After serving some 27 years behind the walls of federal prisons, having to live a continual adjustment to the complex-reality of federal inmate life — Made It! Free [now] for five years, finally arrived at that point where [now] I’m able [both] to enjoy the goodness and respect of God’s love, as well as to enjoy, appreciate, and respect the beauty and love of being part of a loving family and community as well.
Preparation for this journey included my own personal 40-year study and research of the Urantia Book itself, a two thousand page book of spiritual, philosophical, scientific and religious teachings, to answer the many questions I myself clearly had as to the realities of spirit energy. And finally, as a result of my research and study, over the same 5-year period discussed above, I additionally compiled a blog [Search https://revelatorytruths.blog] where it’s posts attempt to give a more ‘down-to-earth’ understanding to the average reader of those most complex revelations as explained and compiled in the Urantia Book.
The blog currently has thousands of viewers, individuals [now] from over 200 global countries; and primarily is read and researched by those seeking to find some specific answer(s) to some specific question(s); or presenting some other specific interest in the research and study of some specific spiritual truth as compiled and presented.
And it all had it’s very beginning in the little town of Tuskegee Institute, Tuskegee Alabama.
Born DOUGLAS Gene MAYBERRY, August 18, 1946 @ 6:50 a.m. CST, Tuskegee John A. Hospital, Tuskegee Institute, Alabama 36088; Dr. Mitchell, Staff Pediatrician. My father, Dr. Bennie Douglas Mayberry, was a Professor at Tuskegee Institute, born November 07, 1911, being 35 years old at my birth; and Selena Irene Williams Mayberry, my mother, having earned her Master’s Degree in Education, was a teacher at Alabama A&M, born July 5, 1915, and was 31 years old at the time of my birth.
Primarily raised as a big, spoiled brat, my parents were not deeply involved in my development as a ‘cultured’ human being. Wild and crazy, with very little discipline, I grew up within the simple illusion that I was “all that”, but in reality: I was none of that!
The emphasis of my family was one of getting money and spending it primarily to show off: clothes, shoes, job title, where you lived, what you drive, whatever, and the beat goes on. Thus was the lifestyle I myself developed while growing up as a child in the Tuskegee Upper Black Class group, caring such erratic behavior fully into my young adult years.
My mother, Selena Irene Williams Mayberry, came from a rich family from Birmingham, Alabama. She was born among 13 sisters and brothers. My daddy, Dr. Bennie Douglas Mayberry, came from an extremely poor family from Tallassee, Alabama, and also had 13 brothers and sisters.
‘Eugene’, my maternal grandfather’ was involved in real estate and bought a home for each of his children. However, his success cost him his life. It is said that the Jim Crow Whites became jealous of his success and killed him on the train tracks there in Birmingham. And thereafter, my mother’s mother, grandmother Irene, died after her last child, almost a year later, was born. Grandmother Irene’s death left my mother pretty much adrift at the tender age of 15. And it was a sad period when our extended family members began snatching the kids up one-by-one just to get portions of my grandfather Eugene’s wealth.
As to my mother, she went to Tuskegee University, appropriately named: Tuskegee Institute in those days. She eventually got a Master’s Degree in Education, when she began her teaching career.
My parents met at Tuskegee Institute. My dad was 26 and my mother was in her late teens. As a student enrolled in the field of Agriculture. my dad’s job on campus was to clean the horse barn,. Daddy came from a poor family. His dad was a teacher, and his mama was a midwife.
My mother’s money and her people’s money [thus] helped to finance Daddy being awarded his doctorate at Michigan State. And after he got his doctorate and the family moved back to Tuskegee, my mother bought my father a hotel there in Tuskegee. A subsequent dispute my mother and father had, and accusations about the hotel’s clientele, led my mother to the point where she decided never to work again and demanding that my father take care of her and their son. And he agreed! So thereafter, and then on, Daddy would go to work and Mama would get his checks to manage the household. Daddy was ok with it as he didn’t know about managing money, whereas my mom had grown up with money. I never had to want for any material things.
