Coming Full Circle with God:From Desert Mountain to White Mountain

From "Divine Orchestration: A 32-Year Journey of Faith"

There is a sacred geometry to God's work in a yielded life—a divine pattern that often begins and ends on mountains, though worlds apart in nature and meaning. My journey with the Father has now completed such a circle, though when it began in the barren Sonoran Desert, I could never have imagined where it would lead or how perfectly it would close.

The Black Base: Beginning in Darkness

It was at the base of what the Tohono O'odham people called "Ts-iuk-shan"—a mountain whose name means "black base" or "the base of the mountain is darker than its summit"—that my wilderness journey began. Known today as Sentinel Peak or "A Mountain" near Tucson, this volcanic formation stood as silent witness to my desperate state.

I had come up from a pit of despair, the very gates of Sheol itself, where darkness had nearly consumed me. The Father's voice had thundered into that abyss with divine authority: "That's Enough! This is My child!" His declaration of identity came before any call to purpose—establishing who I was before addressing what I would do.

It was there, at the dark base of that sentinel mountain, that my foot struck something beneath the desert soil. Kneeling in the dust, I began to dig, my fingers scraping against the parched earth until they closed around something man-made and unexpected—a small red Gideon's Bible.

In that moment, as I held this improbable treasure unearthed from barren ground, I heard the Father's gentle question: "God is talking, are you listening?" My response—simple yet life-altering—established the covenant dialogue that would define the next three decades: "Yes, Lord, I am listening!"

That Bible, somehow buried in desert soil at the base of a mountain whose very name spoke of darkness giving way to light, became the physical manifestation of His pursuit and my response. I couldn't have known then that this moment at the black base would begin a journey that would culminate at a very different mountain—one defined not by darkness but by perpetual whiteness.

The Wilderness Passages: Deserts and Mountains

From the Sonoran Desert, the Father led me to the Mojave—from one wilderness to another, each with its own lessons and revelations. Like John the Baptist, I became "the voice of one crying in the wilderness," separated from religious systems and human approval to hear with clarity the pure voice of God.

The journey took me to Grandfather Mountain in Las Vegas, Nevada, where the Cherry Jubilee Cake revelation came: "Welcome to the Sweet Life, Beloved. Welcome to the Sweet Life indeed!" Even in wilderness places, He was preparing feasts of revelation and relationship.

Through seven-year cycles and eighteen-year completions, through abandonment by family and betrayal by those closest to me, the Father continued the work begun at that black-based mountain. Each desert, each mountain, each isolated place formed another facet of the voice now crying out in preparation for Christ's return.

I became "the woman, the Church of God still in the wilderness, in the place that God has chosen and provided"—fulfilling the pattern described in Revelation 12:6 of the woman who "fled into the wilderness to a place prepared for her by God."

The White Mountain: Completion in Light

Now, thirty-two years after digging up that small red Bible, I find myself having come full circle—yet it is a circle that spirals upward rather than merely returning to its starting point. Though physically residing at Jubilee Acres in Texas, my spirit now abides on what can only be described as the White Mountain—the spiritual equivalent of Mount Hermon.

This mountain, called Jebel eth Thelj ("snow mountain") or Jebel esh Sheikh ("mountain of the white-headed") in Arabic, stands in perfect contrast to where my journey began. Where A Mountain was defined by its dark base, Mount Hermon is known for its perpetually snow-covered summit—whiteness that remains unsullied regardless of season.

The progression from the black base of A Mountain to the white summit of Mount Hermon creates the perfect picture of my spiritual journey—from darkness to light, from death to life, from earthly perspective to heavenly viewpoint. What began in the depths of Sheol has culminated in the heights of heaven.

This is what it means to come full circle with God—not returning to where we started but completing a divine pattern that reveals His perfect work. The circle is not flat but spiral, not repetitive but progressive, not ending where it began but transcending to a higher plane altogether.

The Sacred Geometry of Divine Orchestration

In this completion of the circle, I see the Father's meticulous attention to detail—how He positioned me first at a mountain whose very name spoke of darkness giving way to light, then ultimately brought me to spiritual positioning on a mountain defined by perpetual whiteness. I see how He orchestrated encounters that would shape my understanding—from the buried Bible that had to be dug up, to the vision of His broken heart by the river, to the revelation of becoming His living Torah.

I see how He established patterns of seven and eighteen—divine numbers marking seasons of completion and new beginning, rest and release, bondage and liberation. I see how He positioned me as a voice in the wilderness—like John preparing the way for Christ's first coming, now preparing hearts for His return. And I see how He has brought everything full circle here at Jubilee Acres—the place whose very name speaks of completion, restoration, and new beginning. The land itself becomes the physical manifestation of the spiritual reality: what was lost is restored, what was broken is mended, what was begun in secret is now being completed.

The Circle Never Closes

Yet this completion is not an ending but a beginning. The circle doesn't close but expands, creating ripples that extend far beyond my own individual journey. What began as personal rescue has become corporate purpose. What started as individual healing has grown into ministry to many.

As I stand now on this spiritual White Mountain, high and lifted up in oneness with the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, I see with clarity what could never have been visible from the black base where the journey began. I see strategic pillars positioned across the earth. I see revival fires beginning to ignite. I see mercy bearers extending grace in an hour of increasing judgment. And I see that coming full circle with God never means returning to where we started, but rather arriving at where He intended all along—transformed by the journey, prepared for divine purpose, positioned for impact.

The small red Bible dug from desert soil has become a living Torah embodied in yielded vessels. The voice that whispered "Yes, Lord, I am listening" now speaks with authority to prepare the way for His return. The child rescued from the pit now stands as a strategic pillar in the house of God.

This is what it means to come full circle with the Father—to discover that what appeared random was intricately planned, what seemed chaotic was divinely ordered, what felt like wandering was purposeful positioning. And as this circle completes, another begins—expanding outward with increasing impact, upward with greater glory, forward with divine purpose that extends beyond what eyes can see or minds can comprehend.

For circles, in God's sacred geometry, are never merely circles—they are spirals that ascend, orbits that draw others in, ripples that transform everything they touch. This is the divine orchestration of a life yielded to His purpose—a journey that comes full circle not by returning to its beginning, but by fulfilling its destiny.

"Being confident of this very thing, that he which hath begun a good work in you will perform it until the day of Jesus Christ:" Philippians 1:6