Carmen Paul - Horse´s Hoof and Heaven

Friede-Renate, our former pastor, was a very warm-hearted lady with a great deal of empathy – one really felt she was listening when one spoke, and one was able to relax in her presence. I had the privilege of dwelling in the same house as she did for a while. When people needed help with spiritual matters, she was invariably their first point of call. She was the one behind my inspiration to prepare and offer a retreat on the subject of “inner healing”. I told her of my dream; we took time to pray to the Lord about it, and then meditate over it. This was the first time that I laid claim to properly listening to the Lord’s response. Believe me, two minutes like this felt like half an hour!

However, this day was like no other I’d experienced. I leaned back and closed my eyes, and suddenly I saw something like a strip of film being played out before my eyes: a room, in the dark area, there were people in it. I recognized my grandmother and grandfather, but they looked young then.

Then there was my mother: young, pretty, with her quite long dark hair making her look absolutely stunning and the whole time she was laughing with a man who I didn’t know, but nevertheless didn’t seem to be a complete stranger to me. A while after that they were alone in this room, resulting in them drawing closer together. They parted company only after having slept together.

Then there appeared some sort of board with the date “2 August 1958, 19 years old” displayed on it. It took a while for me to grasp that this was my mother’s 19th birthday, the day on which I was conceived – by this stranger.

Furthermore, I saw that it was well into the summer before she noticed that she was pregnant. She wasn’t happy at this to say the least. Whatever she felt about me, I knew the Lord already loved me and wanted me, even as a tiny little being in the womb of my mother.

The dream went on further: not only did my grandmother and grandfather as well as my mother live in this house, but also an old couple. The husband, named Paul, was tall and thin, whereas his wife was named Pauline, small and round – all rather sweet!

It was Pauline who gave my mother the courage to bear this child in her womb, as opposed to despairing. This came over graphically in this so-called film strip, and it brought me to tears.

I never got to know either Paul or Pauline; they died soon after one another while I was supposedly still in my nappies; however, I am extremely grateful that they were there at the right point in time. On asking her, my mother confirmed all of this; today I am also a ‘Paul’, albeit just my surname.

Of course, I told Friede-Renate everything I had seen, and we prayed once again together. We put this whole messy situation at the foot of the cross of Jesus, and it was at this point that I felt an enormous emotional weight being lifted from my shoulders.

Then it suddenly clicked in my mind. I understood why my mother went along with this man, why she was so horrified at noticing the resulting pregnancy, and why she wanted to have me aborted. Jesus took this all on himself, my inner pain, my sadness at how things had been between my mother and myself, it was all over in just one second. The question was what to do now. I couldn’t conceivably imagine talking this all through with my mother. However, that wasn’t the way of the Lord, he knew much better how to handle things; it was a matter of his timing anyway.

Although this revelation all happened in the space of just one afternoon, I needed around half a year more in order to process this and work things out inwardly for myself. My mother knew that something was up with me, but simply didn’t dare ask me. That half year was very important for me. I needed this time span to really work things out in a positive manner for myself.

Gradually grew the desire within me to talk things through with her. The Lord impressed upon me that it would be the right time to phone her up with the aim of inviting her over for several days. Without this inner conviction nothing would have happened, and I would never have believed that my mother would accept my offer; however as is often the case with the Lord once he takes charge of the situation, things work out completely differently and so much for the better in a way that one dares not hope for.

I phoned my mother up, and without even thinking about it she said “yes”! I was positively taken by surprise at this; however, it was clear that Jesus was taking charge of things now. Once there, she declared her wish for me to stay two weeks. Wow, I thought! In such a short space of time we were able to get onto the same wavelength as each other.

At the start of the second week I made the most of our time to really discuss in detail our relationship, and what I’d seen in this filmstrip, in order to put this all behind me, burying it for once and for all. Our discussions were tough going, both of us having to dig up uncomfortable facts from the past, for her part my mother offering a great deal more than token resistance, expressing her fury, regret, and as time wore on, utter helplessness coupled with tears of resignation.

However God’s presence really was perceivable during this time in a way I’ve seldom experienced before; for my part I had been able to tackle this problem head on, and likewise my mother really began to repent. Sadly, it has turned out to be only a half-way house with her, but she has to really see that for herself. She knows what steps she has to take, she knows the way forward, she knows who she can turn to for help and counselling; only she has to do that for herself, no-one can do this for her.

I sincerely recommend that when you know that there are ruptured relationships between you and someone else, don’t just put things off. Every relationship you restore in this lifetime remains restored in the afterlife and will serve as a source of inner joy, starting from now.

Priceless memories

My grandfather was the most loving person I have ever known. Whatever I wanted to know or learn, I knew I could turn to him for help – “Granddad knew everything”. He taught me everything about nature, everything one needed to know about biology.

Thus I got to know every type of fungus and mushroom there were in the woods, and where to find them. My grandfather explained to me which soil supports which type of mushroom and why. The best times of my life were spent in his company.

My grandfather was the cleverest person in the entire world because he would know about everything. He knew everything about animals, plants, and the universe, not to mention everything about the people themselves. It fascinated me to see just how observant he was, and how his analysis would turn out to be correct. I frequently applied his logical way of thinking in my own life. My teachers at school became so impressed with me that it even merited mention in my school reports.

On a wonderfully bright day in summer around harvest time my granddad took me out in the horse coach to gather in the hay. I tried hard to tie the hay in bundles although being just four or five years old at the time, I was not remotely successfully.

Once these sheaves lay in rows, these were gathered into piles, which my granddad pitched onto the cart with his fork. My part to play was to jump up and down on them in order to flatten these sheaves.

At some point in time the cart was full, and I sat on the top of the huge mound of fragrant hay gathered in. My grandpa passed the fork to me – but a snake had wound itself around its prongs. What a fright it gave me! My granddad climbed up to me and explained that it was a simple grass snake, which he declared to be quite harmless – but that its relative, the adder, was much more dangerous. Years later I also encountered one of these face to face, so remembering this description of his I knew right away what I was up against.