After leaving Michigan State, because my Daddy could not find housing for our family because of the prevailing racist housing practices. And afterward, I never remember my parents mentioning leaving Tuskegee and the South again. It was what they knew. Daddy had experienced racism firsthand, and he had a good job that provided a comfortable middle class living for our family.
After getting his doctorate, Daddy taught in the Agriculture Department at Tuskegee Institute. He went from teaching to being head of the Department. In that role, his responsibility was to write educational programs to get money for his department and the community. And what was realized by the academic community was that my Daddy had a God-given talent to write and get programs funded. [And privately, that’s really where I get a lot of my writing ability from, and how my son gets his writing talent, as well. The bottom line is that everybody recognized his talent. That’s how Tuskegee got the City Hall building, the Model Cities Program, the Holiday Inn, the Dog Racing Track, and Tuskegee Industrial Park and Airport expansion, the Community Action Program, and the beat goes on!.
To this day, I had hated Tuskegee had served as the culture arena for my upbringing and young development. I was raised in a bourgeois family. My father, Dr. B.D. Mayberry, was a faculty member and renown agronomy researcher, professor and mentor at Tuskegee Institute.3 Later in his career as an administrator there, he also went on to write numerous community development grants to serve Tuskegee Institute, the city and surrounding rural communities. I guess you could say that these programs were his contribution to the Civil Rights Movement as they helped a lot of poor people in the area. Some of the programs that were funded were part of the federal government’s Antipoverty Programs of the 1960’s and 1970’s.
As a result of the time my father spent teaching, researching and writing, I felt I did not have a father, he was never at home. As a child, I would wake up at 6:30 in the morning, and Daddy would be gone. He would go to his office or to his friend’s house. My question was always why he was going to someone else’s house dealing with their family so early in the morning. In the meanwhile, I ain’t got no daddy! I didn’t know what was happening, but at the time, I knew that my mother was mad. I was alone most of the time. I did have a half-sister. Daddy and my half-sister had a closer relationship than he had with me. Relatives began to say she was too smart to be going to school in Alabama, so eventually they sent her to Washington, DC to live with relatives to finish her education.
Here I am ten to 11 years old, and all of that angry mother energy was falling on this boy, so I would do her deeds. I don’t know if that’s what she intended, but that was the bottom line. Whatever my request, foolish as it was or may have been, having whatever my lack of responsibility, I would get whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted it.
It was never presented to me to have a moment’s doubt that I could not have whatever I wanted. Whenever Mama, or who I called Daddy, would immediately respond and bring whatever I wanted. Consequently, that was the environment in which I was raised. Out of all those years, we never sat down as a family to eat, other than a few times at Christmas or Thanksgiving. I felt that I never had the influence of a father. I had the influence of learning to be a spoiled irresponsible brat. I felt I didn’t have anybody to instruct me…nobody was there to instruct me on any career development or how to be a responsible husband, father, or Christian. I do not remember any of that. No, I felt that I was just a rabid fool living as a spoiled brat.
I felt that my dad’s position became, “I don’t want to raise no brat! I grew up a poor man. I don’t know nothing about that! Let his mama raise him as she will and wants.”
And Daddy?, he went off about town and up to his office and other activities such as his womanizing required. I rarely saw him. I never saw him hold hands with my mother. I never saw him hug her. I cannot even ever remember being hugged by either my mother or my father. There was no, “I love you Dougie, or what are you doing Dougie, or what are you planning on Dougie? None of that. It was “How much you need, boy? Here.” My father would give me some money and run off with speed. That’s the attitude I picked up on when I went to Howard University.
I had just turned 17 when I finished Tuskegee Institute High School and went to Howard University. I am in the Class of ‘64, but I graduated early with the Class of “63 by going to summer school. I went straight into the remedial classes at Howard. You see, in high school, I was Dr. Mayberry’s son, sometimes I did not go to class or do the work, but I still passed. My attitude was f…ked up with arrogance because of who my daddy was!
