IMMORTAL CONVERGENCE – The Bridge is Opening
The following songs correspond to chapters in Arlin Ewald Nusbaum’s book Immortal Convergence.
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1 The Window
Show Lyrics
Nothing was supposed to happen.
It was just another early run.
Then a shaft fell through the darkness—
And the ordinary was done.
There was no cloud above it.
There was no earthly source.
At its center, distance folded
Without sound and without force.
Another world leaned through the opening.
Faces crowded into view—
Laughing, waving, celebrating
As though they already knew me.
They knew my name.
I knew none of theirs.
No rocket found the doorway.
No telescope had known.
Heaven opened from the other side:
The two shall become one.
The earthly and the heavenly,
The hidden and the shown—
The window crossed the distance:
The two shall become one.
They are not gods.
They are not saviors.
They do not ask for praise.
They are servants of the Father,
Watching through the human age.
Guardians behind our history,
Hands where prayer requires hands—
Waiting for the hour they can walk here
Without fear across our lands.
Do not call it an invasion.
Do not call the unknown war.
They are family long divided,
Remembering where they are from.
Not by conquest.
Not by weapons.
Not by power from a gun.
Heaven opens from the other side:
The two shall become one.
The bridge is not first made of steel.
It begins when truth is heard.
Heaven crosses into Earth
Through one heart and through one word.
Before the worlds stand face to face,
The crossing starts within.
Every soul receiving light
Becomes a place where worlds can meet.
I am come
That they may live—
Both the dead
And the living.
The Ancient One prepares the Earth
Before the Son descends.
He gathers those who are alive
And calls the sleeping up again.
But Christ remains the resurrection.
Christ remains the reigning One.
The bridge is built beneath the Father—
And the kingdom is the Son’s.
No rocket found the doorway.
No telescope had known.
Heaven opened from the other side:
The two shall become one.
The living and the risen,
The scattered coming home—
The window crossed the distance:
The two shall become one.
The shaft of light was not the story.
The seven days were not the end.
The window
Was only
The beginning.
The bridge is opening. -
2 They Were Waving
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Nineteen ninety-nine.
Before the sun.
I was doing what I did every morning—
delivering juice while the city slept.
I was minding my own business.
Then the light came over me.
I was making my deliveries,
House by house before the dawn;
Porch lights in the sleeping valley—
Leave the bottles, carry on.
Nineteen ninety-nine was ending;
Change was hanging in the air.
I was thinking of my children,
Trying to prepare through prayer.
Then a column formed above me—
Not a headlight, not the sun;
It was quiet, pale, and living,
And it followed where I’d run.
I had seen that light in years gone,
Knew the signature it bore;
So I pulled the van beside the road
And dared to look once more.
Inside the shaft, a window opened;
Distance folded, far drew near.
There, another world like this one
Filled the opening, bright and clear.
Before I found the words to ask them,
Before I knew what I should say,
Faces gathered at the window—
And every one of them was waving.
They were waving and rejoicing,
They were calling without sound;
Thirty faces at the window,
With a waiting crowd around.
They had watched us through the ages;
I had only seen their light.
They were waiting for the Father
To let them walk beneath our skies.
There were mothers, there were fathers,
There were children gathered near;
Every kind of dress and color,
Every face untouched by fear.
No one burdened by tomorrow,
No one bowed beneath its weight;
Life was simple, needs were answered—
Joy had settled on that place.
They knew all about my household,
Every labor, every name;
I knew nothing of their history,
Still they welcomed me the same.
Like old friends who’d watched the pictures
Of my family through the years,
They received me with a gladness
I could scarcely see through tears.
They were waving and rejoicing,
They were calling without sound;
Thirty faces at the window,
With a waiting crowd around.
They had watched us through the ages;
I had only seen their light.
They were waiting for the Father
To let them walk beneath our skies.
Seven days the window followed,
Friday dawn to Friday dawn;
Every street and every errand,
Still their world was looking on.
Every license plate and road sign
Tumbled through the things we said;
Work and dreams and daily duties
Ran like traffic through my head.
They were patient with the clutter;
They could hear each passing thought.
They had waited years to speak this way,
And there was much they would have taught.
They were guardians of this planet,
Quiet servants from above;
Sent when prayers required an answer,
Working in the Father’s love.
We came from Earth.
We are from the city
you know as Enoch.
We live upon
the Bright and Morning Star.
We have always known about you.
We know you by name.
