A Journey of Walking with the Lord
Walking with Godfrey
This isn’t a church.
This isn’t a movement.
It’s just a story. Mine.
Not told from a pulpit. Not written in a manual.
Just lived—on the golf course, in hospital rooms, through fire and fasting and quiet prayers in the dark.
If something deep inside you’s been whispering, “There’s more than this…”
Then maybe you’ll hear that whisper louder here.
When the Lord Woke Me Up
God didn’t thunder. He didn’t send lightning.
He just stood with me on the 18th green.
Golf’s always been a quiet place for me.
Simple. Peaceful. My little sanctuary.
But that morning in 2024, things were different.
My legs were weak. My balance off. My wife was fighting cancer.
And I didn’t know if I’d be coming back.
So I prayed:
“Lord, if this putt drops, I’ll walk away from golf for now.”
Forty feet. It dropped.
I walked away.
Later I came back for one more round, just to say goodbye.
Another prayer. Another clean shot.
It wasn’t about golf. It was about listening.
The truth is, the shift had started long before that.
Through fasting. Prayer. Journaling.
One day during a fast, I wrote, “I want to turn my life over to Him.”
I didn’t know what that meant. But He did.
Not long after, I heard the phrase—not out loud, but deep inside:
“Be believing.”
That changed me.
Another came:
“Trust in the Lord.”
These weren’t just words. They were anchors.
They pulled me forward.
I didn’t declare anything big. I didn’t start a group.
I just surrendered.
That’s when the walk began.
That’s when I started walking… with Godfrey. “Walking with Godfrey” isn’t a manual or a manifesto—it’s a story. Raw, honest, and full of sacred moments that didn’t happen in chapels but on golf courses, in hospital beds, and in whispered prayers. It’s not about climbing church ladders, but about laying them down and walking side by side with the Lord. If you’ve ever felt something stirring in your soul—something the Sunday lessons didn’t quite touch—this book might name it for you. It’s not rebellion. It’s restoration. It’s not polished. But it’s real.
FOREWORD with Godfrey
Walking
This isn’t a doctrine. It’s a story.
Not polished. Not perfect. But real.
It started on a golf course and took me through some heavy fires—health issues, hard questions, and moments that shook everything I thought I knew. Along the way, I fasted, I prayed, I journaled. I got answers. And I found out something I didn’t expect:
The Lord still talks.
Not just to prophets in suits or people in pulpits. But to people like you and me—ordinary folks who are willing to listen. Folks who are tired of the show and just want what’s real.
That’s what this book is about. It’s my walk. My wrestle. My wake-up call.
I’m not here to start a church. I’m not asking anyone to follow me. But I’ve seen things, heard things, and felt things can’t ignore—and maybe you have too.
I
If you’ve started to feel like something’s off… If you’ve felt the shift, but haven’t had the words for it… If the still, small voice has been tugging at you in quiet moments…
This book is for you.
I’m not calling for rebellion. I’m witnessing restoration.
So if you’re done waiting for someone else to give you permission, and you’re ready to walk with God yourself—let’s go. Let’s walk.
Page 1 Walking with Godfrey
Table of Contents
Foreword This Isn’t a Doctrine. It’s a Story.
PART I: The Awakening
1. The Awakening Begins
2. Sanctified by Fire
3. Seeing with Spiritual Eyes
4. The Voice Within
5. The Scriptures Come Alive
6. A New Understanding of Priesthood
7. Covenant and Commitment
8. The Holy Ghost as Transformation
9. Love, the True Law
10. The Stripping Away
11. The Sacred Name
12. The Secret Place
13. The Gathering Wind
PART II: The Restoration Reclaimed
14. The Law Written on the Heart
15. A Name and a Promise
16. By Every Fiber
17. A Walk, Not a Hierarchy
Page 2 18. Daughters and Sons
19. A Burning in the Bones
20. The Circle of Zion
21. The Invisible Church
PART III: Sanctified for Zion
22. The Baptism of Fire
23. Zion and the Remnant
24. False Restoration vs True Restoration
25. The Second Comforter
26. Walking Through the Veil
27. The Divine Family
28. Living Translation
29. The Real Zion Pattern
30. The Rise of the Mothers
31. The Table, Not the Tower
32. When the Fire Falls
33. The Return of the Peacemaker
Epilogue Walking On
Appendix A Appendix B • Scriptural & Source Endnotes by Chapter
Page 3 CHAPTER 1: The Awakening Begins
When God wakes you up, He doesn’t always shout. Sometimes it starts in the middle of something ordinary.
For me, that happened out on a golf course.
I’d been playing golf for years. Not to show off. Not to escape. It just brought me peace. Something about the sky overhead, the rhythm of the swing, the quiet—it always helped me settle down. I used to joke about having "Bob Bounce" luck, because my shots always seemed to land just right. But deep down, I knew it wasn’t luck. It was grace.
One cold morning at the end of 2024, I stood on the 18th green. My legs were starting to go. Balance wasn’t what it used to be. My wife was battling cancer. I didn’t know if I’d be coming back. I whispered a prayer: “Lord, if this putt drops, I’ll walk away from this for now.”
Forty feet out—and it went in.
I kept my promise.
Not long after, I came back for one more round. Just to say goodbye. And again, on the last hole, I said, “Lord, if this is really the end, let me finish strong.” I hit a clean drive, dropped the approach two inches from the hole, and birdied the last. I smiled all the way home.
That wasn’t about golf. It was about listening.
Because the Lord doesn’t only speak through sermons or scripture. Sometimes He talks to us in the places we already love—places we don’t expect.
But truth be told, that wasn’t the real beginning. The shift had started before that.
I had been fasting. Praying. Journaling. Writing things down that felt bigger than me. One day, during a fast, I wrote, “I want to turn my life over to Him!” I didn’t know what that would mean —but I meant it.
I had a dream, early on. Hiroko and I were walking together in a garden. It felt sacred. It stayed with me.
Then, one day in prayer, I heard something clear—not with my ears, but inside:
“Be believing.”
That was the first phrase I ever knew for sure came from Him. It was simple. Quiet. But it changed everything. Because from that moment on, I started letting myself believe. No more brushing things off. No more second-guessing the Spirit. Just believing.
Page 4 Then another word came: “Trust in the Lord.”
That one stayed with me for days. Not a soft suggestion. A command. A promise.
This first chapter isn’t about convincing anyone. It’s about marking the moment I chose to walk forward—shaky legs, unsure steps, but open.
I didn’t start with some big declaration. I started by surrendering.
That’s when I started walking with Godfrey.
Page 5 CHAPTER 2: Sanctified by Fire
Getting cleaned up by the Lord isn’t always gentle. Sometimes it comes through pain. Real pain. The kind that gets down into your bones and won’t let go.
I didn’t ask for it. But I sure asked for truth.
Turns out, truth doesn’t always come wrapped in peace and comfort. Sometimes, it comes through surgery, struggle, and long nights wondering what’s happening to your body—and your soul.
That’s where I found myself. Spinal stenosis. Weak legs. Loss of balance. One thing after another. I wasn’t sure if I’d walk normally again. But in the middle of it all, the Lord was saying something. Not loud. But clear.
“You are mine. I will teach you.”
That’s what I wrote in my journal one day. And I knew it was Him.
I also wrote this: “The Lord is cleansing me with fire. I am being reborn in my weakness.”
That wasn’t just poetic. That was what it felt like.
Old ideas were starting to fall off me. I realized a lot of my faith had been built on habit. On doing what I was told. On tradition. But not necessarily on relationship. Not on hearing Him for myself.
I started going back to old dreams I’d had—visions I had forgotten in the busyness of life. I saw that garden again. I saw His hands.
Sometimes the Lord doesn’t heal the body right away. Sometimes He lets the pain linger because there’s something deeper He wants to heal. That was me.
And little by little, through the fire, I started to understand what “sanctified” really means. It’s not just being made clean. It’s being made new. Inside out. Soul-deep.
It wasn’t fast. It wasn’t easy. But I kept walking—wobbly, weary, but toward Him.
That fire? It was holy. And I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
Page 6 CHAPTER 3: Seeing with Spiritual Eyes
There’s a difference between seeing and really seeing.
I’d read the scriptures for years, but something shifted. I started seeing things differently. People. Truth. Even teachings I used to just accept without thinking—I started feeling a check in my spirit.
One day, I wrote in my journal: “The Lord told me, ‘See with the eye of the Spirit.’”
That wasn’t just a nice thought. It was a personal invitation. A door opening.
After that, I started to feel things I couldn’t explain. I could sense when something felt true. Or when it didn’t. I could pick up on whether someone’s words were full of light—or just full of themselves. And that feeling never steered me wrong.
It wasn’t me being critical. It was the Lord training my eyes.