Everybody knew who he was. He used to showboat me. He would put a suit on me and take me to one of his presentations and he would say, “Oh, that is my son here in the audience, and blah blah blah. I didn’t know what to do, so I’d smile, sit down like a good little boy, and then he would drop me back to the house. I really do not fault my father because I do not think he knew any better. He didn’t have the experience of being a father.
I do not fault my mother because she really got her money too early in her life. I do fault the culture they raised me in. They were unaware of the effects that the culture they were raising me in were having on me. The Black culture in Tuskegee at the time was high on recognition and competition; competition for the best homes, the best cars, the best clothes, the highest degrees, the best jobs, straight materialism –not only among our parents, “those who stayed”, but among their children as well.
In high school, I felt that my daddy left me to be raised by a mother who was interested in buying me clothes and making sure they all matched and that I was bought the right car. All of that history was just to say it took me 5 ½ years to do a 4-year degree in accounting at Howard University
And what did Daddy do when I went to Howard? Daddy came up there to pay all the bills. He paid the $10,000 a semester for tuition and put me in an apartment. He bought me a new car and bought me clothes, all this to keep me from Mama. After a while, he did say, “I see what this is, Dougie. You have turned into a professional student.” He did not have time to help his boy out and talk about what he was doing wrong. I felt that his attitude was damn what your grades are and damn that you ain’t doing nothing! Damn that you ain’t got no job and damn that you get all the money you need anyway. I felt that his attitude was “I don’t know how to raise your crazy ass and you are your mama’s boy anyway.
When I finished Howard University, I worked for the Federal Aviation Administration as an accountant for a while. They hired me and I’m the only black working in there. They gave me no assignment(s), so I used to always just sit there drawing. So, of course, I eventually quit that job and my parents set me up in an apartment overlooking the city. They sent me a check every month, and I would blow it. They were paying all the bills. I didn’t know about saving. I rebelled again and quit that job.
After graduation, I was in the army between 1970 and 1972 as a lieutenant — a result of Howard’s Reserve Officers Training Corps (ROTC) program. And it was working directly with the Commanding General of 5,000 soldiers at Fort Lewis, Washington, where I really learned to write. And as the only Black lieutenant in the entire Ft. Lewis Army Camp of some 5,000 men, they made me Director of Drug Research, flying up and down the West Coast to instruct officers about the effects of drug probabilities to possibly be experienced by those returning from overseas. And I had to deal with a lot of racism because of that. My position as I had been taught while growing up [however] was just to ignore the racism. [So I would say like: damn you ignorant ass White Folks, I got money, too!
(Were you in the ROTC at Howard? If not, how did you advance to lieutenant so quickly. Why did being in the military not give you the discipline and fortitude you needed at that time to live the life you wanted to live?)
- Yes, I was a Cadet Lt. Colonel; overseeing 200 cadets under my command.
- Being in the military was not an experience in leadership for me, that was for the White folks during that time. It was better described as a class in abject racism; if you can imagine being the only black officer, working under the direct command of the Commanding General, amongst a cadre of thousands of white officers who wish to have your position, in which you [only] stand.
At this point in my life, my rebellious nature really came out!
When it came time for me to look for a job, I had no insight. Mama did not know anything. She had not had a job. I relied on pops. He put me in situations where I basically became a reflection of him. I was not dealing with my own career. I was exchanging his career for mine and that turned into my rejection of his concept and doing my own thing. I became a program writer for my daddy’s department at the University. I was paid $8,000 a year to be a grant writer. I was 24 years old.
In that position, I wrote a grant similar to the community drug education grant I had written in Fort Lewis, Washington, and it was funded for $1,800,000 for 3 years. The money came in. Because of the poor employment situation there in Tuskegee at the time, I had talked to many of my friends and found out which ones I really wanted to bring onto the project if it were funded. But, unknowing to me, my father and his colleagues decided they were going to do something else with the money and decided not to allow me to hire my friends. I got very angry and confronted them. Instead of pops backing me, he and his friends played me. I had written the drug education program grant and it had been funded to serve Black residents in 12 counties surrounding and including Macon County. I had begun to identify people in the community who needed jobs and who could help with the grant. Even the salary they had been promised me was lowered. My daddy and his colleagues took the money and decided to completely do something else with it. I was angry. Being arrogant, rebellious and irresponsible, I quit! I didn’t know what I was doing.