We are waiting for the day
when we may come freely
and openly among you.
They long to lay aside the silence,
To be hidden here no more;
To teach the history we have forgotten,
Open every waiting door.
They long to greet us as their family,
Not as strangers from afar;
To join again the earth they came from
With the Bright and Morning Star.
But they will wait upon the Father;
They will come when He decides.
Still rejoicing, still preparing
For the day they cross our skies.
They were waving and rejoicing,
They were calling without sound;
Thirty faces at the window,
With a multitude around.
They had known us through the ages;
I had only seen their light.
They are waiting for the Father
To let them walk beneath our skies.
They were waving—
Still they’re waiting—
For the Father’s word to come.
They were waving—
Still preparing—
For the joining to be done.
From the city known as Enoch,
From a world beyond our sight,
They are waiting for the Father
To let them walk beneath our skies.
Seven days the light stood open.
Then Friday—
at the same hour it had come—
the window closed.
The route went on.
But the world
was not the same. -
3 Don't Be Late
Show Lyrics
I had gone too long without communion.
My spirit knew what it had lost.
Then one morning, before the world awakened,
He called me to an appointment.
I opened up the front door
For the paper before dawn,
And there, beyond the waking streets,
A pillar of glory shone.
Southwest across the distance,
Like Heaven marking out the ground—
“You have an appointment with God.
Go to where the light comes down.”
A river opened in my vision,
A place I somehow had to find.
I climbed into my truck and drove,
With the morning close behind.
I crossed the streets in zigzags,
Past the houses, out of town,
Through sleeping fields and orchards
Where the country roads wound round.
I knew that I must turn westward,
But every road appeared the same.
The hour appointed drew much nearer,
And still no river came.
I had always found my own way.
I had traveled without aid.
But this meeting mattered more than pride,
And for the first time, I prayed:
“I have never asked for help before,
But I desperately need it now.”
When I finally asked, He answered;
Help was nearer than I knew.
Before my cry had left the roadway,
An old man came into view.
I was late in asking Heaven,
But Heaven had not lost the time.
The answer stood there waiting—
Already near and right on time.
No house stood near the roadside,
No path showed where he’d been.
But suddenly an old man walked
Where no man should have been.
I pulled beside him, asked the way;
He climbed into the seat.
There was something in his bright blue eyes—
Ancient, calm, and deep.
He said he used to know the river,
Then pointed where to turn.
“Let me out along this roadway;
From there, you cannot miss it.”
“Seven-point-three miles to the river.
Watch the numbers all the way.”
Then as my truck began to leave him,
I heard the old man say:
“Don’t be late.”
Seven-point-three miles later,
The river opened into view.
The pillar rested by the water,
And I knew his words were true.
I drove directly through the glory,
To the place where I was called.
There I communed again with God
And carefully recorded all.
“Before they call, I will answer;
While they are speaking, I will hear.”
The help I thought was far away
Was already standing near.
God was not waiting to be willing.
He was waiting for my pride to break.
I was late in asking—
He was not late.
When I finally asked, He answered;
Help was nearer than I knew.
Before my cry had left the roadway,
An old man came into view.
He knew the river and the distance.
He knew the place and knew the time.
The answer stood there waiting—
Already near and right on time.
I never learned where he came from,
Or where he went that day.
But I remember those bright blue eyes—
And I remember:
“Don’t be late.” -
4 Day of the Robin
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Sunday, December twenty-third,
two thousand one.
Winter had come.
And a melancholy
I could not explain
had settled over me.
So I went to walk.
The year was closing under gray;
Billowed clouds hung low.
A slight fog lay between the trees;
Dew silvered grass below.
Fallen leaves lined every pathway;
No one else was there.
The season had displaced my work
In glory with the Father.
A melancholy covered me
I could not name or alter.
So I took the northern trail alone
And carried it into the winter.
Before I had gone far along,
The glory came to rest.
It touched me and the leafless trees
And gathered in their limbs.
I knew how summer leaves caught light,
How green became its flame;
But these trees stood bare and dormant—
Still the glory touched them all the same.
The presence thickened all around,
Too deep to hurry through.
My aching soul began receiving
What the Father freshly poured.
One slow step—
Then stop and praise Him.
One slow step—
Then thank Him there.
Love was being freshly poured out,
Thick as glory in the air.
One slow step—
Then wait before Him.
One slow step—
Then start anew.
