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Overview
Each chapter discusses what I believe is an American peoples concern. Some people might see my book as a book on race relations and to some degree it is, but gently.
There are thirteen chapters. In Chapter Five I discuss the forty year prophesy of the coming of Barack Obama; while in Chapter Seven I discuss the struggles of African Americans "then and now," the African American churches, including Rev. Wright, Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King (among other things); Chapter Nine, "Forcing Scared Against The President" discusses how the politicians work overtime to portray President Obama illegitimately to the American Public, and Chapter Ten, disputes the assertion that Barack Obama is a radical (Really?); Chapter Eleven, "Will the Real Mr. Speaker Stand," questions the heart of John Boehner and Chapter Twelve, "Guess Who's Coming To The Tea Party" warns the Tea Party that they could very easily become the terror group of the past.
Chapter One, "I Saw An Angel" is the foundation for the book and how it all got started.
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781477267233 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | AuthorHouse |
| Publication date: | 09/28/2012 |
| Pages: | 292 |
| Product dimensions: | 6.00(w) x 9.00(h) x 0.81(d) |
Read an Excerpt
Barack Hussein Obama.... Few Are Chosen
(The Obamanating Spirit and Remembered Stories)By Sam
AuthorHouse
Copyright © 2012 SamAll right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4772-6724-0
Chapter One
I SAW AN ANGEL
For He will command his Angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways. They will lift you up in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone. Psalms 91:11-12
I was born in 1945. A precocious young black girl living in a South riddled with poverty, suffering and oppression.
From a very young age, and for as long as I can remember, I have had compelling dreams and visions. I have even experienced miracles.
Some of my dreams were (are) in color and others were (are) in black and white. Many of them I cannot remember, and some are so vivid that it is difficult to forget, sometimes even frightening. I have also heard my name audibly called, in a deep voice, from somewhere unknown.
I have dreams of God, heaven, hell, sin, Angels, flying, actors, and places near and far. When I dreamt of sin, the smell of sin was like decayed meat. It is repugnant to the senses, as shown to me by God. I believe, when we do something sinful, or violate the Laws of God, it is offensive to God. The saying is that individuals who are exposed or taught the teachings of Christ have a higher accountability than those individuals who are not taught the teachings of Christ. If you smelled what I smelled, you would never sin, because you would not want to smell like that before God. God, always, has to forgive me; I am constantly in trouble.
My mother said when I was about five months old (in 1946), I had the whooping cough; and I refused her breast milk. In the 1940's, the whooping cough was a death sentence for many children, especially babies in poor families. After a week of not taking my mother's milk, I was skin and bones. No one expected me to live.
A woman, unknown to my mother, was passing by. My mother was crying and the woman asked, "What is wrong?"
My mother said, "My baby has the whooping cough and is dying. She will not take my breast milk."
The woman, whom my mother never saw again, said, "Give your baby a few drops of Coca-Cola."
My mother gave me Coca-Cola to drink, and I accepted it. Within a few days I began to eat, again. Was the woman my Guardian Angel?
In the 1940's and the 1950's, every year during the Christmas holidays, my family went to an annual church convention. On the church grounds, there were dormitories where the men, women, and married couples resided. I slept in the room with my grandparents on a fold out bed. Every day and night there was a revival, and as children we had a lot of fun.
One night, while in church, I became very ill. It may have been food poisoning. Some church members wanted to take me to the hospital, but my grandfather took me to the bedroom, instead. The church members, out of concern and curiosity, followed him. I remember him telling them to leave. When they left the room, my grandfather kneeled next to my bed and prayed for me. My healing was, instantly. I was twelve years old.
In the seventh grade, I was the seatmate to a young girl who wore long dresses. Our seats looked like a bench, and it seated two students. Our wooden desk was the length of the bench.
My seatmate wanted to be a Nun. I knew nothing about Nun's or what they represented. I suspected that it had something to do with being a Christian. However, I made it my business to pick on her. I should have known better because, before I had my growth spurt students picked on me. I was so short that the children called me "peanut." I wanted the popular kids to accept me, so I joined them in bullying. I made the big announcement that I was going to fight my seatmate during the lunch hour.
