As I was heading up the stairs the noise I had heard earlier was getting louder but I still couldn't figure out what it was. It seemed to be a sort of...banging noise with grunts or something. I was certainly curious about it as I headed down the hallway to the master bedroom. The closer I got to the room, the louder the noise got then I could pick out my wife's voice above the rest of the noise. Just a few steps away from the door, it finally hit me. The sounds I was hearing were the sounds of. There had been tears, but usually they were tears of happiness or joy or ecstasy. Solemn words were spoken, but never for this purpose, and never interrupted by sobs. People touched each other, but never a hand heavily placed on a shoulder to try to bring comfort. Hugs were common, but never so desperately comforting.And unlike other gatherings, there was no one leading. In a sense the leader was dead, but Brother Joseph had never led gatherings, he just made them exist out of his brilliant,. More

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