Immediately I was wide awake. At the time I could scarcely understand what was happening, but it wasn't a dream. Those kinds of feelings don't happen in a dream. God allowed me to experience a vision that would create an indelible impression on my young life.

The unusual breeze I felt, however, was more like a wave. I felt it go down one arm and up the other. I actually felt it moving. The same thing happened when people saw Christ. They immediately saw their own filth, their need of cleansing.

I wasn't singing the way I normally sang in church. I sang with my entire being. And when we came to the words, "Then sings my soul, my Savior God, to thee," I literally sang it from my soul.

It was at that moment, at a charismatic service in an Anglican church, that this good little Catholic from a Greek Orthodox home made a public confession of his acceptance of Christ. "Jesus," I said, "I'm asking you to be the Lord of my life."

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Kathryn began ministering to the people, but I was so lost in the Spirit that it really didn't matter. The Lord was closer to me than He had ever been. Here's what was amazing. God didn't heal me when I was sitting in the audience. He didn't heal me when I was walking up to the platform. He didn't heal me when I stood behind the pulpit. God performed the miracle when I opened my mouth. mother and father had no inkling. Keeping it quiet for so long was a miracle in itself. My brothers knew, but they didn't dare tell Dad because they knew it would be the end of Benny. GOOD MORNING, HOLY SPIRIT The Lord didn't say anything to me. He just looked at me. And then He disappeared. Immediately I was wide awake. At the time I could scarcely understand what was happening, but it wasn't a dream. Those kinds of feelings don't happen in a dream. God allowed me to experience a vision that would create an indelible impression on my young life. As I awakened, the wondrous sensation was still there. I opened my eyes and looked all around, but this intense, powerful feeling was still in me. I felt totally paralyzed. I couldn't move a muscle. Not an eyelash. I was completely frozen there. Yet I was in control. This unusual feeling overtook me—but didn't dominate me. In fact, I felt I could say, \"No, I don't want this,\" and the experience would have lifted. But I didn't say anything. While I lay there, awake, the feeling stayed with me, then slowly went away. In the morning I told my mother about the experience, and she still remembers her words. She said, \"You must be a saint, then.\" Things like that didn't happen to people in Jaffa, whether they were Catholic or Greek Orthodox. Of course, I was certainly no \"saint,\" but my mother believed that if Jesus came to me, He must be singling me out for a higher calling. While God was dealing with my life, other factors were at work that would forever change the future of our family. THE ENDS OF THE EARTH From Gaza to the Golan Heights Living in Israel during the sixties, I could feel the