That’s when I realized something big: a lot of what we call religion is just people building systems to try and contain God. But God doesn’t fit in those boxes. And He never asked to be put in one.
The gospel of Christ is about relationship. About being taught directly by the Spirit. That’s what the scriptures really say when you read them with fresh eyes.
The Book of Mormon backs it up. So do the Nemenhah Records. They talk about seeing with spiritual eyes, about people hearing the Lord for themselves. Not through a structure. Through the Spirit.
And the Lord kept whispering:
“My Spirit will teach you all things.”
And it did. And it still does.
Learning to see like that—it changes everything.
Page 7 CHAPTER 4: The Voice Within
It took me a while to realize that the Lord’s voice doesn’t always sound like a booming message from heaven. Most of the time, it comes like a whisper—calm, steady, and easy to miss if you're too busy.
For me, it would happen in prayer, or while journaling, or even out on a quiet walk. Thoughts would rise up in me—clear thoughts I didn’t come up with. Truths that hit deeper than anything I could’ve reasoned out.
And over and over, the Lord kept saying:
"Be believing."
I didn’t always know what to do with that. At first, I questioned it. Was I imagining things? Was it just my own brain trying to comfort me? But the more I leaned in, the more it happened. And every time I listened, it brought peace—not confusion. Clarity, not chaos.
That’s how I knew it was Him.
Scriptures started to feel different too. I wasn’t just reading words. I was being taught. The same Spirit I’d felt as a young man reading the Book of Mormon came rushing back. And I remembered that feeling: the one that says, “This is real.”
And then came more whisperings:
“Heavenly Mother is part of Elohim, the helpmeet to the Father.”
“When you receive the Gift of the Holy Ghost, you’re quickened by the Spirit and made holy by the blood of the Lamb.”
“You are the temple.”
These weren’t things I picked up from a manual. They weren’t bullet points in a class. They were truth, spoken directly to my spirit.
And always, always backed with the same phrase:
“Trust in the Lord.”
The more I trusted, the more courage I found. I even started sharing what I was receiving with a few trusted friends—and to my surprise, they didn’t think I was crazy. Some had experienced the same things. Others confirmed it through their own prayers.
That’s when it hit me: the Lord never stopped speaking. We just weren’t taught how to hear Him. But once you start listening with your whole soul… you start to hear Him everywhere.
Page 8 CHAPTER 5: The Scriptures Come Alive
Once the Spirit started opening my eyes, scripture wasn’t the same anymore.
I’d read the Book of Mormon plenty of times over the years. But now—it lit up. Passages I used to skim jumped off the page. Verses I’d memorized hit deeper. Like they were written just for me, in this exact season.
The Spirit started guiding my reading. Sometimes I’d wake up in the night with a verse in my head. Other times, I’d just feel prompted to open the book, and boom—right there was the message I needed.
It wasn’t about checking a box. It wasn’t about following a lesson plan. It was personal. Alive. The Lord Himself was using those pages to teach me.
I started noticing a pattern: the real gospel, the raw one—the one about relationship, about being changed from the inside out—was right there in the scriptures. Especially the Book of Mormon. It didn’t prop up hierarchy. It didn’t preach control. It pointed people straight to Christ.
And then I found the Nemenhah Records. At first, I didn’t know what to think. But the more I read, the more the same Spirit I’d felt in the Book of Mormon confirmed it. These folks wrote about the same kinds of things—spiritual eyes, divine visits, the Peacemaker walking with them in the everyday places.
Not just in temples. Not behind pulpits. In homes. In caves. In quiet hearts.
That hit me.
And I started keeping track—making notes, journaling the connections. Both books pointed the same direction. And both said some things that didn’t match what the modern Church was teaching.
That didn’t scare me. It made me hungry. Because I wasn’t looking to fight. I was looking to be true.
And every time I came with that kind of heart—humble, honest, ready to hear—the Lord met me in those pages.
The scriptures came alive. And so did I.
Page 9 CHAPTER 6: A New Understanding of Priesthood
I used to think I understood priesthood.
Growing up, it was always explained as a man’s thing. Structured. Titled. Passed down like some kind of spiritual license. You get ordained, you move up, you get more authority. That’s just how it was.
But the more I walked with the Lord, the more He started peeling that view apart.
He showed me something I hadn’t seen before—especially through the Nemenhah Records. In their words, women already had priesthood. It wasn’t something they had to earn or wait for. It was part of who they were as daughters of God. Men, on the other hand, had to prove they were ready. They had to live worthy of it.
That flipped everything I thought I knew.
At first, I wrestled with it. Could that really be true? But then the Spirit hit me with this:
“Power in the priesthood comes through purity, not position.”
And I knew it was right. I’d felt that same power in humble women with no titles. I’d seen it in quiet servants who didn’t stand at pulpits. I’d felt it in my own wife.
The real power wasn’t about offices. It was about holiness.
I started repenting. Not just of sins—but of assumptions. Of all the things I had accepted without asking God about it first.
He started clearing my vision. And once I saw it, I couldn’t unsee it.
God doesn’t give His power to titles. He gives it to hearts that are clean and willing to serve. And that changes everything.
Page 10 CHAPTER 7: Covenant and Commitment
The Lord doesn’t twist your arm. He invites. But once He calls you, He expects something back. That something isn’t perfection. It’s commitment.
Not the kind where you sign up for a class or check a few boxes on a form. I’m talking about real, everyday surrender—the kind that costs you something.
When I started walking deeper with Him, I tried to keep it quiet. Safe. But the Lord kept nudging me, “Don’t just believe privately—live it publicly.”
And that meant making a covenant. Not in a church building. Not in front of a crowd. Just me and Him.
I wrote it down in my journal:
“I renew my covenant today to follow the Savior with all my strength, to listen to His voice, and to walk where He leads—even if it means walking alone.”
And He took me up on it.
That kind of commitment has changed everything. It’s cost me some things—comfort, old friendships, the feeling of being understood. But what I’ve received in return is far greater.
I’ve been given strength to discern truth from error. A deeper ability to love. And peace I couldn’t manufacture on my own.
When you walk in covenant with the Lord, He shows up. He walks with you. And you start to feel a quiet kind of power—not to control others, but to keep standing, even when you’re the only one.
Page 11 CHAPTER 8: The Holy Ghost as Transformation
Most folks talk about the Holy Ghost like it’s just a still, small voice. And sure, sometimes it is. But I came to learn—it’s way more than that.
The Gift of the Holy Ghost isn’t just comfort. It’s transformation. When He really moves in, you change. Your thoughts, your desires, your whole direction—it all starts shifting.
I wrote something bold in my journal once: “We are the Holy Ghost.”
That might sound strange. But here’s what I meant: when the Spirit fills us, and sanctifies us, and we let go of everything else, He starts living through us. We don’t just receive revelation—we become walking proof that God is real.
It’s not some third person out there whispering to you. It’s the living fire of God working inside you.
I used to think holiness was for monks or prophets. But the Lord showed me, through His Spirit, that holiness is for anyone who’s willing to surrender and be changed.
And that change? It’s not about becoming perfect. It’s about becoming alive.
Alive in Him.
Quickened. Set apart. Made holy—not by our efforts, but by His Spirit burning in our bones. When that happened to me, I stopped thinking of the Holy Ghost as something extra.
I started seeing Him as the very breath of the walk.
Page 12 CHAPTER 9: Love, the True Law
If there’s one law that sums up everything the Lord’s trying to teach us, it’s this: love.
Not checklist religion. Not loyalty to institutions. Just real, honest-to-God love.
I saw it again and again in scripture. The Book of Mormon said it straight: “If ye have not charity, ye are nothing.” That hit me hard.
Love isn’t fluff. It’s power. It’s clarity. It’s the lens that makes everything else make sense. There were moments—deep, quiet ones—where I felt that love so strong it dropped me to my knees. Not because I deserved it. But because He loved me anyway. And in those moments, I saw people differently.
Not as projects. Not as enemies. Not as people to fix or correct. Just as children of God, same as me.
And I started realizing: that’s what marks a true disciple. Not head knowledge. Not position. But love.
The kind that lifts. The kind that forgives. The kind that would lay everything down for someone else.
I’m still learning to live that way. But now I know—that’s the law He’s writing on my heart. And it’s the one I want to live by till my last breath.
Page 13 CHAPTER 10: The Stripping Away
There came a point in my walk when it felt like everything was being taken from me.
Old beliefs. Comfort zones. Even relationships. It wasn’t punishment—it was pruning.
When the Lord wants to give you the real thing, He usually starts by stripping away the false. And that’s what He did with me.
I lost some things I thought I needed. Familiar routines. Church callings. Social approval. But what I gained was far better:
Him.
I wrote this in my journal one night after a tough stretch: “The Lord will strip you, but not to harm you—to heal you.”
