When halfway to the tree, the Lord materialized before my eyes. He stood before me beaten, bruised, His garments stuck to His wounds that were still open, gouges in His skull, swollen fingers, and swollen face.

I cried out in alarm. I did not know what to do or how to help. I was in shock. I sank to my knees, for all the strength left me. My hands covered my face.

“Anna,” He said, “this is your Husband, too. I still bear wounds from the faithless in the world.”

I could not look at Him.

“It is all right, Anna,” He said. “It is all right.” He took both of my hands into His and helped me to rise. “Look at Mc, Anna,” He continued. He had changed and now looked as I usually see Him. “I am both—what you see and what you saw. You need to know that you are marrying into both, one but both.”

“I do not know what to say,” I whispered.

“Say nothing,” He said. “What is there to say? But you need to know Me as both so that you do not wed blindly.”

“What does this mean?” I asked.

“Those who are one share all,” He said. “You wish to drink deeply, to share fully, to know even as you are known. This too is part of the knowing, the sharing, the being one. There are not many who turn from their own interests to seek the interests of God.’ But those who are called and chosen to live in God desire to share the sufferings of the Godhead.”

It was as though I was struck dumb.

He continued, “I realize that you are in shock. Therefore I will not ask you now if you are willing to share My sufferings, My sorrows.”

“Lord,” I said, trying to face the reality of what I had seen, “make me willing. I want to be one with You. I would deny You nothing, nor would I turn away from You because there are sorrows to bear—as long as we are together.”

“Do you mean this?” He asked.

“Yes, Lord,” I said.

“Behold,” He exclaimed, turning to face the tree of life and gesturing in its direction.

The Wheel of Fire

A huge, gold ring began to spin before us. It was as tall as the Ferris wheels that are part of the world’s fair exhibitions on Earth. It spun rapidly, bursting into flames.

I realized that the flames were fiery seraphim, hundreds, no thousands, of them. Their flames were as intense as blowtorches. But a figure similar to a man’s was at the core of each torch. Each seraph had six wings. With two they covered their eyes, with two they covered their feet, and with two they flew. A unique and pure music came from their midst.’

“Who will ride the wheel of fire?” the seraphim called. Their voices had a strange sound, as if their words were passing through some medium to which we are not accustomed on Earth.’

I realized I would need a greater spiritual maturity than I now possessed if I would desire to share the burdens of God. I did not know what this would mean. But evidently this fire was a first step if I wished such maturity I turned to Jesus, “I want to ride the wheel, my Lord.”

He smiled. “We will ride it together.”

I called to the seraphim, “We will ride.”

Jesus took my right hand, and we started forward. The closer we came to the wheel, the hotter grew the flames with which it burned. The sound of thousands of blowtorches was formidable. But through the flames I could hear an adoration of God that was of such purity that it startled my senses.

As we arrived at the fiery wheel, a seraph beckoned for us to enter the flames. The seraph spoke to me. “Few wish to ride the ring of fire. They want the ring of gold but not the ring of fire.”

I looked at Jesus. Then holding tightly to His hand, we both entered the fire. It was extremely hot among these flaming seraphim.

A seraph gestured for us to sit down. We did. The wheel began to turn. We went up as if the fiery ring was actually a huge Ferris wheel.