After lunch, my classmates and students from other classes, rushed into the classroom. The young girl did not know what I had planned. When she walked into the classroom, I pushed her once, and I pushed her again; neither time did she push me. I, then, balled up my fist with intentions to hit her. When I did, someone grabbed my arm. It must have been her Guardian Angel. I saw no one, but I could feel someone holding me. This force, this presence, was not visible. I said nothing, and this girl commenced to beat the stuffing out of me, and I could not move or hit her back. I was a statue.
Someone called out, "The teacher is coming!"
It was then that my seatmate stopped hitting me, and the imperceptible force to everyone else except me, let me go. Suffice it to say, I was grateful for the interruption. I sat down, and I did not tell anyone in the classroom what had happened. The students thought that I had a change of heart and for that reason my "new bad girl" reputation was not tarnished. To be sure, it was not a change in my heart, it was a miracle.
In 1968, while teaching school in Bad Nauheim, Germany, I resided one week with a very religious woman missionary. Almost every morning she went from door to door espousing the teachings of Jesus Christ to strangers. Often, she invited me to go with her, but I refused. She spoke "in tongue," which led me to believe that she was Pentecostal. Speaking in tongue was against my religious teachings. I reluctantly accepted her invitation to attend church.
Every morning my friend read her Bible while I watched from a distance. I was very discreet because I was afraid that she might ask me to join her. One morning, while lying in bed, I heard her praying. She was praying "in tongue". While she was praying I listened intently, and fell into what I can only describe as a kind of trance-like state. I felt my body levitating from the bed. In front of me was the image of Christ. He was standing behind a glass door very similar to a shower glass door. A crown of thorns covered His Head; and there was a nail print in His Right Foot and His Right Hand. I was amazed and a little frightened. Christ told me not to speak, but I did anyway, and He left.
Many years later, in 1992, I had a dream of a woman whose beauty was beyond description. She was dressed in royal purple, and her image covered the entire sky with stars surrounding her. I cannot remember the entire dream, but I do remember calling out to the people gathered around and asking them to look up. I tried to explain that a beautiful woman adorned the sky. I did not know who she was and had no revelation of her identity in my dream.
One day while driving on the highway, I saw a huge billboard sign with an image of a beautiful woman, much like the woman in my dream. Someone was advertising a trip to Medjugorje. I was so excited that I could not wait to find the meaning of the word Medjugorje. I had nothing to write with, so I kept rehearsing the spelling of the word for hours.
When I returned home, I called around to see if anyone knew that name. Someone suggested trying a Christian bookstore, which I did the following day. The man at the bookstore tried to find information about the word that I had given him. Going by my crude and obvious mispronunciation of the word, he was able to locate the information that I was seeking.
He said, "Where do you want to begin?" He gave me the names of several books, articles, and magazines.
I said that I wanted to begin with "Medjugorje the Message."
The clerk ordered the book that took several days to arrive. When I purchased the book, I read it from cover to cover within a day. After reading "Medjugorje the Message," I wanted the peace and faith that the people in the stories experienced. The Pilgrims seemed to have had the Rosary prayer in common.
I called around to find information about the Rosary. Someone directed me to the Catholic Church. I called the church and asked the receptionist if she knew about something called a Rosary. She said, "Yes." I asked her where could I find a Rosary, and she said that they had them at the church, and that they were free.
At the time of my conversation with the receptionist, the church would be closing within the following fifteen minutes. However, I was thirty walking minutes from the church. After concluding my phone call with the receptionist, I put on my shoes and ran to the church. I was there within fifteen minutes. When I arrived, the receptionist had not left. At my request, she gave me seven Rosaries. I immediately learned the Rosary, and the next day I went to the Church to pray the Rosary.