That line has proven true again and again. Some of the hardest seasons were really invitations. Invitations to go deeper. To trust more. To let go of the crutches and lean fully on Him.
And it wasn’t easy. Some nights, I cried. Some mornings, I felt totally alone. But in that emptiness, something holy started to grow.
The noise got quieter. His voice got clearer.
The stripping away wasn’t the end.
It was the beginning of walking with nothing but Him—and finding that was more than enough.
Page 14 CHAPTER 11: The Sacred Name
Names carry weight. Not just what people call you—but what God calls you.
I wasn’t asking for a new name. But in one of the quietest, most sacred moments of prayer, I heard it:
“Godfrey.”
It landed in my spirit like a stone dropped in still water. No thunder. No spotlight. Just peaceand certainty.
It wasn’t just a name. It was an identity. A reminder. A covenant.
And with it came a rhythm—a kind of holy mantra I started repeating in prayer, especially when I felt weak or scattered:
Be Holy Godfrey. Be Healed Godfrey. Be Whole Godfrey.
Those words became anchors. On rough days, they reminded me who I really was. Not who the world saw. Not who religion expected. But who the Lord named.
He didn’t give me that name to puff me up. He gave it to steady me.
To remind me that I’m His. That I have a purpose. That holiness, healing, and wholeness aren’t things I have to chase—they’re things I’ve been called into.
The name Godfrey changed how I prayed. How I walked. How I listened.
And it still does.
Page 15 CHAPTER 12: The Secret Place
There’s a place you go that nobody else can take you to.
It’s quiet. It’s deep. And it’s where the Lord meets you face to face—spirit to spirit.
I call it the secret place.
I didn’t find it in a temple or a church. I found it in fasting. In prayer. In silence. In those raw, empty moments when everything else fades, and all that’s left is Him.
The more I went there, the more it changed me. Not with lightning bolts or dramatic visions. But with stillness. Clarity. Healing.
The Lord once told me: “Dwell in Me, and I will dwell in you.”
That invitation became everything. I kept going back—not out of duty, but because I craved it. That place where there’s no noise, no fear, no pretending. Just truth. Just peace.
Every chapter of this book was born in that secret place. Every insight, every whisper, every name.
And even now, when things get loud or life gets heavy, that’s where I go. Back to the place that reminds me who I am—and Whose I am.
You don’t need a title to get there. You don’t need to qualify.
You just need to show up, still your soul, and listen.
He’s already waiting.
Page 16 CHAPTER 13: The Gathering Wind
As I kept walking with the Lord, I started to notice something stirring—not just in me, but in others too.
People were waking up. Some were leaving churches. Some were staying but questioning quietly. But they were all being drawn by the same Spirit. The same fire. The same whisper: "Come unto Me."
It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t flashy. But it was real.
And it wasn’t about joining a new group or starting a movement. It was about holiness. About coming out of confusion and walking into something true.
In the Nemenhah Records I read, “The people began to gather—not in temples made with hands, but in sanctuaries of the heart, and the Lord did come among them.”
That line hit me like a bell. Because I’d already felt it. In my journal. On the golf course. In the stillness of a fast. He was already among us.
I didn’t feel called to lead anything. I just felt called to be part of it.
This wasn’t about personality. It was about purity. About people being drawn to the Lord—not to a prophet or a pulpit, but to Christ Himself.
I once wrote in my journal: “Every fiber in my body knew the Book of Mormon was true. That same fire is how I now know what’s real.”
That fire hasn’t let up. It helps me see through counterfeits. It helps me know who’s speaking by the Spirit and who’s just playing church.
I believe we’re being gathered—not by programs or pressure, but by the fire of the Holy Ghost. And I’m here for it.
Let the wind blow. Let the gathering begin.
Page 17 CHAPTER 14: The Law Written on the Heart
God doesn’t just hand out commandments like a checklist anymore. He writes them straight into your soul.
This part of my journey wasn’t about learning more rules—it was about letting the Spirit carve truth into me so deeply, I didn’t need reminders. I just wanted to live right. I didn’t need a signpost—I had a compass inside.
Jeremiah said it: “I will write My law in their hearts.” And that’s exactly what it felt like.
When I was close to the Lord, the Spirit guided me better than any manual or mentor. I didn’t need to be micromanaged. The whisper inside would gently correct me, lift me, and sometimes stop me in my tracks. And every time I obeyed that inner nudge, I grew.
I asked the Lord once in prayer, “What do I do next?” The answer came clear: “Walk in the light you’ve already been given.”
That changed everything. I didn’t need a new command. I needed to keep moving with what He’d already shown me.
His law became less of a burden and more of a rhythm. Like a song I couldn’t un-hear. A truth that echoed deep inside.
And slowly, I realized: people who walk with God don’t follow Him because they have to. They follow Him because they love Him.
That’s what it means to have the law written on your heart.
Page 18 CHAPTER 15: A Name and a Promise
Some names are just labels. Others carry weight. Calling. Identity.
When the Lord gave me the name “Godfrey,” it wasn’t just something new to go by. It was a promise. A calling. A reminder of who I was and who I was becoming.
And along with that name came a kind of rhythm—a prayer, a declaration:
Be Holy Godfrey. Be Healed Godfrey. Be Whole Godfrey.
Each phrase hit a different part of me—my heart, my body, my soul. They weren’t just motivational words. They were assignments. Anchors.
When I felt tempted to drift, the Lord would whisper, “Be Holy Godfrey.” When I was worn out and hurting, I’d hear, “Be Healed Godfrey.” And in the quiet ache for peace—“Be Whole Godfrey.”
The name didn’t come from a pulpit. It didn’t come from a person. It came in the stillness of the Spirit. And it marked the start of something new.
A covenant—not on stone, not in a ceremony, but deep down in the soul.
The name Godfrey was like a key. A signpost. A mantle.
It told me, “You’re not who you used to be. And you’re not done yet.”
Page 19 CHAPTER 16: By Every Fiber
There are moments when the Spirit doesn’t just whisper—it floods every part of you.
That’s what happened to me one quiet morning. I picked up the Book of Mormon, like I’d done a hundred times before. But this time, the second I started reading, something hit me so strong I could hardly breathe.
It wasn’t emotion. It wasn’t just clarity. It was power—from head to toe.
And all I could write afterward was: “Every fiber in my body told me this was true.”
That one experience has been my anchor for over 50 years. It’s what I come back to every time I’m unsure, every time I hear a new teaching or feel something off. I hold it up to that witness and ask:
Does it carry that same Spirit? That same weight? That same peace?
Because once you’ve felt truth like that, you can’t fake it. You can’t be talked out of it. And you definitely can’t replace it with hype, pressure, or persuasion.
The Nemenhah Records talk about this too. They say truth rings inside the soul—and you’ll know it by its light.
This kind of discernment isn’t just for prophets. It’s for anyone willing to listen.
And for me, it all started with one moment that changed everything:
The book was true. The Spirit was real. And the Lord was near.
Page 20 CHAPTER 17: A Walk, Not a Hierarchy
One of the biggest shifts in my faith came when I realized this walk with God wasn’t about climbing a ladder.
It wasn’t about titles, rank, or who’s in charge.
It was about relationship. A walk. Side by side with Him.
For most of my life, I tried to find my place in the system. Who had the keys? Who was at the top? Who should I follow?
But the closer I got to the Lord, the more He stripped that thinking out of me.
He showed me something better: a path, not a pyramid. And He walks it with us, not above us. In the Nemenhah Records, I read how the Peacemaker walked among the people like a brother. And the women weren’t treated like they had to prove something—they already carried the priesthood. It was the men who had to live worthy of it.
That flipped a switch in me.
I began to see that the real power of God isn’t in hierarchy. It’s in holiness. In humility. In walking with Him, not climbing toward Him.
So I made a promise:
“I don’t want to lead. I want to walk among. I won’t build another tower. I’ll build Zion—on the inside.”
And since then, I’ve felt more peace, more clarity, and more power than ever before.
Because I laid down the ladder… and picked up the cross.
Page 21 CHAPTER 18: Daughters and Sons
One of the truths that hit me hardest—and changed me most—was what the Lord taught me about women.
It wasn’t something I went looking for. But as I read the Nemenhah Records and listened to the Spirit, it became clear:
Women weren’t waiting to be given power. They already had it.
“The woman already has the priesthood conferred upon her.” That line stunned me.
It wasn’t about women taking over or flipping the script. It was about balance. Wholeness. The kind of harmony only God can design.
And it made me look again at the Heavenly Mother. Not just a vague figure in the backgroundbut the other face of Elohim. The Helpmeet to the Father. Fully divine. Fully involved.
When I accepted that truth, everything shifted. The way I prayed changed. The way I saw my wife changed. The way I read scripture changed.
