A Sense of Heaven, a documentary of Margaret Morry Bulko’s life’s work, was written to help those on the path of life to continue to hold strongly to faith, the key to eternal happiness. The author’s experiences will intrigue those who have a true desire to progress as well as those who have lost hope that they may find joy and inner peace. It is important that readers understand that the experiences they have had — similar to those of the author — are not necessarily wrong or unnatural. They represent the journey of the soul ever onwards in a quest to attain at-one-ment with the Creator — that wonderful, divine majesty that each heart seeks and truly desires. This book is a "journey of a soul" who has stumbled and fallen many times along the path but has continued to hold on in faith to that which is all powerful — all mighty — all love.

The following is an excerpt from the first chapter of Margaret's inspirational book, A Sense of Heaven. See below to order your copy of the book today.

The room filled with a soft golden light. A couple of minutes passed before I saw him — the elderly man with the silvery gray hair and the drab loose-fitting garment. He was standing on the outside of the coffee table. I stared at him and he stared at me. Many things rushed through my mind. Who is this man? Why is he here today? I began to notice things about him. I noticed his wavy hair and how well he was groomed. I saw his eyes, his face. His whole countenance personified love and serenity. His eyes were alive and they seemed to sparkle. I knew he came from ancient times. There was an agelessness about this man. He could have been eighty years old or he could have been eight thousand.

A warm feeling came over me — starting from the pit of my stomach and moving all the way up my body until I felt completely enveloped with peace. Then, without warning, he printed his name in small black letters across the room. It was like teletype. I read the words out loud as they appeared: "JOSEPH THE WORKER — MISSION WORK!" In my head I heard the words, "Your mission is your work."

Again, while I sat with my eyes totally transfixed on his face something started to happen. I was impressed to look down, and there over my solar plexus was a golden ball about the size of a football. It reminded me of a miniature sun giving off glorious rays of light. This globe of golden light started to move upwards until I could no longer see it. The next thing I know I'm inside a great oval-shaped bubble of silvery light. Joseph was also inside this bubble.

His final words that day came to me in a strange manner. I could see the words tumbling out of his forehead on a cloudlike vapor and at the same time I was hearing the words in my head. His voice was very soft and gentle and filled with love.

He said, "Don't worry about food in your stomach or a roof over your head. You just do your work and we'll take care of you." Then he disappeared.