Even bare and dormant branches
Held the light that led me through.
Then somewhere just beyond the bend
A distant murmur stirred.
It sounded like a gathering,
Like many living birds.
With every step, the sound grew wider,
Rising through the trees.
But I could not hurry toward it—
The glory governed me.
One slow step—
Then stop and praise Him.
One slow step—
Then thank Him there.
The sound became a living roar
Before I knew what waited there.
Then I reached the bend and looked left—
And winter gray broke open red.
Thousands upon thousands of robins
Filled the branches overhead.
Row upon row,
Branch upon branch,
Every upper limb displayed—
A living red upon the winter.
And not one bird flew away.
No voice spoke from the branches,
Yet the message still came through:
“I am mindful,
I am mindful,
I am mindful of you.”
Of the child who loved the robin,
Of the ache no other knew—
Every scarlet breast seemed to carry:
“I am mindful of you.”
Across the creek, the eucalyptus
Suddenly filled with them too.
Yet I never saw one robin
Leave one tree or cross into view.
They seemed to multiply before me;
Their rejoicing filled the air.
I stood inside the Father’s glory,
Surrounded everywhere.
The child who once had loved the robin
Stood living in the man.
The years between fell silent,
And joy entered me again.
My aching soul had been restored.
The winter had not changed.
The trees were bare,
The fog remained—
But I was not the same.
No voice spoke from the branches,
Yet the message still came through:
“I am mindful,
I am mindful,
I am mindful of you.”
Of the child who loved the robin,
Of the ache no other knew—
Every scarlet breast seemed to carry:
“I am mindful of you.”
One year later,
Same season,
Same hour,
I walked that trail once more.
No robin waited in those branches.
The winter stood as before.
I had not looked for signs from Heaven;
The wonder was His own.
I would have kept it with my wife—
But He would not let it stay unknown.
No voice spoke from the branches,
Yet the message still comes through:
“I am mindful,
I am mindful,
I am mindful of you.”
When the heart has entered winter,
When the years have burdened you—
Remember what the robins carried:
“I am mindful of you.”
“I am mindful,
I am mindful of you.
I am mindful of you.”
The trees were dormant.
But they could still hold the glory.
And so could I.
And so could I. -
5 Red Cloud
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October twenty-sixth, two thousand.
During my early-morning juice route,
I was directed toward an unfamiliar park.
They said a man was being brought down
from the Morning Star
to perform penance.
I was told to finish my deliveries,
return—
and watch.
Before the daylight touched the road,
With bottles shifting in the back,
A voice turned me from my usual course
Toward a park beyond my track.
When I returned, a column showed me
Where a vessel would descend;
Its light came down in measured stages
Until earth could bear its strength.
One man remained inside the vessel;
One stepped out beside the creek.
He had disobeyed upon the Morning Star.
This earth would be his penance.
As he walked, the field around him
Flashed with power from his frame;
Then step by step the current weakened
Until he walked as we became.
For one full day I still could follow
By the energy he shed;
Then the higher light grew silent,
And he vanished among men.
I found him later with the homeless,
Moving strangely through the crowd;
His arms appeared to wave at nothing—
Power passed without a sound.
He blessed them without laying hands,
Then walked a troubled woman home;
The spirits fled when he went in.
She knew exactly who had come.
I carried juice among the homeless
And invited him from there:
“Come home and have a meal among us.
Meet my family and share.”
He lived like one without a rudder,
Accepting what each day might send;
He came and sat inside our household,
Quiet, cordial and restrained.
His shoes were much too large and broken,
Full of holes and ground-in clay.
I brought my shoes and placed them near him:
“Choose whichever pair,” I said.
He closed his eyes
and asked the Father.
Then he opened them
and answered:
“I am not allowed.”
“I am not allowed.”
He could not take the shoes,
But he kept giving;
Nothing for himself,
Still blessing the living.
He walked among the homeless,
Unnoticed in the crowd—
A stranger from the Morning Star
Who called himself Red Cloud.
I opened up my book of questions;
I knew this man could tell no lie.
When I asked him what to call him,
“Red Cloud” was his reply.
He spoke of work at Livermore
Like one who knew each room and gate.
He joined my route the following morning,
Answering along the way.
Then something closed the conversation;
He turned to automobiles.
When we approached the homeless gathering,
He said, “Please let me out here.”
He could no longer help me.
And our questioning was done.
Soon I was told his time was ending,
And I returned to watch him leave.