After the altercation with my dad and his colleagues, I ran home to Mama. I told her that Daddy had taken the money. She said, Told you: “Once a dog, always a dog”. Now come on in this house. What do you want, boy? I said, there’s a pizza shop for sale and it costs $5,000.00. My mother called my father and ten minutes later, he arrived with a check for $5,000 for me to open a pizza place. I was still angry because I had written the grant for $I.8 million dollars and all I was getting was $5,000.
The pizza parlor, located next door to Lionel Richie’s house, opened and it did really well. I was making about $200 a day because it was close to campus and many students and friends came in. At that time, it was doing better than many other businesses in the area. However, less than six-months later, the Pizza Parlor was closed because the taxes were not paid. I was depending on my father’s accountant to pay the taxes, but they were not paid. I always suspected sabotage and that someone else in the community wanted the place. I was asking myself, why was my father so angry at me. Actually, he was not angry at me, he was angry at Mama and often used me to get back at her. I had blown my earnings, so I could not pay the taxes myself.
At that time, I was at the point of total frustration. I basically rebelled and bounced around places from New York to New Orleans to Mexico and ended up in Los Angeles. In Los Angeles, I was driving around in a Mercedes, but I did not have any money. The person I had been travelling with left town without telling me. I was stuck. During those times when I was stuck, I didn’t know shit. I didn’t know what to do. I still had this attitude that I am Dr. Mayberry’s son. When the money was gone, I was just trying to survive.
One day, I was driving around Las Vegas in my Mercedes with no job. A woman invited me to stay with her in LA. Of course I agreed, having no other place to stay. Later on that week, one of her friends borrowed my car and had ran over a curb and busted the airbags in the car. He said he had no money, but that he knew how to get money to fix the car, but he needed my help.
He introduced me to cooking PCP. I had never heard about this kind of stuff. I saw an opportunity to get some money though, not looking at any illegal aspects. I just needed money and that’s why I approached it blindly. I began to make lots of money cooking PCP, enough money to even help other people buy cars, pay house notes, and/or give money to their grandmas and other family members.
My son was up here yesterday. He said something to me that I thought was out of place. I did what my father should have done with me. I told my son, “I am still your dad, and you are my son. We can squabble all day because you know I am arrogant and you are selfish and I am selfish and we can play those roles all day. You know I love you, but you ain’t going to talk to me anyway you like. At the end of the day, I am your father, and it is my responsibility to instruct you.” I had to do with him what my dad didn’t do with me. I had to sit him down and talk to him. I said to him, “You are going to get a job, pay these bills and you’re going to make sure your mama’s straight.”
Ain’t anybody tell me that? People ask me, “Why don’t you like this or why don’t you like that about your family? There was no structure, no advice, no discipline, no hugs, no how are you feeling or I love you, Dougie, and no kisses from Mama and Daddy. There was none of that “good mama” because she was always mad because he wouldn’t do things, and because she didn’t know love. She just went to our TV upstairs and then she ain’t got no problems you couldn’t fix with a TV.
That’s basically the s..t I saw growing up. There was no talking. I would be downstairs just watching baseball, TV shows and playing music trying to entertain myself. I had no brothers, no sisters, no cousins, nothing– just mama, and she was upstairs. I became the roadkill of my parents’ unhappy life. That was pretty much my lifestyle. I have always been like, “I’ll go to the house. That room is mine. Don’t come in and bother me.” I became selfish and now what I understand from God’s point of view is that He does not want you with all that old business?? up in your head. During my life, I was f..king trying so hard to get rid of it.
Now, I get to use that computer, but I am still trying to get rid of all that old business in my head. That old business still fights me, so who the ????? they’re kidding each other ’cause they don’t have an understanding.