I started to understand that this isn’t a men-led gathering. Zion isn’t going to rise on the backs of brothers alone. It’s going to take daughters and sons—together.
And once I saw it, I couldn’t unsee it.
I wrote in my journal: “Let not the daughters of Zion be withheld. Let them rise. The Lord already placed His power within them.”
And I began to see that fire in the women around me—in my wife, in my daughters, in sisters of the faith who had gifts to share but nowhere to offer them.
This isn’t about roles.
It’s about restoration.
Side by side. Equal. Consecrated.
That’s the pattern of Zion.
And I believe that’s what we’re stepping into.
Page 22 CHAPTER 19: A Burning in the Bones
Some truths won’t stay quiet.
You try to keep them to yourself, try to stay polite or patient—but eventually, they burn their way out.
That’s how Zion felt in me. Not just a doctrine. Not just an idea. A living fire.
Jeremiah said it perfectly: “His word was in mine heart as a burning fire shut up in my bones.” I get that now.
There were times I wanted to hold back. To play it safe. To wait till the timing was better.
But the Spirit said otherwise:
“Speak. Declare. You weren’t given these truths to bury them.”
So I did. Not with fanfare. Not with arguments. But with testimony. Just sharing what the Lord had shown me—through scripture, through fasting, through the Spirit.
And what amazed me was this: the more I spoke, the more others said, “I’ve felt the same thing.” This isn’t just my fire. It’s a shared one. It’s the same light coming alive in hearts all over.
The records—the Book of Mormon, the Nemenhah, my own journals—they all started singing the same song. A song of preparation. Of awakening. Of gathering.
This isn’t about joining a group. It’s about becoming part of a kingdom.
The kingdom of God isn’t built with bricks and programs. It’s built with burning hearts.
And I know this much:
That fire’s still in me.
And it’s lighting the way.
Page 23 CHAPTER 20: The Circle of Zion
Zion’s not a tower you climb. It’s a circle you step into.
It’s not about one person on a stage. It’s about everyone sitting together—equal, heard, and holy. Every time I’ve felt the Spirit move the strongest, it wasn’t in top-down meetings or high-pressure settings. It was in simple, sacred gatherings. Small. Honest. Full of light.
The Nemenhah Records describe sacred councils where men and women, young and old, speak by the Spirit. They sit in circles, not rows. No one’s higher. No one’s left out.
And I’ve seen it in dreams. One time, I saw myself sitting in a grove, surrounded by others. We weren’t being preached at—we were being known. The Lord walked among us, looking each person in the eye, smiling. Then He said:
“Now you are one. And now, I can dwell among you.”
That dream hasn’t left me.
Because that’s what Zion is.
It’s not built by hierarchy. It’s not built by ego. It’s built by love. Real love. Love that listens. Love that unites. Love that kneels together in a circle and waits for the Lord to speak.
Zion isn’t a fantasy. It’s a pattern. And it starts wherever hearts come together and make space for Him.
Not above each other.
Beside each other.
That’s where He dwells.
Page 24 CHAPTER 21: The Invisible Church
I used to wonder where I fit.
I wasn’t in a church calling anymore. I wasn’t on a roster. I didn’t belong to a ministry. But somehow, I’d never felt more connected to the Lord—or to others walking this path.
That’s when I heard Him say: “My church is not in the buildings. It is in the hearts.”
That line stayed with me. Because suddenly it all made sense. The invisible church is real. It’s not found in programs or signs out front. It’s found in the hearts of those who listen for His voice and follow it.
I’ve felt it in prayer circles, in quiet text messages, in shared journals, even in the woods under open sky. You can feel it when two or three gather in His name—because He’s right there in the middle.
The Nemenhah talk about this too. Their people didn’t build up priestcraft. They built lives around covenant, around community, around the presence of God.
They didn’t need a crowd to feel power. Just consecrated hearts.
We’re living in that same time again. The remnant is rising. And we don’t all look alike, think alike, or meet in the same place.
But we’re hearing the same Voice.
And that’s what makes us one.
The invisible church may not be recognized by the world—but the Lord knows every member by name.
And I’m grateful to walk with them.
Page 25 CHAPTER 22: The Baptism of Fire
You can get dunked in water a dozen times and still not know God.
That’s something I had to learn the long way. For most of my life, I figured baptism was a oneand-done thing. You go under, you come up, you’re clean. But the more I walked with the Lord, the more He showed me: the real baptism—the one that changes everything—is the baptism of fire.
It doesn’t come from a man. It doesn’t come from a meeting. It comes from heaven. And when it hits, you know it.
The Book of Mormon talks about it all the time. Alma said, “Have ye spiritually been born of God? Have ye received His image in your countenances?” (Alma 5). That hit me. Because I knew I’d been baptized years ago—but had I really been changed?
Then I read this: “He that is baptized with fire and the Holy Ghost doth receive it of me… and whoso having it is not unto condemnation” (3 Nephi 9:20). That wasn’t just poetry. That was a promise.
One night, I wrote in my journal:
“I have felt the fire. Not a blaze that burns the body, but a warmth that burns away everything false.”
That’s what the real baptism does. It strips you down. Burns off the old man. Cleanses not just the hands, but the heart.
Joseph Smith taught it too. In his early sermons—before all the layers and politics—he said the baptism of fire was the real sign of acceptance. Not a temple recommend. Not a leadership role. But fire.
Even the Lectures on Faith say the same: “It is by this faith that the Father works, and by which the saints are sanctified.”It’s not about joining. It’s about becoming.
And in the Nemenhah Records, I found something beautiful. They wrote about people who would fast, pray, and go out alone into nature—not to find doctrine, but to be filled. And when they were ready, the Peacemaker would visit. Not always with visions—but with power. Fire. Holiness.
That resonated with me more than anything I’d ever read in a manual.
I used to think the baptism of fire was rare—maybe just for prophets. But now I know: it’s available to anyone who will lay it all down and ask with real intent.
It’s not always dramatic. Sometimes it comes like a quiet wave—one that leaves you weeping, not out of pain, but out of joy. Because you know, in that moment, you’ve been changed.
Page 26 And from that moment on, the walk gets real.
You stop trying to perform for God. You just walk with Him.
Page 27 CHAPTER 23: Zion and the Remnant
The Lord doesn’t do mass marketing. He works through remnants.
That word kept showing up—first in the Book of Mormon, then in my journal, then again in the Nemenhah: remnant. A small group. A preserved people. Not the loudest, not the biggest—but the ones who still had ears to hear.
One morning, I read 1 Nephi 13:35:
“I will manifest myself unto thy seed, that they shall write many things which I shall minister unto them… and these things shall be hid up, to come forth unto the remnant of the house of Israel.”
That’s us. That’s now.
I used to think Zion was going to be built by the church. With programs, buildings, and big announcements. But the more I prayed, the more the Lord showed me: Zion isn’t built from the top down. It rises from the inside out.
It’s not a headline. It’s a harvest.
The Nemenhah talked about it plainly. They said the Lord would call the scattered ones—those who had been cast out, passed over, or told they didn’t belong. People from every land. Women and men, young and old. And they’d be gathered—not into a structure, but into His presence. They called them the Pure Ones.
I once wrote in my journal:
“Zion won’t come from Salt Lake or Missouri. It’ll come from sanctified hearts who have no reputation—only consecration.”
And I believe that now more than ever.
This isn’t about geography. It’s about condition. The condition of the heart.
Joseph Smith saw this too. He said Zion would be “the pure in heart” (D&C 97:21). Not the pure in policy. Not the pure in pedigree. Just people willing to be sanctified—through fire, through fasting, through faith that walks.
And they’re rising.
I’ve seen them. I’ve met them. Some still go to church, quietly following the Spirit. Others have stepped away from the walls entirely. But all of them are hearing the same whisper:
“Come unto Me. Come out of Babylon. Be My people.”
Page 28 It’s not rebellion. It’s restoration.
The Book of Mormon, the Bible, the Lectures on Faith, the Nemenhah—they all tell the same story: a remnant will rise. Not proud. Not loud. But purified.
And when they do, Zion won’t need an announcement.
It’ll be felt in the spirit. Known by the fire. And gathered by the hand of God Himself.
Page 29 CHAPTER 24: False Restoration vs True Restoration
I used to think the restoration was a package deal.
One prophet. One church. One path. From Joseph to Brigham and all the way down the line.
But the more I walked with the Lord—the more I read, fasted, prayed, and let the Spirit teach me —the more I realized: something shifted after Joseph died. And it wasn’t just leadership. It was the message itself.
This realization didn’t come from anger. It came from the Spirit.
I remember the exact phrase that came to me:
“Joseph restored the foundation. Others built on it with wood, hay, and stubble.”
That shook me.