The current gathered all around him;
Earth released him by degrees.
What had lowered now was lifting.
What had hidden now shone through.
The path around him came alive again
As the waiting vessel drew near.
The craft received him from the pathway
And rose toward the world from which he came—
The stranger who had walked among us,
The man who called himself Red Cloud.
He could not take the shoes,
But he kept giving;
Nothing for himself,
Still blessing the living.
He walked among the homeless,
Unnoticed in the crowd—
A stranger from the Morning Star
Who called himself Red Cloud.
He could not take the shoes,
But he kept giving.
Nothing for himself—
Still blessing the living.
He could not keep
the shoes I offered.
But with empty hands—
he kept giving. -
6 Glory and Silk
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I came to the appointed place,
Prepared to wait alone.
A pillar fell from the heavens,
Marking ground unknown.
At its summit, space unfolded—
A window in the blue.
I thought I’d see familiar faces.
Instead, the ages broke through.
A light no mortal frame could carry
Struck me where I stood.
Its power crossed the open distance
And drove me to the ground.
I lay there helpless beneath it,
Unable to raise my head.
Then from within the blazing glory,
A voice above me said:
“Behold the Ancient One,
Who is mighty to save.
He shall cleanse the earth and prepare it
For the Lord’s great and terrible day.”
I tried to look into the brightness,
But could not bear the weight.
I rested, gathered all my strength,
Then raised my eyes again.
First I saw the feet of someone
Seated far above—
Then hair that shone as white as snow
Within that living flood.
His whole life stood within his glory,
Every age and every deed—
A history too vast for mortal thought,
A depth I could not reach.
I looked and rested, looked again,
Until my strength was gone.
The sun went down, the window closed,
But the glory lingered on.
For hours I lay there without power
Until some strength returned.
I went back home the following day,
But inwardly the glory burned.
He had spoken no reproach to me;
No word accused my soul.
But I had seen how great a life could grow,
And mine appeared so small.
The breadth of all his years and service,
The nations he had known—
I could not hold the weight of it
Inside my mind alone.
And as the days passed slowly,
Wonder deepened into pain.
The glory that had shown me what could be
Now showed me what I had not gained.
Then Sunday, in the afternoon,
I sat at home alone.
At the lowest edge of sorrow,
A gentle brightness shone.
It fell across my face behind me,
Through the kitchen window’s frame.
And when I turned to find its source,
A woman slowly came.
She descended in the pillar,
Glorious, yet drawing near.
Her presence did not drive me down;
It quieted every fear.
Then Mother Eve stood before me,
And with tenderness she said:
“I know my husband can be overwhelming,
So I have come to console you.
Let not your heart be troubled.
Do not be afraid.
I know the desires within your heart;
You have done nothing of which to be ashamed.
Be of good cheer—
The day will come
When you too will have lived many years.”
Then glory came as lightly as silk,
Yet filled the whole of me.
The strength I could not stand beneath
Now held me tenderly.
One showed how high a life may rise,
How vast a soul may grow;
One came to meet me where I was
And would not leave me low.
Glory bore the weight of ages;
Love came light as silk.
One overwhelmed me with the distance;
One restored me for the road.
She moved toward me and embraced me,
And gently kissed my face.
The beauty of her spirit entered
Every hidden place.
Through every cell of body,
Through every depth of soul,
I felt her radiance bathe me
Until once more I was whole.
The sorrow that had overtaken me
Could no longer remain.
I rose restored and full of love,
Able to live again.
Then Mother Eve ascended
To the home from which she came,
And the pillar closed above me—
But I never was the same.
His glory bore the weight of ages;
Hers rested light as silk.
One revealed what God can make
Through everlasting years.
The father of the human family,
The mother of all living—
Majesty and tenderness
Both serving and both giving.
Between the throne and kitchen window,
Between the power and embrace,
I saw the wisdom of the Father
In the parents He had placed.
One showed how great a life may grow.
One would not let that greatness break me.
One brought me to the ground in wonder.
One came down to raise me gently.
When the weight of glory left me small,
Heaven answered with the truth:
“I know my husband can be overwhelming,
So I have come
To console you.” -
7 I Came to You Instead
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Four months since the window opened,
Three since glory drove me down,
I stepped outside one quiet morning
With no other soul around.
Far to the west, above the city—
Ninety miles across the land—
A pillar fell from Heaven,
And I knew who made it stand.