I had no understanding of how to manage and save money and to then get out of the game. I just knew that if I got broke, I could roll over and have $30,000 in my pocket. But I didn’t know what to do with it. I was being foolish with it. The bottom line is after 3 years of this madness, the FBI came and indicated that I had the reputation of being the third best cooker of PCP in the United States. I had become a threat to those in the business. Now, in addition, the people in the business recognized my leadership ability and considered that as well as a threat because of my psychological dominance over the average dope dealer. This situation also bought to me the realization that I was smart. I didn’t realize how foolish and stupid I was and that I really didn’t have the command of the culture I was working in, so I couldn’t be successful. Today they would kill me for doing what I was doing, but at that time they just called the police. That’s what happened in my case. They called the police.
I really could cook PCP. The FBI even has me listed as the 3rd best cooker in the United States. What happened on the cooker thing was this: When I first went in to where they were cooking, I saw the money that was being made. The next time we went, I memorized everything about the way it was being cooked; what degrees, what the power levels should be and how often and at what stages to make your mixtures. I memorized all that in my head because I didn’t want them to know I was stealing. I robbed them of all that knowledge, and I went out and applied what I had learned and made lots of money too. I had no idea of the environment of which I was working in. Long story short is I went to jail. They gave me the maximum of 5 years and I did 5 years.
(Why did you not get out of the game when you got out?) Didn’t get out because I was really offered or knew of any other alternative that would enable such lucrative gains. Real problem was, never considered the consequences upon both me and all the druggies involved.)
After cooking PCP for several years in the Los Angeles area and doing 5 years in prison for it, and then going on to develop a drug organization in New York, designed to attract Black people to the trade as consumers or sellers, I came home to Tuskegee to develop an organization in the Macon County, Alabama area. The last time I was in Tuskegee, I had been the publicly respected son of a publicly respected Tuskegee University Dean. This time, I decided to make and sell drugs at a level that would not draw too much attention. However, as in dealing with PCP itself, and the people involved in the life, I was eventually arrested.
I ended up in the court of Judge Myron Thompson, one of our younger Tuskegee Institute High School classmates who had gone to Yale. Myron was later appointed the youngest ever Federal District judge by President Carter. My parents had wanted me to go to Harvard… I was looking at Myron and he was looking at me. At that time, I was thinking how he had sold out to the White man. In my head, I was also thinking about what he might be thinking of me. Maybe he was thinking, “Look at this n…… and what he has done with his life.”
My father had paid the attorney (‘Snapper’ Albert C. Bulls, Jr.) $15,000. That time, I was acquitted of the charges. As a result of winning that little case …. Now I was really f…ked up in my thinking: that I can do anything. I thus continued in the life until I had (kept) been arrested several times and had done a total of some 27 years in prison. I was arrogant and stupid.
When I got out, I met some people and I went to New York. He was getting his PHD and his wife as a local TV Host. They let me move into their house, and they went and bought another one. After a few months, they asked for rent. My attitude was this. You need rent? You asked me to come up here and help you develop this organization and get an opening in the Black community and that’s what I came to do. Now you want to charge me rent?
So, after 4 and a half unsuccessful years in New York, I was back in Tuskegee, and it was scary of course. I thought: I ain’t got nothing to do. Ain’t got no jobs, and future Daddy programs don’t include me. And I didn’t like going down there in that city at all. (Please explain Why) Didn’t like it due to constant beg of residence to help some problem they themselves seem to want to keep as an excuse for their projected failures.
I had developed another drug organization in New York and began to develop one in the Tuskegee area. After I won the drug case in the Opelika, Alabama court of Judge Myron Thompson, I continued in the business. But I decided I would stop the PCP business because they gave too much time for that. Deciding to go into the weed business instead and just sell it to people I knew.
Just getting on the phone and make calls to people that I knew, I was doing quite well. But unknown to me, I was making all the other dealers jealous. They would come out to my house and tell me what my prices should be. Telling me I was being arrogant and me telling them that they could not tell me what to do.
