Jesus: I Speak to You Again

Chapter 101

Relationship with the Father Comes Not at Once, as Witnessed by the Experience of My Apostle

It might be hard for you to believe my words, but for many years, my present apostle has already testified to their truth. Before he established his current relationship with the Father, he experienced much fear and anxiety, sought after material success, and felt the pain of betrayal and isolation—both from friends and family. Only after discovering the Father within himself and being born of the spirit did he find relief. It was as if an invisible hand swept away the negative traits that had tormented him, allowing his soul to see through a clear window to the beautiful creation, with your planet being just a tiny speck within it. To him, this world became small yet beloved, leaving no room for the darkness of fear and anger. Instead, he found love, truth, and the light of the Father shining within him, warming his heart.

He reached this place thanks to his efforts and his sincere desire to share his newfound knowledge and light with others, even though he had no earthly teacher to guide him through each daily step. He relied on the great teachers who offered bright guidance, but their light was sometimes too dazzling for him. In his everyday quest for a path toward God and his fellow humans, he often found himself wandering alone. He read many beautiful and truthful books, but he longed for a simple, understandable message on how to truly feel God’s love within and how to genuinely love both God and others. The written words he encountered, though deep, didn’t provide the clear steps he needed to experience that love fully in his own life.

For many years, he wrestled with these questions daily, engaging in deep monologues within himself. His heart ached over the power and materialism he saw in the world, often achieved at the expense of others’ free will. Yet, amidst this inner struggle, he began to experience fleeting moments of peace. During solitary times, he would close his eyes and try to imagine merging with an unknown Force that filled the vastness of the cosmos. Even though he could not fully understand this connection, it brought him real moments of peace and satisfaction—brief but profound—before he had to return to the harsh reality around him.

After a year of these meditative moments, he began to express gratitude to the Father and to me in the evenings before sleep. He would thank us for the day that had passed and began to thank others without trying to merge with the universe itself. Later, his gratitude turned into a heartfelt expression of the deeper desires of his soul. Yet, his expressions lacked faith, and he often found himself doing it without fully understanding why or how. It was as if his mind watched from the outside as his heart sought to express something bright to God.

These desires were simple, like hoping for good health for all people or wishing for a deeper understanding between people. His thoughts were scattered and unstructured, more like the early words of a soul just beginning to speak. He didn’t realize that this stumbling, uncertain path was exactly how each of us starts our relationship with the Father—with an open heart, speaking whatever comes, even when we don’t fully understand.

At first, a mortal cannot hear the Father’s voice, which speaks softly to each of us all the time. The journey often begins with our own uncertain words—an inner monologue that feels disorganized and confusing, even to us. At this stage, our earthly mind hasn’t yet learned how to listen, and our soul is still too young and delicate to break through completely. My teachings aim to help you understand that it’s your true self—the personality gifted to you by the Father—that must eventually push through the layers of your human mind. Only then can you speak genuinely with the Father and serve Him, doing good deeds each day without expecting anything in return.

For my apostle, those early, unclear thoughts slowly transformed into deeper ones with more meaning. Over time, he began to see that these thoughts carried responsibility, obligating him to something greater. He found himself carefully choosing which thoughts to share with the Father, feeling that some were too bold. For example, he struggled with his occasional desire to drink alcohol with friends. He didn’t want to give up that social bond, and the relaxation that alcohol brought. Because of this, he avoided making promises or asking the Father for help to change.

He thought to himself that any sincere words spoken to the Father had weight and that if he asked for something, he would be bound to it. So, for a long time, he avoided ending his conversations with the Father with the phrase, “Father, not my will but Yours be done.”

One time, he tried to say it but quickly withdrew, reasoning, “I’m not ready yet. What if the Father’s will is something I don’t like? What if I have to follow it just because I promised? Maybe later, but not today. I still want to keep some freedom for myself, in case I don’t like what the Father has in mind for me. Better not to make a promise I might not be able to keep.”