Then Father Adam spoke:
“You have asked to come to our city,
But I have come to you instead.”
From the base of that distant glory
A stream of light reached out to me,
Running westward, straight and level,
Joining where I stood to where he would be.
And through that living line between us,
He spoke with me throughout the day—
Not of Eden, thrones, or nations,
But the life I lived along the way.
He asked about my wife and children,
Four young lives within our care;
He knew the pressures of our business,
Every weight already there.
The man whose years preceded history
Spent the day inside of mine.
While I drove toward San Francisco,
His immortal world touched time.
“You have asked to come to our city,
But I came to you instead.”
Across ninety miles of morning,
A living line of glory spread.
He spoke not of his own beginning;
He asked how my own life was led.
I asked to enter into his world—
He came into mine instead.
Road signs entered our conversation,
License plates and passing names;
Telephone calls, food, and fuel stops
Interrupted us again.
I wondered how he gave such notice
To the ordinary things I did.
He said that he was tending many matters—
Nothing else had been dismissed.
He knew the minute I would reach him.
From ninety miles to only five,
The pillar stayed before my vision,
Keeping expectation alive.
I gathered what I needed from the city,
Then drove north to where he stood.
My mind was spent, my nerves exhausted,
But my love for Christ was good.
Before I saw him, Adam told me:
“Do not judge me by what you will see.”
A man stood with his back toward me,
Long coat hanging in the heat,
Trousers, hat, and ordinary shoes
Upon his ordinary feet.
The clothing of an earthly scientist
Allowed him to pass unseen.
From any distance, he appeared to be
An old man on a city street.
“If you are the man in the overcoat,
Turn around—I’m in the van.”
He turned at once and motioned to me:
Follow if you can.
He walked beside the road through the Presidio.
I drove behind and tried to close the space.
At times he moved with sudden swiftness;
Then vanished and appeared another place.
Along the road by Lover’s Lane,
Then up the steep incline,
The old man climbed beneath the summer sun
As though the road were flat and time were kind.
I tried to reach the hilltop first,
Determined I would greet him there.
He let me gain the final distance—
No strain, no sweat, no shortened air.
For one brief moment, awe grew lighter;
Wonder almost learned to smile.
The Ancient One had crossed into my world
And let me follow for a while.
“Do not judge me by what you will see.”
Immortal light need not be shown.
Eternal years may walk beside us
In earthly clothes they do not own.
Do not measure glory by appearance.
Do not mistake the coat for the soul.
An ordinary frame may stand before you
While ages live beneath its hold.
At the top, I stood and waited.
Father Adam came to me.
Nothing spoken passed between us—
He only looked into my eyes.
Then all the glory of the throne room,
The force that once had laid me down,
Came streaming through his gaze and entered
The deepest places of my soul.
One second more, and I felt certain
I would lose myself within—
So vast the life contained before me,
So deep the years that lived in him.
He turned and walked away in silence.
I could barely stand alone.
The glory that had filled the heavens
Had lived inside an overcoat.
Greatness is not always distant.
Holiness need not announce its name.
The one who witnessed every human story
Asked about my family’s days.
He had planted the first garden,
Seen the first home rise from earth;
Yet he listened to my present worries
As though my little life had worth.
This was not the throne I first encountered.
This was majesty walking near.
I had wanted to behold his city—
He made my own world disappear.
He walked northward down the sidewalk,
Read a notice for a missing dog,
Watched the passing city joggers—
Nothing escaped his thoughts.
Then, as simply as he entered,
He vanished farther down the way.
The pillar closed, the glory lifted,
And evening gathered up the day.
I walked toward the Palace of Fine Arts
While the western sky grew red.
What was I to do with all this?
Would anyone believe what I had said?
“You have asked to come to our city,
But I came to you instead.” -
8 Deny the Lie
Show Lyrics
The window had been opened
For seven days of light.
Another world had leaned toward ours,
Then vanished from my sight.
But I was not the only one
Who noticed when the veil gave way.
Something else had marked the opening—
And evil came overhead.
It was too vast for me to measure.
I could not tell where it began.
High above me, day and nighttime,
Something watched and held its stand.
For one month it stayed above me.
I could feel what it conveyed—
Not a word was ever spoken,
Yet my heart and mind were chained.
Like vicious dogs surrounding someone,
Breathing close and waiting still,
Its presence pinned me in its shadow
And paralyzed my will.
I did not rise and challenge it.
