Good Morning, Holy Spirit

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I'll never forget the day, early in 1968, that my father gathered the family together and told us that he was making plans for us to emigrate. He said, "Please don't discuss it with anyone because there may be some problems with our exit visas."

One cold winter night in Toronto, the Holy Spirit entered Benny Hinn's life in such a dramatic way that he was changed forever. The same thing can happen to you. Join the millions of others who have read Good Morning Holy Spirit and discover if you are ready to meet the Holy Spirit intimately and personally, willing to listen to His voice, and prepared to know Him as a person. I actually felt sorry for my dad that day. He was at the end of his rope. He said, "Benny, what do you want me to do for you? Tell me what it is. I'll do anything you ask if you'll just please leave this Jesus of yours." Though it was fascinating, history had not been kind to my birthplace. Jaffa was invaded, captured, destroyed, and rebuilt again and again. Simon the Maccabee, Vespasian, the Mamelukes, Napoleon, and Allenby have all claimed her. Being born in the Holy Land meant being born in an atmosphere where religion casts an inescapably wide shadow. At the age of two I was enrolled in a Catholic preschool and was formally trained by nuns—and later monks—for fourteen years.Nothing like that had ever happened before. And it didn't stop. I was too embarrassed to tell Jim, but I could feel my very bones rattling. I felt it in my knees. In my mouth. "What's happening to me?" I wondered. Is this the power of God? I just didn't understand. The Holy Land couldn't compare with this. How much better to be where Jesus was, than where he used to be.

I looked at the stained glass windows. But they were all closed. And they were much too high to allow such a draft. GOOD MORNING, HOLY SPIRIT The Lord didn't say anything to me. He just looked at me. And then He disappeared. Immediately I was wide awake. At the time I could scarcely understand what was happening, but it wasn't a dream. Those kinds of feelings don't happen in a dream. God allowed me to experience a vision that would create an indelible impression on my young life. As I awakened, the wondrous sensation was still there. I opened my eyes and looked all around, but this intense, powerful feeling was still in me. I felt totally paralyzed. I couldn't move a muscle. Not an eyelash. I was completely frozen there. Yet I was in control. This unusual feeling overtook me—but didn't dominate me. In fact, I felt I could say, \"No, I don't want this,\" and the experience would have lifted. But I didn't say anything. While I lay there, awake, the feeling stayed with me, then slowly went away. In the morning I told my mother about the experience, and she still remembers her words. She said, \"You must be a saint, then.\" Things like that didn't happen to people in Jaffa, whether they were Catholic or Greek Orthodox. Of course, I was certainly no \"saint,\" but my mother believed that if Jesus came to me, He must be singling me out for a higher calling. While God was dealing with my life, other factors were at work that would forever change the future of our family. THE ENDS OF THE EARTH From Gaza to the Golan Heights Living in Israel during the sixties, I could feel the In this revised and expanded edition of Good Morning, Holy Spirit, Benny Hinn shares the insights and the truths that God has taught him through the years. Good Morning, Holy Spirit provides the principles needed to gain a better understanding of the Godhead while you discover Her eyes were still moist that evening as she fell asleep. And during the night she had a dream she still recalls. "I saw six roses—six beautiful roses in my hand," she says. "And I saw Jesus enter my room. He came to me and asked me for one of them. And I gave him one rose."During my childhood, the hundred thousand people of Jaffa had become engulfed by the exploding Jewish population of Tel Aviv to the north. Today the metropolis has the official name of Tel Aviv-Jaffa. Over four hundred thousand live in the area. said, "Hey, I'd like you to take me to your church." They told me about a weekly fellowship they attended and offered to take me just a couple of days later. What was I doing? Having fellowship. Fellowship with the Spirit. And when I wasn't at work or in my room, I tried to get to church. But I didn't tell anyone what was happening to me.

I thought, "I must begin to preach." But wouldn't passing out little tracts be good enough? Then one afternoon, the first week of December, I was sitting in the home of Stan and Shirley Phillips in Oshawa, about thirty miles east of Toronto. Also Paul, when he wrote to the Galatians said: Don’t allow me to boast in anything, but the cross of Jesus. Again, biblical behavior leads us to boast of Jesus, not our own deeds.Also, Benny Hinn describes the Trinity as being like the sun, divided into 3 elements: sun, light and heat. This is misleading. The Trinity is made up of 3 distinct persons, as described at the baptism of Jesus in Matthew 3:13-17. GOOD MORNING, HOLY SPIRIT couldn't shake the image. I saw crowds of people. And there I was, wearing a suit, my hair all trimmed and neat, preaching up a storm. That day I found Bob, my \"weird\" friend who had once plastered the kiosk walls with Scripture. I shared just a little about what had happened that week. And I told him that I even saw myself preaching. \"Bob,\" I said, \"all day long it's been like this. I can't shake the picture of me speaking in huge open-air rallies, in stadiums, in churches, in concert halls.\" Beginning to stutter, I told him, \"I see people, as far as the eye can see? I must be losing my mind! What do you think it means?\" \"There can only be one thing,\" he told me. \"God is preparing you for a great ministry. I think it's wonderful.\" CAST OUT I didn't get that kind of encouragement at home. Of course, I really couldn't tell them what the Lord was doing. The situation was dreadful. Humiliation and Shame My entire family began to harass and ridicule me. It was horrible. I expected it from my father, but not my mother. When I was growing up, she had showed so much affection. So had my brothers and sisters. But now they treated me with disdain—like an intruder who didn't belong. \"Tradition! Tradition!\" says the song in Fiddler on the Roof. If an Easterner breaks tradition, he has committed an unpardonable sin. I doubt that the West will ever truly understand its seriousness. He brings humiliation upon his family. And that can't be forgiven. GOOD MORNING, HOLY SPIRIT weeks—until all of my questions were answered. All that time I was getting to know the Holy Spirit better. And that communion has never stopped to this day. I realized He was right here with me. And my entire life has been transformed. I believe yours will be too. Today as I arose, I said it again: \"Good morning, Holy Spirit.\" I'll never forget those words. I can still remember the intensity of her breathing when she said them.