They were coming hard at me. Even one day, one of them came over there to kill me. He shot me in the back. He shot at me several more times, but I am sure it was the angels that pushed me out of the way. I could feel the bullets coming past my head. I knew the cop down there, and we were going over the scene. You could see how the bullets were coming straight down toward me, but still each of them to came to miss.
I went to the hospital but they didn’t take the bullet out. The nurse cleaned the wound out and everything and instructed my wife on how to continue to do that. The bottom line was since they didn’t kill me, I continued in the business until I had done another 22 years in prison.
All of this is to say that as a result of how I was raised as an arrogant bastard, I didn’t know how to have proper relationships with the various complexities of people. I was totally alone. I was raised alone. I lived alone. Even now, I am happier alone. Not being bothered with anybody else and their problems.
My personal and spiritual growth began in prison when I was introduced to the Urantia Book. I have been reading and researching it for over 20 years. I did all that studying while I was in the joint. When I got out, it took me 5 years to build up the blog.
While in the El Reno Federal prison, I was the lead business inmate for the prison business manager. I got close to a German guy who also was an inmate and worked there. He didn’t know business accounting like I did, but he was a good talker and when we got to talking, we pretty much hit it off as good friends. At the time, he was a follower of the Urantia philosophy, and I was the Iman of the Muslim prison community, and so he thought I would be interested in it. Thus a whole new chapter in my living began to evolve.
The Urantia Papers or the Fifth Epochal Revelation is basically for intellectuals. The book is said not to be written by natural beings. It is telepathic. Initially, I could not understand it, so I put the book down on the desk. And after 6 months of it setting there, I decided to pick it up again.
I was in Reno, Nevada at the time doing 3 years and waiting to go to the State of California to do 2 more years. That must have been between 1978 to 1981. The second I got so bored I started getting involved in what I could understand. I told ‘Duffy’, the German man that introduced me to the book, that I needed some help and was going to write a letter for the leaders of Urantia Foundation to come and talk to me, but all the time I was thinking they ain’t coming out here to see no Nigger. He said, “I know, but they will come out here for you. I will write a letter for you.”
They agreed and an older lady named Miss Berkeley, a retired accountant and International Chairman of the Urantia Foundation, the controlling group to ensure non-destruction of the Urantia Book, came to see me. And as time passed, more and more people came throughout to discuss issues with me. I started questioning everything about me. Some of them were Jewish. They came in to see me on Sunday and would sit down and read a few chapters and discuss them, but it was not penetrating my psychic. It was just knowledge to me. To me, it had also begun to feel like propagation. Urantia was not supposed to be about propagation of the ideology. I was trying to form a special point of view because if there are 2.1 billion angels on this planet that operate, I wanted to know about our humanity, our origin, and how we got to this point.
Urantia ideology is about evolution, how it gives you all the spiritual and mental capacities and how immaterial energies flow. The ideology specifically lays out how the angels control things. Sure, God creates us for Him to function, and in our case, we must learn how to be as Him. There are a few of us like this, that is, children of God. Most people are just the functionaries. Individuals have roles that they play, and God gives them personality because so we can speak, agree or disagree with Him about what particular role He wants us to play.
In terms of my relationship to Urantia, I feel that I had nobody to talk to about spirituality my whole life, especially in the growing up period. I did not know anything about spirituality, and I didn’t talk to anybody, so I had to get myself into self-questioning and research. When I was in jail in Texarkana, AK in 1981, I recognized that many people could not read, much less in understanding what they actually were reading.. I never recognized it in Los Angeles, but I recognized it in the South, that is that some people had problems reading and understanding. I have been on that page as I was during high school. I didn’t know how to deal with my reading issue then, but I have come to that space where I am on the springboard. I can go to that point of understanding immediately. I must share this as I do on the blog. I am not interested in going in and writing some books and making some money. I attempt to share what I have learned on the level of the particular person having very little or no foundation to grow from.
I don’t want to be held up in the Urantia Foundation by White folks as an example. I rebelled because they wanted me to be the Nigger up in the organization, but they never knew everything it took for me to get here. I do not want to be like a little show dog or some s..t and answer their questions so they can show me off. I ain’t going to do that. With my rebellious nature, I made a a decision to do the blog independently and acquire the understanding that I now have without being involved with the White folks who wanted me to take on a subjugated role to them in their group. I just told them that I was joining God instead of them.