I raised no bold, triumphant cry.
For one month I learned how terror
Could occupy the heart and sky.
Deny the lie—
Not the presence of the night.
Do not say that evil is nothing;
Say that evil is not right.
Do not deny that powers gather.
Do not deny the fear you feel.
Deny the claim that darkness governs.
Only God determines what is real.
Principalities may threaten.
They may watch you from the height.
But every throne and every terror
Stands beneath the God of Light.
We wrestle not with flesh and blood,
Nor merely what the eye can see.
There are rulers in the darkness,
There is spiritual wickedness and deceit.
The serpent’s oldest weapon
Was a question bent against the Word:
“Did God truly say it?”
Then a promise God had never made was heard.
Every age may change the wording,
But the purpose stays the same:
Separate the child from Father,
Then accuse the child with shame.
A threat is not a prophecy.
Fear is not the voice of God.
And the presence of an enemy
Does not mean that evil is lord.
Deny the lie—
Not the battle, not the cost.
Deny the voice that says the darkness
Has already made you lost.
Love the truth when lies are easy.
Hold to Christ when others flee.
The enemy may speak with power;
He cannot change reality.
Principalities may threaten.
They may watch you from the height.
But every throne and every terror
Stands beneath the God of Light.
They overcame the old accuser
By the blood of Christ the Lamb,
And by the word of their own witness—
Not by boasting in their hands.
They did not conquer through importance.
They did not claim a strength unknown.
They held the truth that God had given
And would not trade it for a throne.
Evil asks for one surrender:
Call the lie the truth and live.
But life obtained by denying Jesus
Is not life for evil to give.
I may tremble in the conflict.
I may scarcely understand.
Faith is not the absence of trembling—
Faith is staying in God’s hand.
Months had passed before I met him,
Father Adam, face to face.
I had seen the Ancient One in glory;
Now he walked an earthly place.
Then, scarcely a hundred yards beyond him,
As the evening gathered gray,
A person stood across the sidewalk
And would not move out of my way.
Their eyes locked fiercely into mine,
And thoughts came cutting through:
“Who do you think you are?”
“You are a nobody.”
“I will destroy you.”
I had no strength remaining in me.
No answer thundered from my tongue.
The searching glare moved through my spirit
To learn why Adam’s work had begun.
The threats continued in my mind.
Shaken, I kept walking on.
I did not leave there feeling fearless—
I only knew that something was wrong.
Deny the lie—
I need not make myself appear
Greater than the one who threatens
Or pretend I have no fear.
I do not have to be somebody
By the measures darkness knew.
If God entrusts a testimony,
Then the testimony must be true.
The accuser may condemn me.
Evil may despise the light.
But Christ remains the Son of God,
And God remains eternally right.
Thirty minutes toward my home,
Father Adam’s voice came through:
“Now you know what the world is up against,
And you know who I am,
And what I can do.” -
9 No Rocket Can Take You There
Show Lyrics
Build the rockets.
Chart the heavens.
Let the engines climb the air.
But there is one destination
No machine can take you there.
We can rise above the weather,
Pass the clouds and leave the blue,
Walk upon another surface,
Send our instruments clear through.
We can measure distant planets,
Give the nameless stars a name—
But the Morning Star is hidden
In a higher state and plane.
It is not simply farther outward,
Past some undiscovered sphere.
It is entered by the Father’s leave—
No rocket can take you there.
No rocket can take you there.
No fortune buys a place.
No engine reaches holiness;
No speed can enter grace.
The distance is not measured
In miles through empty air.
The heart must learn the laws of Heaven—
No rocket can take you there.
I asked how one could freely travel
Through the Father’s universe.
The answer came with two requirements,
Plain enough for all the earth:
“Acknowledge the Creator’s greatness.
Love your neighbor as your own.”
These are not suggestions for the journey.
They are laws surrounding every throne.
The moment power turns against them,
Separation has begun.
Knowledge without love becomes a danger
To the Maker and the ones He made.
A brilliant mind can build a vessel,
But brilliance cannot make us whole.
Technology may cross the heavens;
It cannot qualify the soul.
No rocket can take you there.
No fortune buys a place.
No engine reaches holiness;
No speed can enter grace.
The Morning Star is not a prize
For wealth or earthly fame.
The heart must honor its Creator
Before it enters His domain.
I was shown a craft prepared
To carry travelers from this earth—
A room as large as any stadium,
Made for learning more than mirth.
