Books : AMMA`NA`THA

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Books : AMMA`NA`THA
Books : AMMA’NA’THA
AMMA’NA’THA
The story of Mary Magdalene has always been controversial. Some wanted to destroy her, others own her, and still more distort her wisdom, but
Mary's story is simply, and profoundly, a love story....
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Description
Mary's Story
Mary Magdalene, her history and story has always been contentious! Over the years her image has morphed from being a supporter of a
new teacher, to a prostitute and more recently to a wife and the founder of a royal bloodline. Perhaps more commonly these days, Mary has
become a new age "channeled" spirit guide. It seems every generation has their own spin on her and her truth. There is so much written about
her and yet we are no closer to really understanding her. Perhaps the question we need to ask ourselves is why is the world so afraid of a
powerful, loving woman that they have to constantly revise her story?
Mary's story is your story. It is a heart-felt love story between two twin-flames who found each other. Together in loving unity, they expressed
their divine mission in this world and it included loving everyone. They melded their joint will into a powerful oneness which birthed a Christed or
sanctified pathway that we can walk. This sacred journey leads to pure love and oneness. It is an all encompassing healing which means the
end of pain and suffering. This pathway leads to heaven, lived now and for all eternity.
The divine flame of love within Maryam of Magdalene is within us all but needs to be kindled and encouraged. Yet I began to question why her
story kept changing because surely love conquers all. As I mulled this over in my mind, I asked to be shown the truth. Then in an amazing
experience of blended one-ness I found my spirit witnessing the unfolding story of these two twin-flames. I went back in time, back two thousand
years ago, to ancient Jerusalem. I found myself seeing, feeling and crying my way through this amazing true story.
The name Amma na tha was given to me. It means The Mother Returns in Aramaic. This book offers you the lost legacy of balanced eternal
love. I believe that Mary's flame is within every woman who has cried and felt her power belittled and stifled. She is the voice lost in the
wilderness for the last two thousand years. It is time to awaken her within. Find her flame in yours and ignite it into power; return to the inner
Goddess and let her live again, in you! Mary's story is a must for every woman who has asked, and for every man who longs for her healing
touch. She is the voice of the sacred feminine, the other side the Christ consciousness that yearns to be embraced. Walk with Mary, follow her
footsteps and you will remember.
THE GODDESS CODES
Mary Magdalene was trained in Egypt and received special initiation into what was then called the Goddess magic. This magic includes
sex-magic, manifestation and healing but the core element is the transformation of the mind from the mundane to the divine. It is the shift in the
mind or the way we think that really changes us and ultimately gifts us with our divine inheritance. As the scribe of this channeled book (Amma
Na tha), I had no idea how it would affect me or the strange and mystical journey I would undertake. The Goddess Codes recounts my personal
story interwoven with the stories of all the Goddesses. As you awaken into this power you begin to actually LIVE the life of the Goddess .. and in
these current times this is NOT easy! There have been times when I begged and prayed for this Goddess power to be taken from me.. but now..
many years later I can see what a gift it was.
I have written my story, my journey with Mary Magdalene as my guiding spirit in this book, which follows on from Amma. I believe this story will
assist any woman who is struggling to integrate her own Goddess powers and may be struggling to do so. Please go to the link to read more
about the Goddess Codes.... and to order your copy:
Let the magic begin ... allow your life to transform!
*** Please read this short section from the first Chapter:
AMMA 'NA'THA -- The Mother Returns
Oh God, don't let her see me weep!"
I stroke her dark hair and pull her close to my heart. Trembles shake her tiny body and I feel her tears, wet on my skin. I look across
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to the far horizon and see sun and the earth roll together in a final embrace. Is this the last time I will see the motherland of my heart? Above,
clouds float across a perfect sky. Do they bid us farewell? My throat aches and I swallow my tears. Yet here, weeping in my arms, is a miracle.
Look at her! She is so beautiful! Her dark curls, her long eyelashes and soft brown skin, so much like his. She is my precious gift created in
wonder and in love.
Her eyes flutter as she cowers at my breast. She is sucking her thumb again, but I cannot chastise her. We all need comfort and we seek it in
familiar form. I hug her closer, rocking her gently and whispering words of comfort. We both gasp as the ship shudders and shakes as huge
waves smash against the bow. I look up and see the sails open wide to grasp the wind. The great vessel creaks mournfully as the crew adjusts
our course, turning us west towards a new horizon.
I close my eyes, squeezing back the tears. Once, I was a child like her, embraced in the arms of love and nurtured in my beloved motherland. I
breathe and I am there again. At my feet, dressed in rich garlands of green, are the shimmering goddesses of my Israel. Can you see them?
