On the Second Day of Hanukkah, December, 1995, the Lord gave me an experience in heaven that was shared in Heaven Awaits the Bride. Here is the illustration that was drawn on the day of the revelation—along with the text:

THE POOL OF REFLECTION

After we arrived in Paradise, I found that I was sitting alone near a clear, round pool of water. On the opposite side of the pool, shrubbery was growing in geometric shapes—squares, rectangles, triangles, and circles. These shapes were reflected within the pool…

It was unusually still by the pool, like being in the eye of a hurricane. I swung my legs around, putting my feet into the water. They hardly made a ripple. Strange.

“Where am I?” I asked myself.

“The pool of reflection,” a child’s voice answered from behind me.

“Uh oh,” I said within myself because I recognized the voice. “Crystal Clear,” I smiled faintly as I turned to face her.

There she stood, her hair still tousled as if from play. She was wearing the same pale shift and pinafore. She looked five or six years of age. However, she had old eyes. At times I could see through her arm or leg. She was a spirit.

“You have come back to see us,” she exclaimed cheerily. “We L-O-V-E, love you,” she continued, spelling out the word “love” as if it were in a child’s song.

I sighed painfully within myself as I remembered the last time I had seen her. “But,” I thought, “perhaps this time will be different.” I decided to ask her about the pool. “What is the pool of reflection.”

“It is a place where you can see yourself very clearly,” she said.

I was not sure that I liked that idea. “Does one wish to reflect upon oneself?” I asked coolly, my flesh suddenly rising up and being as sly, legalistic, and evasive as the flesh always is.

She continued as though she did not notice. “You might want to take a look to see if you are cooperating with God or resisting Him. Do you want to look into the pool? She asked brightly.

THE DECISION

Of course, I did not want to look into the pool. However, I was beginning to hear in my own voice, as well as in the hardness of my heart, my resistance to correction.

Shortly before arriving at the pool, I was telling the Lord that I would give up anything and everything in order to gain more of Him. Now with my first opportunity to allow this declaration to become experiential in my life, I was balking. “Do you think I should look?” I asked limply.

“It might help,” she replied.

With a sigh, I took my feet out of the water and lay down on my stomach to look into the pool. I was amazed. I saw Jesus’s face reflected in the water instead of my own. But here were geometric objects stuck onto His head and face. “What are these objects,” I asked.

“Blocks,” she said. “You are blocking Him. They make the face of Jesus look really ugly.”

She leaned over to look at my face in the pool. “Hmmm,” she said as if making a diagnosis. “You need to unstick the glue.”
“Unstick the glue?” I asked, “How do I do that?”

REPENTANCE

“Repentance,” she said matter-of-factly. “Repentance unsticks the glue.” She pulled back to look at me directly instead of at my reflection.

I sat up to look into her face. She shook her head from side as children do when correcting one another. Speaking in a slow, singsong manner, she said: “You’re too old to play with blocks.” Before I could answer her, she vanished.