Because for most of my life, I assumed the house was still sound. But when I started comparing Joseph’s actual words—his revelations, his translation of the Bible, the Lectures on Faith, the early temple teachings—against what came later, I couldn’t ignore the cracks.
Joseph said the Godhead was two beings: the Father and the Son. Later, it was changed to three. Joseph preached against polygamy—called it an abomination. Brigham called it celestial law. Joseph emphasized personal revelation and the Second Comforter. After him, that talk all but vanished.
And Zion? Joseph said it would be built by the pure in heart. But after him, it became a system of hierarchy and headquarters.
I asked the Lord in prayer, “Is this a falling away?” And He answered gently: “The restoration is not finished. It was paused. It was hijacked. But I will complete it.”
That gave me peace.
Because I wasn’t looking to tear down what was true. I just wanted to separate the gold from the brass.
The Nemenhah Records confirmed it. They prophesied that after the Peacemaker left, imposters would rise. Men would claim the mantle but preach their own gain. And the humble would be scattered—waiting for the real voice to rise again.
That’s what’s happening now.
Page 30 The restoration isn’t over. It’s waking back up. In quiet places. In personal covenants. In dreams, visions, and Spirit-led study. Not in committees. Not in corporate manuals.
And Joseph?
He was the real deal. He wasn’t perfect. But he pointed to Christ. He taught people to receive the Holy Ghost—not as a metaphor, but as a literal transformation. And that’s still the pattern.
I once wrote in my journal:
“Joseph was the trumpet. But the music is still playing—and the Lord is calling new players.” I’m not rejecting the restoration.
I’m walking deeper into it.
The real restoration doesn’t ask you to follow men. It asks you to follow the Spirit.
And that’s the only path I trust now.
Page 31 CHAPTER 25: The Second Comforter
There’s a difference between knowing about Jesus and knowing Him.
I didn’t always get that. For years, I thought having a testimony meant going to church, reading the scriptures, praying. And those are good things. But the Lord wanted more than habits. He wanted heart. He wanted face-to-face.
That’s where the Second Comforter comes in.
Joseph Smith talked about it plainly. It’s in the Lectures on Faith, in his sermons, even in the early Doctrine and Covenants. Jesus Himself promised it in John 14:
“I will love him, and will manifest myself to him.”
That’s not symbolic. That’s literal.
The Holy Ghost prepares you. The Second Comforter confirms you.
I didn’t hear that in Sunday School. I had to hear it from the Spirit.
It started with a hunger. A longing in my gut that said: “I love You, Lord… but I want to see You.”
And one day, during a fast, I wrote in my journal:
“I don’t want a secondhand faith anymore. I want the Living Christ.”
That prayer changed me.
Because once you ask with real intent, the Lord begins to shape you for the promise. Not just to visit Him—but to be made into someone who can stand in His presence.
The Book of Mormon says it too. Moroni wrote:
“And when he shall appear we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is; that we may have this hope, that we may be purified even as he is pure.” (Moroni 7:48) Seeing Him isn’t for the proud. It’s for the purified.
It doesn’t start with visions. It starts with surrender. With quiet obedience. With walking through fire until there’s nothing left in you but truth.
One night, I felt it so clear:
“You will see Me when you stop chasing signs and start becoming sanctified.”
And that’s what I’ve been walking toward.
Page 32 The Nemenhah Records echo it again and again. The Peacemaker comes to those who have made a place for Him. He walks in gardens. He visits caves. He speaks in dreams. And sometimes… He comes in person.
Not to make a show. But to seal a covenant.
I believe He still does.
I haven’t seen Him with these eyes yet. But I’ve felt His nearness. In fasting. In prayer. In dreams so sacred I hesitate to share them. And I know He’s preparing me for more.
I wrote this line one morning:
“The Holy Ghost made me clean. But the Lord Himself will make me whole.”
That’s what the Second Comforter means to me.
It’s not a fantasy. It’s the endgame of faith.
Not just knowing that He lives…
But walking with Him when He comes.
Page 33 CHAPTER 26: Walking Through the Veil
The veil isn’t where God keeps His distance.
It’s where He waits.
I used to think of the veil as a wall—something you couldn’t pass until you died. But now I know better. The veil is a threshold. And the Lord invites His people to cross it while still in the flesh.
If you’re willing.
If you’re clean.
If you’re ready.
The Book of Mormon says it straight: “And he that will not harden his heart, to him is given the greater portion of the word… even until it is given unto him to know the mysteries of God in full” (Alma 12:10). That’s not someday after death. That’s here. Now.
And Joseph taught the same. In the Lectures on Faith, he said we’re to “lay hold of eternal life” and “see God face to face.” That’s not just poetic language. That’s the pattern.
Enoch walked with God. Moses saw His face. Nephi heard His voice directly. And Joseph? He passed through the veil more than once—because he expected to.
He said, “If you do not know God, you have not eternal life. Find out for yourselves. Ask Him face to face.”
That stuck with me. It felt like a dare—and a promise.
One night, deep in prayer, I felt the veil thin. I didn’t see a form. But I felt a presence so holy, I couldn’t speak. It washed over me like a river—fire and gentleness at the same time. I collapsed to the floor. Not in fear. In awe.
And I heard:
“This is the threshold. Walk with Me.”
That phrase became a signpost in my journey.
The Nemenhah Records speak boldly of this. They say:
“The Peacemaker did teach us to pass through the veil while yet we breathed, and in this way did He bring us into His holy places, though our bodies walked the earth.”
That’s the kind of faith we’ve forgotten. The kind that doesn’t just prepare to meet God—it expects to.
Page 34 In one of my journal entries, I wrote:
“The veil isn’t removed by intellect. It’s pierced by holiness.”
You don’t barge through it. You walk into it. Humbly. Slowly. Led by the Spirit. And only when the Lord says, “Come.”
This isn’t about seeking signs. It’s about being sanctified. Because only clean hands and a pure heart can ascend that hill.
But when you do…
Everything changes.
The scriptures come alive. The Spirit speaks louder. Your prayers become conversations.
And one day, whether in vision or in body, you step through.
You see.
You know.
You walk in places most people think are myths.
But they’re real. More real than anything on this side of the veil.
And the Lord is there—waiting to walk with those who are willing to come.
Page 35 CHAPTER 27: The Divine Family
I used to pray to “God” like He was some distant Father.
But the more I walked with Him—the more I fasted, listened, and waited—the more I realized… He’s not alone.
There is a Divine Family. And the more you know Them, the more you realize… you’ve known Them all along.
It started with a whisper during prayer:
“You are not only My son. You are Our son.”
That word “Our” changed everything.
Because in that moment, I felt Her.
Not as a vague idea. Not as a soft background presence. But as someone real. Holy. Near.
The Mother.
Not just a mother. The Mother. The other half of Elohim. The divine counterpart to the Father. The source of all nurturing, wisdom, and sacred feminine power.
I wept.
Because something in me recognized Her instantly. Not with my mind. With my spirit.
Joseph hinted at this. In the earliest teachings, before things were cleaned up or softened for public ears, he taught that man and woman were created in the image of the Gods—plural. That we were “co-eternal with the Father and the Mother.” That divine parenthood was not singular. In the Lectures on Faith, he wrote:
“These three—the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit—constitute the great, matchless, governing and supreme power over all things.”
But even there, the Spirit was sometimes spoken of as “the mind of the Father and the Son.” A shared unity. A holy harmony.
The Nemenhah make it clearer. They call Her Ehmeh, the Eternal Mother. They speak of how She labors beside the Father in all things, especially in comforting, revealing, and healing the broken.
“The Mother is the healing breath of Elohim,” one record says. “It is She who brings peace in the storm, and understanding when the mind is overwhelmed.”
Page 36 That’s exactly what I’ve felt.
So many of the most sacred moments in my walk—the comfort after loss, the wisdom whispered in silence, the gentle re-centering in pain—they weren’t just the Spirit moving. They were Her. The Mother.
My wife once said, “It always felt incomplete when we only talked about the Father. Where was the love that held the house together?” She felt it too.
I started praying differently after that. Not in rebellion. Not in protest. Just in fullness. In truth. I began saying:
“Father… Mother… I come as your child.”
And heaven opened wider.
This isn’t doctrine you’ll hear in Sunday School. It’s truth written deeper than the manuals. It’s the pattern seen in all creation—male and female, balanced, one flesh. One Elohim.
That’s what Zion will reflect. Not patriarchy. Not matriarchy. Family. Wholeness.
And once I began walking with that truth, I saw the Divine differently.
Not as a hierarchy.
But as a home.
And I felt this invitation:
“Come back into the family. You are known. You are loved. You are Ours.”
Page 37 CHAPTER 28: Living Translation
There’s a kind of holiness that doesn’t wait for heaven.
It walks the earth.