While in the Church, several people came in and kneeled to pray the Rosary. Years later, I realize that twelve years earlier I had received a Rosary from a friend to help me get through a difficult State exam. I do not remember my friend telling me what he had given me, he just said, "hold onto this, and do not let it go. My mother gave it to me when I was a baby." I was successful. However, while in church I felt good and felt that I was doing the right thing. Much to my surprise, I was in the middle of a Charismatic Mass where the Priest prayed "in tongue". At this point, what my grandfather had taught me, as a youth growing up, about speaking in tongues, did not matter to me. I just wanted to be in the presence of that beautiful woman of my dream.
I asked some of the people at the Mass if they knew about Medjugorje.
Two of them said gleefully, "Yes, We have been there." At that point, I was nothing short of a little puppy following them around the building wanting to hear about Medjugorje.
Finally, a woman asked me, "Would you like to attend the next Medjugorje prayer meeting?"
I, of course, said, "Yes, I would," in response.
The next prayer meeting was to be held the following day, a Saturday. The nice woman graciously offered to drive me to the meeting. The next morning, I was dressed and ready to go an hour before the 11:00 a.m. time that we set. However, the woman did not arrive on time. It would be fair to say that when she was not at my house at 11:00 a.m., I panicked.
She finally arrived, and we went to the prayer meeting together. Beginning that day, I joined the prayer group that honored that beautiful woman, the Blessed Virgin Mary, the Mother of God. In addition to praying the Rosary, we sang beautiful songs, very similar to the ones that I sang in my church, The Church of God.
The same year that I attended the Medjugorje prayer meeting, I joined the Catholic Church, attended daily mass, attended prayer groups on Wednesdays, and the Medjugorje prayer group on Saturdays. I ended up going to a variety of places of worship throughout the United States, so that I could honor our Lady, the Mother of God. Since that time, I have had several dreams of the Mother of God, one where she told me that she loved me.
I fell in love with the Church and my Priest. Even now when I see my Priest, I see the face of Christ. I know if Jesus Christ walked the earth, now, He would not be able to get rid of me.
In another dream of Jesus Christ, the Roman soldiers beat Him, mercifully, with a knotted leather strap, and until His body dripped with blood. While beating Him, they tied His hands to a stone pillar that stood alone in a large building.
When the soldiers had finished beating Christ, they made Him walk down stone steps that had no rails on the side. The building was near a sloped area, and Christ had to walk alone without help. He occasionally fell to the ground because He was weak from being beaten. The ground was sandy clay dirt that made walking difficult. He carried a large, heavy Cross- that was at least nine feet tall. Jesus Christ needed help carrying the Cross-, because it was so heavy and big.
So that Jesus would not be alone, I walked behind Him until He arrived at the plank. He walked across a plank to get to the hill, and there the soldiers would crucify Him. He never complained. His hands were untied. They treated Him worse than a criminal.
Deep water surrounded the bottom of the hill. I knew what was about to happen to Christ. I felt that if I pushed Jesus into the deep water, He would escape crucifixion. Because of my fear of the soldiers, I hesitated, and at that time, awakened, because I was frightened.
I once dreamt that I was in a desert. There was sand as far as the eyes could see, dry land, and no vegetation in sight. I was crawling, on my hands and knees, in the hot desert sand, wearing a dress. My hands and knees made imprints in the sand, while the sand covered my hands. My greatest fear was snakes and scorpions embedded in the golden brown sand.
After having crawled a good distance, I came upon some feet. The feet were bare and wore sandals. I recognized the Feet, right away. They were the Feet of Jesus Christ. He reached down and raised me up. I picked up a hand full of sand, some of it spilling out around my fingers.
I said, "Lord," showing Him the sand that was in my hands, "What about the rest?" meaning the rest of the sand in the desert, which in my dream was depicted to represent the people of the world.
Christ said, "You just take care of that much."
In another dream, I was standing at the bottom of a mountain in Africa. Christ said, "Climb the mountain."
I said, "Lord, I can't climb this mountain. It is too hard."
He said, "I will help you."