I found that the biggest impediment to Urantia for me and others is that the words and ideas seem too deep. I understand that because it took me since 1981 to acquire the understanding that I now try to share. There are a few Blacks who are followers of the philosophy, but many Black people do not understand all this stuff. So, what I try to do is take it downstairs as best I can, so they can get a clear understanding of what the hell this is that I do, and they should certainly come to do.
I have learned that God controls the environment, not only me, but my environment. God moved me around in different environments during my life, and he showed me my errors by the arrests I accumulated.
Understanding and growth becomes a 2-way communication with God based on what is in the environment. At some point, He said I was moving forward. Maybe what you are doing every day is not what He is instructing. Basically, God wants you to sit down and get your s..t together. He is saying that he is trying to raise the whole humanity of this planet up to a higher level of spirit understanding, and he needs some help.
According to Urantia philosophy, there are humans that evolve to the spirit level. There are things they are going to tell you that are recommendations and there are duties for you. The spirits can have direct communication with you. It’s so funny, but I can communicate with the spirits. I can read the messages of these spiritual beings with my mind. For example, I wake up in the morning and have a clear mind. I am glad to get up, sit down at a computer and it just hits me. All I do is type what comes to me. It is me talking about God. I just post it on the blog. I have done nothing willingly to bring anybody to the blog or the philosophy because my position was and continues to be: I was instructed by the spirit of truth. I learn as I am typing because it is not me writing and instructing. It is as if God is saying this is what I want you to write, and this is the way I want you to write it. I don’t have to figure all that s..t out. God figures it out and I only put it in the blog. It does take me one or two hours to write less than one minute of actual content because I have to screw around with the rhyming and the wording, and the structure, but I get all that instruction too.
What I am trying to say is that all of my rebellion has led me to realize I do indeed need God. All of the issues I have been involved in were God’s way of telling me He is the best to guide you, bottom line!
That is what it got to in my transition to the ability to read the recent revelations to our planet with understanding, which I never had before.
It took me some time to learn that it was enough to listen and read with understanding. My focus was not taking in ideas. My focus was on giving ideas and instruction to others. Now what comes in from God are all the money and tools I need to give me the environment I really need for the project at hand. I did not create all this.
Before I had to hustle. Now I get everything I need because I am doing God’s bidding. I am trying to pass that on to those who want to listen and know that they do not have to hustle as well. I have learned that doing this bit in life is so much easier. You have just no need to [then] further hustle.
You come to serve them on a level whatever their current understanding might [currently] be. For who is it that you can talk to on a spirit level they (to date) they have not been exposed.. Ain’t nobody at this and all that. They don’t know that level. So you’ve got to have these interim blogs posted for individuals and in these groups. Your objective being to get that one person, Bob, to the level of God daily ‘functioning’ through him. And that’s a difficult journey,. As told, I didn’t arrive until I in my sixties, a reality Jesus attained before He was 35.
When I put it all together, I thought, hey man, no wonder God did you like this. He wanted you for His use. Whatever I tried in society; never would ever work. And it was there that I then came to truly understand it: the government programs, the drug episodes — Tuskegee “ideas”, were all His guides to lead me to His way.. Now I even think about the way my grant project turned out with my father happened as it did, was for as well that reason. I understand now that God didn’t want my daddy’s influence on me any longer. What God was doing with me was evolving His planet for His use — and it ain’t over yet.
1 Mayberry, Jr., Douglas, The Revelatory Truth Blog
2 Urantia Book The Urantia Papers or the Fifth Epochal Revelation is said to be a “spiritual, philosophical, and religious book that originated in Chicago.
The Urantia Book
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
|The Urantia Book|
|Publisher||Urantia Foundation (original), others (since becoming public domain in 2001)|
|Publication date||12 October 1955|
|Media type||Print (Hardback & Paperback)|
|Pages||2,097 (1st edition)|