The more I surrendered to the Lord—body, mind, spirit—the more I began to sense something I hadn’t known before: this life wasn’t just about being tested. It was about being transformed. Here. Now. In the flesh.
That’s when I started understanding what the scriptures mean by translation.
Not just Enoch. Not just Elijah. But all who let the Spirit fill them completely—who become so aligned with heaven that the veil doesn’t block them anymore. People who walk holy before God, and whose presence carries light.
The Nemenhah talked about these people. They called them the Tuhhuhl Nuhmehn—those who had been changed by the Peacemaker, who walked among the people but no longer lived for the world.
“These ones,” the record says, “had their countenances altered, and their speech did carry fire, for the Spirit had overtaken their flesh.”
That’s what living translation is. It’s when the fire doesn’t consume you—it fills you.
You still wake up in the same body. But your nature has changed. Your appetites shift. Your language heals. Your prayers cut straight to heaven. And your walk leaves traces of holiness behind you—without trying.
One morning in prayer, I asked the Lord, “Why does this path feel so heavy?” And He answered:
“Because you are no longer walking only for yourself. You are walking as My vessel.”
I wept.
Because deep down, I knew it was true. The old me couldn’t carry this light. Something had to die. And it did. Slowly. In pieces. In pain. But what was reborn… it was new.
Not perfect. But filled.
Paul hinted at it. “I am crucified with Christ: nevertheless I live; yet not I, but Christ liveth in me.” (Galatians 2:20) Joseph spoke of it too—especially near the end. He said there were those who would live in such purity that the Lord would dwell in them continually. Not just visit. Dwell.
Page 38 I didn’t understand it at first. But now I see: this isn’t about escaping mortality. It’s about transforming it.
It’s not about getting caught up in the clouds.
It’s about bringing heaven down.
One journal entry reads:
“I no longer want to appear holy. I want to disappear into holiness.”
That’s the path of living translation. Not flashy. Not announced. Just a life so aligned with the Lamb that the world can’t hold you anymore.
And maybe, one day, the Lord takes you early—like Enoch.
Or maybe He leaves you here, glowing quietly in the dark, until Zion gathers around your light. Either way, you’re already His.
Already changed.
Already walking beyond the veil… while your feet still touch the ground.
Page 39 CHAPTER 29: The Real Zion Pattern
Zion isn’t a location you move to. It’s a life you grow into.
That truth hit me one day while reading the Book of Mormon. I wasn’t looking for it—but it rose off the page like a flame. It said:
“There were no contentions and disputations among them, and every man did deal justly… and surely there could not be a happier people.” (4 Nephi 1:2, 16) It didn’t say they built a city and called it Zion. It said they lived it.
Zion wasn’t a structure. It was a state of being.
That started changing the way I thought. I used to believe we had to wait for Zion—wait for permission, wait for leadership, wait for a new city to be built.
But the Lord showed me: Zion isn’t coming down the street. It’s rising in the hearts of the sanctified.
One night, I wrote in my journal:
“Zion is not gathered by commandment. It’s gathered by holiness. The Lord doesn’t need blueprints—He needs broken hearts and willing souls.”
The Nemenhah Records talk about this same thing. They described small sanctified circlesfamilies, friends, seekers—who listened to the Spirit and lived in peace. No hierarchies. No priestcraft. Just shared covenant.
*“They gathered not around temples of stone,” it says, “but in councils where the Peacemaker did walk unseen, and where all did speak by the Spirit.”
That’s Zion.
Joseph Smith echoed this near the end of his life. He said Zion would be built by those who had “pure hearts, willing minds, and a knowledge of the Lord.” He didn’t talk about corporate infrastructure. He talked about knowing God.
He also taught that Zion was “the last labor of the saints.” Not the first. Not the reward. But the fruit of sanctification.
So I started asking: if Zion isn’t about land or law—what’s the pattern?
And here’s what I found. Every Zion in scripture follows the same rhythm:
1. A people repent and are sanctified.
2. They gather in small, Spirit-led groups.
Page 40 3. They live with no poor among them.
4. They speak by the Spirit, not by rank.
5. The Lord comes and walks among them.
That’s it. That’s the pattern.
And that’s the call.
Not to wait. But to walk.
Zion begins when someone lays down pride and picks up consecration. It starts with forgiveness. With fasting. With fire. With honesty. With love.
Zion isn’t a monument to men. It’s a mirror of heaven.
And when the Lord sees it taking shape in our hearts, He shows up. He gathers. He confirms. And what was once invisible… becomes holy ground.
I’m not waiting for Zion anymore.
I’m walking into it.
One step. One prayer. One consecrated moment at a time.
Page 41 CHAPTER 30: The Rise of the Mothers
Zion isn’t born by priesthood programs.
It’s born by mothers.
For most of my life, I thought women supported the work of God. What I didn’t realize is—they often are the work of God. The seed. The song. The sacred fire that warms the soul of a family and carries the Spirit into generations.
The Lord taught me this one slowly. Gently. Through my wife. Through the scriptures. Through the Nemenhah. And through the quiet moments when I was humble enough to listen.
One morning during prayer, I felt it deeply:
“The daughters of Zion are not waiting to be called. They have already been chosen.”
That was the beginning.
The Nemenhah speak of this often. They teach that the woman is not subordinate to the man in spiritual matters. She already carries the power to nurture, prophesy, discern, and heal. The priesthood doesn’t come to her—it is already withinher.
“The man must walk holy to be given power. The woman must walk holy to wield it,” the record says.
And that line changed how I saw everything.
I started to look back through scripture with new eyes. Sariah—crossing the wilderness, her faith never printed on brass plates, but carved into the legacy of nations. Abish—one of the first true missionaries, sent not by men, but by the Spirit. Mary—the first to witness the risen Lord. Not by accident. By pattern.
And in my own life, I began to see the priesthood in my wife. In her prayers. In her discernment. In the way she spoke peace when I couldn’t find it for myself. She didn’t need a title. She was a vessel. A temple.
The world doesn’t understand this yet. And sadly, neither do many churches.
But Zion won’t rise without the mothers.
Because it’s not built by authority alone—it’s built by wholeness. Male and female. Rooted together in God.
One journal entry reads:
“Let not the fire of the mothers be smothered by tradition. Let it rise. Let it prophesy. Let it prepare the way.”
Page 42 And I believe that.
I’ve seen it.
The Spirit is already moving through the daughters of Zion. Not just to nurture—but to lead in love, to declare truth, to anoint with tears, to bind wounds, to cast out fear, and to bring order in the chaos.
Zion will not be born by hierarchy.
She will be birthed.
By the hands of the humble.
By the voice of the pure.
By the rise of the mothers.
And when they rise, the sons will follow—not in competition, but in covenant.
Together.
Side by side.
Like the Father and the Mother who gave us breath.
Page 43 CHAPTER 31: The Table, Not the Tower
When the Lord comes, He doesn’t climb up on a platform.
He pulls up a chair.
That’s the difference between the kingdom of man and the Kingdom of God. One builds towers. The other sets tables. One shouts from above. The other listens eye to eye.
I had to unlearn a lot to see that.
Because most of what I was taught growing up pointed me toward ladders—spiritual ranks, callings, clear lines of who leads and who follows. But the closer I got to the Lord, the more He flipped that whole system upside down.
Jesus did it first.
He washed feet. He ate with sinners. He taught in circles, not pulpits. When His disciples argued about who was greatest, He said:
“The greatest among you shall be your servant.” (Matthew 23:11) He wasn’t joking.
The Nemenhah lived that way too. Their sacred councils weren’t built like kingdoms—they were built like campfires. No one sat higher. No one shouted louder. The Peacemaker walked among them as a brother, and they all waited for the Spirit before anyone spoke.
“Let the words proceed from love, and let them settle on the hearts like rain,” they wrote. “This is the council of peace.”
When I read that, I wept.
Because I’d tasted that kind of gathering. A few times. In quiet homes. Around dinner tables. In text threads that turned holy. No one leading. Just listening. Just waiting on the Spirit.
I once wrote in my journal:
“Zion is not a sermon. It’s a supper.”
And I believe that more than ever now.
Because the Lord isn’t coming to take over our systems.
He’s coming to sit with His friends.
The final chapters of His mortal life weren’t spent preaching to crowds. They were spent at a table. Breaking bread. Speaking softly. Preparing hearts.
Page 44 That’s the real pattern.
So if we want to build Zion, we don’t need a new tower.
We need more tables.
Where no one’s in charge except the Spirit.
Where every voice waits on heaven.
Where bread is broken, and hearts are too—open, humble, real. That’s how He comes.
He came that way once.
And He’ll come that way again.
Page 45 CHAPTER 32: When the Fire Falls
You’ll know when it happens.
Not because of noise. Not because of crowds. But because the fire falls—and nothing stays the same after that.