Walking across the green plains I see Rebecca carrying the water jar to the well. Turning to smile with wisdom is Ruth, beloved of Boaz, and
matriarch of the sacred lineage. Like the fruit laden vines of my valley, she is big with child. Here too is the prophetess Deborah, standing in
noble majesty singing the hymn of my soul. Endless fields of shimmering blue wrap beloved Queen Esther in robes of flax flowers and lilies, and
she is dancing.
Walk with me along the banks of the Sea of Galilee. Listen! Hear her waves brush the shore like the strumming of a lute. She is a jewel! She is
as bright as the Queen of Sheba, and she sparkles in the heart of the plain of Gennesaret. In the distance, Mount Arbel stretches to the sky and
the little Valley of the Doves sleeps softly at her feet. Here is my valley, here is my home, and I remember.
Our house had a little watchtower so that we could overlook the long vineyards that stretched up into the hills. It was built for my mother as a
wedding gift to remind her of a green land so far away. Although, according to our law, women cannot inherit when they have brothers, father
always called this place mine, for he honoured my mother's traditions. She was Bridget of the Great Isles. She was one of many strong women
who loved the Great Goddess. My father is Yusef, a merchant, but most importantly The Ha-rama-theo, a man of God and an elder of the
Sanhedrin.
My dearest father was married three times, but his last wife, the wife of his heart, shared my name. Mariam became my new and beloved
mother as well as the mother of my heart. How well I remember the day she came to my house as my father’s bride.
“And where is my new brother?” I asked my father, as he stood before me with his Mariam. He smiled and looked warmly at the dark-haired
woman, his eyes twinkling with love. It gave me time to study her. She had wide brown eyes and was simply, and yet regally, dressed in a long
white gown. Surely this would change now she was a wealthy man’s bride, I thought to myself. She had the telltale signs of the desert ones.
Her dark hair slipped out from beneath her veil, and I could see the tan of her skin, dried by strong desert winds. This was indeed a woman of
mystery and great wisdom. Father had told me she had spent her youth with my Grandfather and then later with Essenes, an austere
community hidden deep inside the unforgiving dry lands and mountains. Her whole family were members, for my new mother was a descendent
of David, and therefore, of royal lineage.
Mariam's story was one of intrigue, murder and betrayal. She was born in Capernaum, the daughter of a priest. However, King Herod, in a fit of
perversity, murdered the great priest and exiled his family. Mariam was swiftly whisked away by my grandfather who was a close friend of her
family. They fled first to Egypt and then later to the desert community of Qumran. As a young mother with a small child she had spent much of
her youth studying, meditating and purifying herself there. Yet she had left the dry wilderness and was now here, in my home, and in love with
my father. I wondered what could have persuaded her to leave.
She looked up and smiled at me warmly. It was as if she could see into my soul, and read my thoughts. I was just twelve years of age and as
yet untutored in the ancient ways, even so, I could sense her wisdom. She turned her head and looked down for a moment, seemingly
communicating with the unseen. She nodded to herself. Was I what she expected? Or was there something else.
“Yeshua is with the wise-ones,” she looked directly into my eyes, smiling. “You will meet when the time is right.” Her dark eyes looked deep
into mine and I felt my soul move in my heart.
Her gaze was now again with my father as she held his large brown hand and walked out onto the courtyard. What a strange and mysterious
woman, I thought, observing her. No doubt her son is just like her. But she puzzled me. Why, would a woman from such an extreme spiritual
background, choose my father to wed? We were a wealthy family. Father had many ships and traded through out the world. He had mines in
distant lands and every few years would not be seen for months as he inspected his assets. When he returned he came with ships loaded with
riches. He also shared tales of noble, white-bearded men and wise, fair women who gathered around stone monoliths and communed with the
nature spirits. My mother's land was a wet and misty place, he had told me. The grass was thick and great trees formed enormous dense forests
that stretched for miles. Of course he also returned with copper and tin to trade.
It was during one such sojourn that he married my mother. According to Hannah, my handmaiden, my mother had bright golden red curls and
the palest of white skin. She was as beautiful as the moon. My hair was a mixture of father’s black curls and my mother's copper. It certainly
made me stand out in a crowd and even at twelve I liked the affect I had on men.
I watched Mariam regarding me for a moment, a gentle smile playing on her lips. She turned to look at my father and I could see the love
between them. This love was real and my heart warmed for my beloved father. He caressed her cheek with his hand as they walked down
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towards the vineyards. My father deserved this love and I so wanted him to be happy. He had married his first wife when he was very young.
She had blessed us with Martha, the matriarch of our family, and my beloved older sister. Years later he married my mother and I was born. But,
as before, poor father was widowed early and had no sons. This time father had chosen a woman of his heart and this was Mariam of the
Essenes, mother of my father's new son, Yeshua........
Please order your copy to read more.......
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