Message in the Rain – The Opening 

We Meet AgainRemembering Dr. Frederick G. Sampson
By Ike Austin III

Once again, an assembly, an audience of living entities, materialized to an assemble in one place of which I can only best describe as “an opening.”  This galactic opening was silently and rapidly expanding among-est the surrounding cosmos encompassing millions of galaxies. This… opening would be observable from many locations and each location of attendees could be separated by great distances. But, all attention is focused in one direction, in the direction of one identified ages ago in dreams by those who spoke intently and attentively to emphasize the name… the one known as… “the DayStar.”  In closing many of my dreams and before departing m would say… messengers of my dreams would say… “Remember the DayStar.”

This opening, silently and seamlessly materializes, extended over an incalculable distance, permitting all those so endowed, to see and witness a most rare experience of oration taking place on a galactic scale.

During this assembly, I stand in a translucent existence among both those of the living and those that have passed on. Suddenly, my attention was drawn to a person who was staring at me from the other side across a section of the great void. The individual started moving excitedly on the outer fringes of the immense crowd of entities,  I immediately recognized him as an old preacher that had passed-on years before, I  jubilantly acknowledged his attention. The preacher–who’s name was Dr. Frederick G. Sampson–pressed his way toward my position and i pressed toward Dr. Sampson; upon reaching one another, we strongly embraced.  At this moment, I expressed how much I use to… e-n-j-o-y his sermons and would s-u-r-e like to hear him preach again!  I am summoned here for the same reason you are he said, we are all manifested at this particular opening to witness the oration of the truly great one… referred to as… “distant thunder.”

I recall when I was a young man, I would slip into a mild trance-like state and could hear far away sermons. I would try to describe these experiences to my beloved mother as something that sounded more like semi-unintelligible low muffled thundering’s far off in the distance; although I could not understand the orations back then, I was keenly aware of the invisible listening audiences expressing profuse exuberance and emotional response to the orator’s spoken words.

As I grew older, I would often hear thunderings where there was no rain, no clouds in the sky and the sun shining brightly.  Message in the Rain