“What do I do?” I asked.
“Wait, Anna,” my Father said.
There was silence in heaven. It was as though everything held its breath. Everyone in the throne room was silent. Gradually, with a gentle, pleasant breeze, the garment moved toward me. I held out my arms as if someone were going to help me put on a coat. The mantle was shimmering. It was like breath. As I slipped into it, however, I realized that I became transparent, invisible in certain areas. The only parts of me that could be seen were my hands, my feet, and my head.°
Before I could think about this further, Jesus said to me, “Anna, take these.”
“What are they?” I asked.

The Shoes
“Shoes of porpoise,” he said.’ I felt this was a play on the word “purpose,” but I did not know why.
I looked at them. They too were gossamer. They laced up the front like high-top work shoes that covered the ankle, but there were no soles in the shoes. “They have no soles,” I said.
Jesus smiled, “No, the Godhead is to be the expression of the soul.” (He seemed to enjoy His pun.) “These shoes keep your feet naked, touching the holy ground above, but leave you unjustified before mankind. You will be invisible to man but intimate with God. These cover the ankle and the heel also. Invisibility will work the cross in your life to the point that there will be no exposed heel nor any strength in the natural man displayed.”

I sat on the sea of glass to put them on. “These are the strangest shoes I have ever seen,” I said.
“Yes,” Jesus answered. “Few want to wear them. They are out of style.”
“Will they stay on?” I laughed.
“Yes, unless you yourself take them off. You can expose your walk before mankind, but there will be no life in it. The worm of death will crawl in and out of that exposure, Anna.”° Then He asked, “Can you walk in the fire of invisibility that mankind will not give you glory? Few alive today will wear these shoes, for they want their glory from mankind instead of God.”’
I finished lacing the shoes and stood. The tops of my feet were invisible. “Lord,” I asked seriously, “am I going to be able to do this?”
“No,” He smiled, “but I will, if you will let Me.”
I searched His face. “I believe,” I said softly. “Help my unbelief.”

A Burning Flame of Love
Suddenly, the throne became a towering column of fire, roaring louder than any forge on earth. I involuntarily stepped backward, for the fire seemed hotter than the furnaces that melt iron ore into molten magma.
“Anna:’ my Father said with a voice of thunder, “can you live within the fire?”
“Father,” I said hesitantly, “I cannot wish for painful experiences, but I can wish for You. Give me the grace to desire You more than life itself.”
Huge hands of fire reached out to me. “Come,” He said.
With a big gulp, I began to move forward slowly.
Jesus took my hand. “I will go with you,” He said gravely.
Suddenly, when Jesus took my hand, my yearning for my Father grew more intense. I began crying out in my desire for more of Him: “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!” As I began to call to Him, it was as though God opened Himself with a great, silent cry or hunger on His part to have me closer also. It was as though we were instantly sucked into Him.
We were standing amid coals that were white from the intense heat. I too began to heat up. The light was so bright that I could barely see Jesus for the glory within the blazing, white haze.