Four ascending rows surrounded
A place where all would be instructed.
Every traveler would study
Before the journey was conducted.
They would learn the people’s history,
Language, customs, laws, and ways.
Those who entered as invited guests
Would never be the same.
They would not arrive as owners.
They would not travel there to rule.
The universe is opened to the humble,
To the willing who will learn.
You can spend your lifetime looking upward
While neglecting those below.
You can dream of distant civilizations
And never help the ones you know.
Our purpose is not leaving Earth
Because another world seems bright.
Our purpose is to serve the life before us
And leave this world with greater light.
There will be an endless age
To cross the Father’s great expanse.
But these few years are given to us
For faithfulness within our hands.
Raise a child.
Adopt the lonely.
Teach the young and help the old.
Love the neighbor God has given—
That is how the heart grows whole.
The Father’s house has many mansions.
Christ prepared a place within.
If you long to see those worlds someday,
Make Jesus Christ your friend.
He is not one path among the heavens.
He is Lord of life and death.
Every doorway worth pursuing
Still remains beneath His breath.
Before you seek another world,
Know the One who gave His life.
The universe belongs to God the Father,
And its kingdoms to His Christ.
No rocket can take you there.
No fortune buys a place.
No engine reaches holiness;
No speed can enter grace.
Build the craft and keep your wonder.
Study everything you can.
But the farthest journey starts nearby—
With how you treat your fellowman.
No rocket can take you there.
The truth is simple, strong, and fair:
Honor God.
Love your neighbor.
And let Jesus take you there. -
10 Immortal Convergence
Show Lyrics
Once a shaft of light descended
In the darkness before dawn;
For seven days a window opened
To a world we had not known.
Faces gathered, hands were waving,
Joy could hardly be contained.
They had watched us through the ages;
We had never known their names.
They were servants, not our saviors,
Guardians beneath God’s hand—
Sent when prayer required an answer
That must reach the world of man.
They had walked through human history,
Often hidden from our sight,
Waiting for the day their service
Could be freely brought to light.
They remembered our beginning;
Their people once were here.
But the distance between our societies
Had widened year by year.
Still they waited for the promise,
When the children long divided
Could stand upon the earth together,
No longer kept in hiding.
At the gateway by the ocean,
Where the iron towers stand,
Father Adam showed a symbol:
One shore joined to other land.
“As the rainbow was a promise,
This shall be a promise too:
Earth shall one day meet the Morning Star;
What was parted shall renew.”
Steel may carry shore to shore,
But truth must carry soul to soul.
Understanding must be restored
Before two worlds are whole.
“Tell them who I am,
When I began and where I live.
Tell them what the plan will be
And where I fit within it.”
The bridge begins in testimony—
In the truth one dares to give.
The earthly and the heavenly,
The unseen and the known,
The living and the risen,
The scattered coming home.
Not the end of God’s creation,
But separation overcome—
Immortal Convergence:
The two shall become one.
They knew the Garden and the exile,
The first home, birth, and grave;
They carry every parent’s longing
To bring their children safe.
Father Adam, Mother Eve,
Still serving from above—
God’s appointed bridge-builders
In majesty and love.
Then from the father of the family
Came the words he gave as song:
I am come
That they may live
Both the dead
And the living
That they who are alive
Need not perish
And they who are dead
May come to life
I was
In the beginning
and shall
Be unto the end
My rod
and my shield
They strengthen me
I shall not linger
Nor delay
But wait
All the day long
Until,
The song
Of the Mighty
Is sung
I shall not waver
Nor be afraid
The Ancient One prepares the earth
Before the Son descends;
He calls the living into refuge
And the sleeping up again.
Yet resurrection comes through Jesus—
Death was conquered by the Son.
As in Adam all have entered death,
In Christ shall all be made alive.
He labors till the world is ready
For the Lord whose day shall come,
Then yields all kingdom and dominion
To Jesus Christ the Son.
The earthly and the heavenly,
The unseen and the known,
The living and the risen,
The scattered coming home.
Not the end of God’s creation,
But separation overcome—
Immortal Convergence:
The two shall become one.
Before the worlds stand face to face,
The crossing starts within;
Whenever truth descends from Heaven
And a willing heart lets it in.
One soul becomes a meeting place,
One life a gate of light.
Convergence has already started
Where truth and faith unite.
The bridge is more than sky to earth,
More than a path through space;
It carries Heaven’s understanding
Into the human race.