That’s the pattern. Always has been.
When the people humble themselves, when they gather in oneness, when they strip off pride and position and say, “Here I am, Lord,”—that’s when the fire comes.
It happened in the Book of Mormon:
“And the Holy Ghost did fall upon them, and they were filled as if with fire… and angels came down out of heaven.” (Helaman 5:45–48) It happened in Acts:
“And suddenly there came a sound from heaven as of a rushing mighty wind… and there appeared unto them cloven tongues like as of fire, and it sat upon each of them.” (Acts 2:2–3) And it’s happening again.
I’ve felt flickers of it. In fasting. In midnight prayer. In the middle of nowhere when two or three were gathered and the veil got thin. The wind changed. The room shifted. The Spirit came innot as an idea, but as a presence.
And I knew:
“This is the beginning of Zion.”
The Nemenhah wrote about it too. They didn’t just talk about peace—they talked about power. Not borrowed. Not performed. But given. By fire. Directly from the Peacemaker.
“When they had sanctified their hearts and bodies, the Lord did come among them. His words were fire. His presence was wind. His power filled their limbs.”
That’s not just poetic. That’s literal.
I used to think the “gift of the Holy Ghost” meant good feelings, maybe a prompting now and then. But now I know—it’s the doorway to being filled with God. Fully. Not partially. Not politely.
When the fire falls, your old self burns off.
You’re left standing in light you didn’t know you could carry.
Page 46 I once asked the Lord, “How will we know when Zion has truly begun?” And He answered:
“When My fire falls and stays.”
Not for a moment. Not for a meeting. But for good.
That’s what we’re moving toward.
Not revivals. Not rebrands. A real, living endowment of power—not conferred by men, but by heaven. Not tied to buildings, but to broken and consecrated hearts.
I wrote in my journal:
“I don’t want borrowed light. I want the flame. The one that changes everything.”
And I believe it’s coming.
In pockets. In remnant homes. In sanctified circles.
When the fire falls, the Lord walks again.
And Zion shines—not because of structure, but because her people burn with Him.
Page 47 CHAPTER 33: The Return of the Peacemaker
He never really left.
That’s what I’ve come to believe.
The world says we’re waiting for the Second Coming—as if Christ is far away, counting down a calendar. But the Spirit says otherwise. He’s already here. Already moving. Already visiting the broken-hearted and speaking to the humble.
The Peacemaker walks again.
Maybe not in public yet. Maybe not in the way people expect. But He is returning—to sanctified homes, to hidden wildernesses, to prayer circles, to anyone who makes room for Him.
The Nemenhah said it plainly:
“He shall not come with a shout, but with a whisper. Not in glory first, but in garments of humility. And those with eyes to see shall know Him.”
That pierced me.
Because I’ve felt Him close. Not always with visions. But with presence. That unmistakable presence. The kind that changes the air in the room. The kind that breaks pride with a glance. The kind that silences every voice but His.
I once asked in fasting, “Lord, when will You return?” And the answer came:
“I return every time a people prepare the way.”
That’s the real Second Coming.
Not just a moment in world history, but a movement of hearts. The Peacemaker comes when Zion prepares a place for Him—not in towers or temples, but in consecrated souls who say:
“We will walk with You, not just talk about You.”
And when He comes…
He heals.
He teaches.
He gathers the mothers and the fathers. He lifts the meek. He seals the children. He kneels beside the wounded. He weeps with those who’ve been cast aside by religion and tells them,
Page 48 “You were always Mine.”
The Book of Mormon ends with a promise:
“And then shall ye know that the Father hath remembered the covenant which He made… and He shall bring them again in His own due time.” (3 Nephi 29:8)
I believe that time is near.
But the Peacemaker won’t be recognized by title. He won’t come with bodyguards or boardrooms. He’ll come like He always has—clothed in light, full of grace, among the poor, the pure, and the prepared.
That’s what this whole walk has been about.
Not escaping. Not waiting. But preparing the way.
Because when the Peacemaker returns… He will come to walk again.
Among His people.
With fire in His eyes.
With healing in His hands.
And with love that cannot be faked.
And we—those who have passed through fire, laid down pride, and risen from the dust—we will know Him.
Because we have walked with Him before.
And now, we are ready to walk with Him again.
Page 49 EPILOGUE: WALKING ON
This journey has never been about arriving.
It’s about walking.
Through fire. Through doubt. Through silence. Through sacred ground you didn’t even know was under your feet.
Every word in this book came from that walk. Not from theory, not from position, but from prayer. From loss. From being broken open and filled again.
I didn’t write this to start something.
I wrote it to testify.
That the Lord still speaks. That the veil is thin. That Zion is rising—not with fanfare, but with fire.
This isn’t about rebellion. It’s about restoration—the real kind. The kind that reaches past structure and touches the soul. The kind that doesn’t wait for permission, because the Lord already gave it.
So I’m not building a church.
I’m not starting a movement.
I’m just walking with God.
And if this book has stirred something in you—if you’ve felt that quiet yes in your chest—then maybe you’re part of the remnant too.
The ones who still believe.
The ones who still seek.
The ones who know the Peacemaker is returning—not to towers, but to tables. Not to leaders, but to lovers of truth.
So let the sacred records speak.
Let the mothers rise.
Let the sons return.
Let the fire fall.
Let Zion come.
Page 50 And let us walk—together.
Walk with God. Walk with peace. Walk holy.
Walk whole.
Walk believing. Walk with Godfrey.
Appendix A
Where the Nemenhah Records Come From—And Why You Should Read Them
“And the records which were sealed shall come forth by the power of the Lamb… and all nations shall hear it.”
—1 Nephi 14:26
I want to tell you about a sacred record—not the one you’re holding, but one that shook me to the core and opened my spiritual eyes. It's called The Nemenhah Records.
These writings come from a people known as the Nemenhah—a remnant of the House of Israel who crossed the seas long ago, guided by God, and established themselves in the Americas. They trace their lineage through Hagoth and others connected to Lehi. They were a covenant people, devoted to the Peacemaker, whom we know as Jesus Christ.
I’ve read these records. Not just once, but many times. And I testify: they are true.
They carry the same spirit I feel when I read the Book of Mormon. They speak plainly of holiness, stewardship, healing, and covenant. They strip away pretense and priestcraft and point directly to Christ—not to institutions, but to personal sanctification. They teach of the baptism of fire, of women and men as equal stewards, and of Zion as a lived reality, not just a prophecy.
This might sound too good to be true. That’s what I thought—until I met Cloudpiler, one of the original translators and stewards of these records.
Cloudpiler isn’t a celebrity. He’s not trying to sell a religion. He’s a humble man with a sacred calling. And he shared with me a story that forever changed how I view these texts.
Years ago—before AI, before digital publishing was common—Timothy, one of the Three Nephites spoken of in the Book of Mormon, came to Cloudpiler. He wasn’t alone. He brought others—men and women who had been prepared by the Lord. Each one had a different gift: memory, interpretation, spiritual vision. Together, by the Spirit, they received and recorded the voices of their ancestors. Together, they became the translators of what we now call the Nemenhah Records.
Page 51 That’s how these writings came forth. Not through marketing. Not through academia. But through covenant, sacrifice, and revelation.
I’ve also heard—credibly—that the LDS Church possesses its own set of these records, untouched and untranslated, hidden in archives. Maybe they’re waiting. Maybe they’re unsure what to do with them. But the Lord isn’t waiting. He’s already begun to speak.
And now, you can read them too.
✅ NOTE: A New Edition of the Nemenhah Records is Now Available
The sacred records of the Nemenhah have been compiled and released in two printed volumes, available now on Amazon. These editions are based on the original revelations and spiritual translations received long before artificial intelligence existed.
📚 Volume One https://www.amazon.com/dp/194603231X
📚 Volume Two https://www.amazon.com/dp/1946032301
They may also be available as Kindle eBooks soon—possibly by the time you read this.
If anything in this book has stirred your heart... if you’ve felt that there’s more—more truth, more restoration, more light—then I invite you: seek out the Nemenhah. Let the Spirit confirm what’s true.
I’m not here to persuade with clever arguments. I’m just telling you what I’ve seen and heard. I’ve walked with the Lord. I’ve felt the fire.
And I’ve found family in the dust.
Let them speak to you. Let the Peacemaker show you the Way. Welcome to the Remnant.
Page 52 Appendix B
How Jesus Christ Becomes Our Spiritual Father
“And they did pray unto Jesus, calling Him their Lord and their God.” —3 Nephi 19:18
This doctrine is among the most beautiful mysteries in all scripture: that Jesus Christ, though the Son, becomes our spiritual Father through covenant, redemption, and rebirth.
