to serve Him, the first thing I needed to know was whether the Messiah had already come, or not, because I had called on “God”, and it was “God” (Elohim) who answered me. But that did not tell me for sure if the Messiah had come, so I had to prove to myself whether He had already come (or not) from the Old Testament alone. So I began to read my Bible, and saw a few different proofs, which do not require faith, but are simple mathematics (and I show what they are in our studies). And then after I had proven to myself that the Messiah had already come, my next question was, “What religion did He come to teach?“ Because I didn’t just want to go back to the church I was born into, and assume it was right. With something this important, I needed to know that I was keeping the faith that was once delivered to the Saints, as we are commanded to do (Jude 3).

As I began studying, first I went back to the church I grew up in, in the Seattle area (the Methodist Church), but to my dismay, the minister there was preaching directly against the Bible. (Quote: “The Bible says it’s better to give than to receive. But I say it’s better to receive them to give. Because the Bible also says we are supposed to be like little children, and any child knows it’s better to receive gifts, than to give them”). I left there, and began searching for a church that told the truth, but there was always something that did not line up with the Scriptures. And whenever I would go to ask questions, eventually I was always told either not to ask those questions, or to leave.

I tell my story a bit more in the opening chapter of Nazarene Israel, but Yahweh led me very quickly to the Messianic movement. I moved to eastern Washington State, into the heartland area, and my neighbors were Messianic Jews. From there I was led to the Messianic Israel movement, and then to some other movements that I describe in other places in our studies (Two House movement, Ephraimite movement, Hebraic Roots, etc.). In my mind at the time, I kept looking for some teacher who taught the truth, so I could “apprentice under” him. And I kept looking for a faith that looked exactly like what the book of Acts describes, because I figured that if we are told to practice the faith once delivered to the saints (Jude 3), then it should look like the faith once delivered to the saints. But even though I kept looking, I couldn’t find a teacher who did not teach something that was clearly in opposition to Scripture (and for whatever reason, they would never explain).

As I kept reading and studying, I got involved in several online forums, where people would post their questions, and I would try to answer them. And then after I answered the same questions a few dozen times, I wrote study articles to explain. And then someone suggested that I put up a website, and post the study articles there, so I did that. And then people had more difficult questions, and so to answer those questions I had to write a small book, which was the first edition of Nazarene Israel (111 pages, if I recall). And then when people had questions on that, so I had to write a second edition (which was 304 pages). And at some point I realized that I was a minister, who is called to serve those who want to worship Yeshua both in the Spirit, and in truth. And I’m sad to have to say that it seems like only a very small percentage of the people seem to want the full truth—but these are the people that I am happy to be serving.

Yeshua our Messiah (“Jesus”) tells us that the time is coming, and now is, with the true worshipers will worship the father in Spirit and in truth (John 4:23). And while a lot of people seem to have the spirit, not very many want to worship both in Spirit, and in truth. And yet if we only worship him in Spirit (and not in truth), then to me it is the wrong Spirit, because it is not a Spirit that is eager to do all that Yeshua commands. So that is why I have emphasized studies so much. Before we can serve Yeshua in truth, we need to know what He wants us to do.

So I know that to some I seem a ridiculous man, and I have a ridiculous body, because of my growing up with autism. In His great mercy, Yahweh is teaching me to walk more closely with Him, and as I slowly learn to do so, my health and my relationships seem to get better, day by day. And although I work constantly (and there is not much sleep) I am glad to do it, because for the first time in my life I have a job where I can research and publish the truth, and there seems to be a small-but-growing number of people who want to listen to the truth. And it’s a great joy to me. I’m happier than I’ve ever been, and for twenty years now, each year is better than the last.

People ask me certain questions repeatedly, like how come I have so much hair, and how come I never married, etc. I know these things seem strange by the perspective I was taught as a child, but when you’ve been where I’ve been, and you’ve seen what I’ve seen, these things are not strange at all, because Scripture idealizes them. They are a joy.

About the hair, one day as I was reading in Numbers 6, it gave the laws regarding the vow of a Nazarite. These laws call for not cutting your hair, not consuming grapes, and not going near a dead body. I researched what these laws meant, but I could not find any satisfying answers. And as I kept praying, I started to feel that I was supposed to take this vow (and find out). And as I was praying about it, one day I felt convicted to put down my razor, and I’ve let my hair grow ever since. And it’s been a big blessing in that I get to be as my Father created me, regardless of what other people think. But as to why the Father Yahweh (“Jehovah”) wants us to have long hair, my personal theory is that hair is kind of like antennas, or like whiskers are for cats (and they say that if you either cut or burn a cats whiskers off, the cat can die from the shock). It’s difficult to explain, but the hair helps me perceive things in the Spirit that I probably would not otherwise feel. (Maybe it sounds strange, but I believe it is true.)

As to why I never married, years before I got called to repentance, I decided that it was better to wait for the right woman. But then when I was called to repentance, I read in Matthew 19:10-12 that even though not all men were able to abstain from marriage, for those who were able to abstain from it, it was better. So about 2002, when I read that, I felt convicted that it was for me. And the Apostle Shaul (Paul) says the same thing in 1 Corinthians 7, telling us that it is not a sin to marry, but that those who do not marry are better able to look after the things of Yahweh (perhaps because they have more time). And it does give more time to serve Yahweh and his people, which is the thing I want most in life. So I am happy to put everything else aside, for the ability to serve Yeshua and His people better.

I know I’ve been called, and I know I am not worthy, and I know that He is nonetheless favoring me to re-establish certain things, and I can never thank Him enough for His great kindness in choosing me. I know I’m a very flawed man, and I don’t always have the best interpersonal skills, but I love people a lot, and I am glad to make sacrifices to help others come to the same truths He has shown me. And each year my life gets better and better, now that I know Him, and serve Him and His people.

Sometimes people ask what motivates me, and that’s easy. There is nothing I want more than to get to the judgment one day, and hear, “Well done, good and faithful servant! Enter into the joy of your Master” (Luke 19:17). And I don’t want to lie to myself or play games with my eternal salvation. I know that to hear that, I need to give Yahweh everything I have. And because I wasted so much time before I got called to repentance, I want to give him everything I have. It is a joy to serve such a good and faithful Master.

There is a mountain of work ahead of us, and not much rest for those of us doing the work, but I know from prophecy that very great and momentous things are coming, and that one day His Son’s kingdom will be established here on this earth, and I want to do all I can to help with that. So I am thankful for the hardships, because I know that it means I am doing all I can.

And for the first time in my life, I’m surrounded by others who also want to know the truth, and to obey the truth by His spirit. And those are my favorite people in all the world, and I thank Father Yahweh for them.

In His service,

Norman B. Willis
Apostle, Nazarene Israel
The original faith of the apostles
www.nazareneisrael.org

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