The earthly and the heavenly,
The unseen and the known,
The living and the risen,
The scattered coming home.
The watchers step from hiding;
The long-divided stand as one.
And all that God has promised
Moves beneath His risen Son.
Not the end of God’s creation,
But the end of worlds apart—
Immortal Convergence:
Heaven entering the heart.
I am come
That they may live—
Both the dead
And the living.
I shall not linger
Nor delay.
I shall not waver
Nor be afraid.
The bridge is being opened.
The promise has begun.
And now the Song of the Mighty
Is being sung.
Is being sung.
Is being sung. -
11 Twelve Messages
Show Lyrics
Father Adam gave me twelve messages for humanity.
And when I received them, I understood:
Every one had already been written
across the road that I had walked.
First: Know the coming Messenger—
Adam must prepare the way.
He will cleanse before the Lord comes;
He will make His pathway straight.
Like refiner’s fire upon us,
Like the fuller’s cleansing soap,
None can enter such a presence
And unchanged return again.
Second: Fall. The first transgression
Drew the human race from God.
Jesus crossed the separation;
Jesus opened up the road.
Jesus has restored the fallen,
Bridged the gulf and cleared the way;
When the Lord and Adam both return,
Man is wholly restored that day.
Third: Plan. This earth was never
The first work of God’s own hand.
Freedom was the gift He gave us;
Growth through choosing was the plan.
Even evil’s test is bounded;
We can choose the higher way.
God prepares His sons and daughters
For the worlds they’ll serve someday.
Look up and remember—
The heavens have not forgotten you.
Love has watched through every sorrow;
Guardians have seen us through.
Look up and remember—
The Morning Star is still in view.
Twelve messages were given,
And every one was sent for you.
Fourth: Resurrection. Death shall never
Have the final word on man.
Through the promise Christ has given,
Life exceeds this mortal span.
What awaits is more, not lesser;
Greater than the life we know.
Jesus is the pledge of morning
For the bodies sleeping low.
Fifth: Love. For love has fitted
Father Adam, Mother Eve
To attend their children’s welfare,
Not from duty, but willingly.
Adam leads the angels tending
To our needs of flesh and bone.
Every service leans toward morning,
When each child shall rise and live.
Sixth: Compassion. Mother Eve’s strength
Is the mercy she extends.
Where a child has need of comfort,
There a mother’s heart attends.
Look up and remember—
The heavens have not forgotten you.
Love has watched through every sorrow;
Guardians have seen us through.
Look up and remember—
The Morning Star is still in view.
Twelve messages were given,
And every one was sent for you.
Seventh: Vision. They permitted
Me to share what I had seen—
Those who live upon the Morning Star,
And the words exchanged between.
Eighth: Star. They want us knowing
Where precisely they now are,
And the reason why their home is named
The Bright and Morning Star.
Ninth: Call. God reaches toward us;
Father Adam reaches too.
They once walked in open ministry;
They would see that work renewed.
Prophets promised greater contact
As the present age would end.
Learn the words and watch with gladness
For their ministry again.
Look up and remember—
The heavens have not forgotten you.
Love has watched through every sorrow;
Guardians have seen us through.
Look up and remember—
The Morning Star is still in view.
Twelve messages were given,
And every one was sent for you.
Tenth: Guardians of our bodies,
They have stood between our lives and harm.
They have intervened for ages;
Prophecy says they always will.
Eleventh: Builders of the dwellings
For those who one day share their home.
They have learned our likes and longings;
Every preference is known.
Do not wonder if in dreaming
You are shown a waiting door;
Those preparing future dwellings
May reveal what lies in store.
Twelfth: Remember them—and often.
Make them present in your plans.
Lift your eyes toward heaven’s country;
Look beyond what sight commands.
When our thoughts have turned toward them,
When we raise our eyes afar,
Someday they may be permitted
To reveal themselves to us—
All preparing us for Adam,
Coming from the Morning Star.
Look up and remember—
The heavens have not forgotten you.
Love has watched through every sorrow;
Guardians have seen us through.
Look up and remember—
The Morning Star is still in view.
Twelve messages were given,
And every one was sent for you.
Know.
Fall.
Plan.
Resurrection.
Love.
Compassion.
Vision.
Star.
Call.
Guardians.
Builders.
Remember.
Look up—and remember.
*All songs, music, and lyrics are copyright Arlin Ewald Nusbaum