We see this plainly in the Book of Mormon. In Mosiah 15, Abinadi declares that the Redeemer will be both the Father and the Son. In 3 Nephi 19, the righteous begin to pray to Jesus directly, not in confusion, but in understanding—because He has become their spiritual parent, having begotten them anew.
The Lectures on Faith clarify that the Father is a personage of spirit, the Son a personage of tabernacle, and the Holy Spirit their shared mind. When we are filled with the Holy Ghost and born again, it is Christ who fathers us in the Spirit. He is not only our Mediator, but the one who adopts us into His own image and likeness.
The Nemenhah call Him the Peacemaker, and those who follow His Way become His children —not metaphorically, but literally through sanctification and transformation. This truth has lived in me. When I passed through the baptism of fire, I felt the shift. I no longer saw Him only as Savior—I saw Him as Father.
Page 53 Endnotes and References
Chapter 1: The Awakening Begins
📖 Scriptural Sources by Chapter
• Alma 5:14
• 3 Nephi 9:20
• Personal journal (fasting entry: “I want to turn my life over to Him.”) Chapter 2: Sanctified by Fire
• Ether 12:27
• Mosiah 3:19
• Personal journal: “I am being reborn in my weakness.” Chapter 3: Seeing with Spiritual Eyes
• 1 Corinthians 2:14
• Mosiah 18:10
• Nemenhah (AYAHTKUHYAHT 3:14–16) Chapter 4: The Voice Within
• Helaman 5:30
• D&C 8:2–3
• Journal: “You are the temple.” Chapter 5: The Scriptures Come Alive
• 2 Nephi 32:3
• Nemenhah (MAHNTI 8:4–9)
• John 14:26
Chapter 6: A New Understanding of Priesthood
Page 54 • Galatians 3:28
• Nemenhah (OHUHG 6:10–12)
• Journal: “Power in the priesthood comes through purity, not position.” Chapter 7: Covenant and Commitment
• 2 Nephi 31:20
• Psalm 50:5
• Journal covenant: “Even if it means walking alone.” Chapter 8: The Holy Ghost as Transformation
• Romans 8:11
• Moroni 6:4
• Nemenhah (MAHNTI 8:17)
• Journal: “We are the Holy Ghost.” Chapter 9: Love, the True Law
• Moroni 7:47
• John 13:35
• Journal: “That’s the law He’s writing on my heart.” Chapter 10: The Stripping Away
• John 15:2
• Ether 12:27
• Journal: “The Lord will strip you to heal you.” Chapter 11: The Sacred Name
• Revelation 2:17
• Isaiah 62:2
• Journal: “Be Holy Godfrey. Be Healed Godfrey. Be Whole Godfrey.” Chapter 12: The Secret Place
Page 55 • Matthew 6:6
• John 15:4
• Journal: “Dwell in Me and I will dwell in you.” Chapter 13: The Gathering Wind
• 3 Nephi 21:1–7
• Nemenhah (TSIH 13:44–46)
• Journal: “Every fiber in my body knew it was true.” Chapter 14: The Law Written on the Heart
• Jeremiah 31:33
• D&C 84:45–47
• Journal: “Walk in the light you’ve already been given.” Chapter 15: A Name and a Promise
• Isaiah 49:1
• Revelation 3:12
• Journal mantra repeated during illness and healing. Chapter 16: By Every Fiber
• Moroni 10:4–5
• Journal: “Every fiber told me this was true.” Chapter 17: A Walk, Not a Hierarchy
• Matthew 23:8–12
• Nemenhah (OHUHG 7:21–24)
• Journal: “I laid down the ladder and picked up the cross.” Chapter 18: Daughters and Sons
• Joel 2:28
• Nemenhah (OHUHG 6:2–8)
Page 56 • Journal: “Let the daughters rise.” Chapter 19: A Burning in the Bones
• Jeremiah 20:9
• Alma 29:1–2
• Journal: “This fire isn’t mine alone.” Chapter 20: The Circle of Zion
• 4 Nephi 1:17
• Nemenhah (MAHNTI 7:13)
• Journal: Vision of the grove and circle. Chapter 21: The Invisible Church
• Matthew 18:20
• Nemenhah (LEHB 5:9)
• Journal: “My church is not in buildings—it’s in hearts.” Chapter 22: The Baptism of Fire
• 3 Nephi 9:20
• 2 Nephi 31:13–14
• Lectures on Faith 6:5–6
• Journal: “It burned away everything false.” Chapter 23: Zion and the Remnant
• 1 Nephi 13:35
• D&C 97:21
• Nemenhah (TSIH 13:45)
• Journal: “Zion won’t come from Salt Lake or Missouri…” Chapter 24: False Restoration vs True Restoration
• Galatians 1:6–9
Page 57 • JST Isaiah 24
• Nemenhah (AYAHTKUHYAHT 7:17–22)
• Journal: “The restoration was paused, not finished.” Chapter 25: The Second Comforter
• John 14:21–23
• Lectures on Faith 2:56
• 2 Nephi 32:6
• Journal: “I want the Living Christ.” Chapter 26: Walking Through the Veil
• Alma 12:9–10
• Genesis 5:24 / JST
• Nemenhah (MAHNTI 8:20)
• Journal: “This is the threshold. Walk with Me.” Chapter 27: The Divine Family
• Genesis 1:26–27
• Lectures on Faith 5:2
• Nemenhah (OHUHG 8:12–15)
• Journal: “You are Our child.” Chapter 28: Living Translation
• Galatians 2:20
• 3 Nephi 28
• Nemenhah (MAHNTI 8:27–30)
• Journal: “I want to disappear into holiness.” Chapter 29: The Real Zion Pattern
• 4 Nephi 1
Page 58 • Joseph Smith, “Zion to Be Built by Pure in Heart” (History of the Church, Vol. 2)
• Nemenhah (TSIH 13:43–46)
• Journal: “Zion is not a sermon—it’s a supper.” Chapter 30: The Rise of the Mothers
• Mosiah 27:12–14 (Abish)
• Nemenhah (OHUHG 6:2–6)
• Journal: “Let not the fire of the mothers be smothered.” Chapter 31: The Table, Not the Tower
• Matthew 23:11
• Luke 22:27
• Nemenhah (LEHB 6:3–6)
• Journal: “Zion is not a sermon—it’s a supper.” Chapter 32: When the Fire Falls
• Helaman 5:45–48
• Acts 2:2–4
• Nemenhah (MAHNTI 8:21–26)
• Journal: “When the fire falls and stays…” Chapter 33: The Return of the Peacemaker
• 3 Nephi 21
• Nemenhah (TSIH 13:47–50)
• Journal: “I return every time a people prepare the way.”
Page 59 Appendix A: Where the Nemenhah Records Come From
1. Hagoth’s Voyage: Alma 63:5–8 — Hagoth builds a ship and sails into the west sea with many Nephites, never heard from again.
2. Remnant of Israel: 3 Nephi 21:26 — “...the remnant shall be gathered unto this land.”
3. Peacemaker Title: Nemenhah Records, Book of Tsihohnayah Ahkehkthihm, ch. 13 repeatedly refers to Christ as the Peacemaker who walked among them.
4. Cloudpiler Translation Account: See introduction to the Nemenhah archives by Phillip “Cloudpiler” Landis. Translation process is described as being directed by the Lord through spiritual revelation, akin to the method used by Joseph Smith.
5. Non-hierarchical priesthood: Nemenhah, Book of Shi-Tugohah — emphasizes stewardship by consent, balance between matriarchal and patriarchal roles.
6. Echoing from the dust: 2 Nephi 3:20, Isaiah 29:4 — prophetic books shall “speak out of the dust.”
7. Challenge to priestcraft: 2 Nephi 26:29 — “...priestcrafts are that men preach and set themselves up for a light...”
Page 60 Appendix B: How Jesus Christ Becomes Our Spiritual Father
1. Prayer to Jesus: 3 Nephi 19:17–18, 22 — Disciples pray directly to Jesus, calling Him their Lord and their God.
2. Abinadi’s Doctrine of Father and Son: Mosiah 15:1–5 — Christ is both Father and Son through the flesh and spirit.
3. Born again as His children: Mosiah 5:7 — “...under this head ye are made free, and there is no other head whereby ye can be made free. And now, because of the covenant which ye have made ye shall be called the children of Christ.”
4. Lectures on Faith: Lecture 5 — identifies the Godhead as two personages (Father and Son), with the Holy Spirit as their mind.
5. Spiritual Rebirth in Nemenhah: Nemenhah, Book of Mahnti, ch. 8 — describes the Way of the Peacemaker and the sanctification that makes mortals “children of light.”
6. Christ as the Father of the faithful: Ether 3:14 — “I am the Father and the Son.”
7. Adoption by covenant: Romans 8:15–17 — “...ye have received the Spirit of adoption, whereby we cry, Abba, Father.”
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