Before I awaken, He and I were at the bottom of the mountain getting ready to climb. There were small trees and brush surrounding the mountain.
In the late nineties, I dreamt of Hell.
In my dream, I was with a woman and we passed a place that looked like a nightclub. The men standing guard in the doorway were very handsome, muscular and wore Roman soldier outfits. From outside you could see beautiful bright lights, the most beautiful lights that you have ever seen. They were blinking and bright, like a disco club. The woman wanted to go inside, but I was reluctant and had cautioned her against it. Something did not feel right. She insisted, and went in first; I followed behind her. I called out to her, suggesting that we should leave, but she insisted on going all of the way inside. When she went further inside, she fell into a place referred to as hell. I did not see flames, although the area was bright red. I looked down and I could not see her. I remembered praying and asking God to send her some water. All I could hear was moaning. I remembered thinking that the way to hell is beautiful and attractive.
Also in the nineties, I dreamt of Heaven. One dream was about God and Jesus. God was sitting upon His Throne, and I walked up behind Him. I ask Him if I could stay in Heaven, with Him, and be of service. I told God that I could take care of my family from Heaven. I remember Heaven being so peaceful. I did not see God's face, but I could see His profile, which looked a little like Marlon Brando in the God Father. God told me that He wanted me to return to earth and serve His Son. At that time, I looked to my right and there was Jesus. He did not look at me, because He knew what I had been planning, and He did not look like Revelations 2:18. When I saw Jesus, he was so handsome and I said, "He must have taken after His mother." When I woke up, out of the dream, I said, "That was dumb, I know that Jesus heard me."
I once dreamt that I was in Heaven looking for my Uncle, who had recently died. I saw many people whom I did not recognize. I saw a man and I ask him if he knew several of my relatives, whom I named. As I named them I could see them, but he did not know them. When I described my Uncle and called him by name, the man responded and said, "Oh you mean the new guy." He said that he did not live in that section of Heaven, he lived in the other section of Heaven, and he pointed me in the direction of my Uncle.
Later that same year I had a dream of my Uncle in Heaven, again, and in this dream he was sitting on a long stairway to Heaven. The stairway was massive and Heaven was so beautiful; all of the buildings were the same color, much like the buildings in Jerusalem. They were gray.
Once, I was in England and I went to a Catholic Church where miracles had occurred. While praying and during the Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament, I noticed the Consecrated Eucharistic Host in a gold colored Monstrance turning red. At first, I thought that my eyes were deceiving me, but there was nothing in sight that could have caused the Consecrated Host to turn red. Someone said that this happens sometimes and I expected it. After a few hours the Consecrated Host turned back to its normal color.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Barack Hussein Obama.... Few Are Chosen by Sam Copyright © 2012 by Sam. Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Table of Contents
Contents
Introduction: The Request: "I Want This President To Fail"....................1Chapter 1: I Saw an Angel....................11
Chapter 2: So Help Me God "A New Birth of Freedom"....................29
Chapter 3: "A More Perfect Union"....................41
Chapter 4: He is Barack Hussein Obama, But They Call Him Moses....................63
Chapter 5: Dream Makers Who Changed History and "Prophesized Barack Hussein Obama" (The Mystery of the Number 100 and the Number 40)....................91
Chapter 6: From Clinton (42) to Obama (44) The Land of Promise "A Place Called HOPE"....................117
Chapter 7: The African American Church, Politics, Barack Obama, and Then Came Jeremiah Wright "Ready or Not"....................135
Chapter 8: America's First African American Exceptionalism (African American Sons and Daughters)....................167
Chapter 9: "Forcing Scared Against the President" "They Will Have To Answer Before God For This."....................189
Chapter 10: "With All Due Respect, Barack ..." A Radical..... Really?....................207
Chapter 11: Will the Real Mr. Speaker Stand? "Mr. Speaker, Don't Cry For Me"....................225
Chapter 12: Guess Who Is Coming To the TEA Party?....................235
Chapter 13: Commonly Referred To Accomplishments of President Barack Obama....................257
Bibliography....................265