Don Nori passed into glory April 17, 2018, at the age of 66. He is survived by his wife, Cathy, their 5 sons, and 7 grandchildren.
Don was the founder of Destiny Image Inc., a company dedicated to spreading the Word of God to the nations to inspire a godly generation.
Through his own writings, and by publishing the writings of thousands more, Don leaves behind a legacy of leading believers the world over into a deeper relationship with Christ.
Don Nori Sr, along with his wife Cathy founded Destiny Image Publishers in 1983 in obedience to a visitation of the Lord in the summer of 1982. Beginning in the living room of their small home, it has grown to an internationally respected company represented in every country of the world, in nearly 100 languages, with millions of books distributed. Destiny Image has published more African Americans than any other publisher in history.
Don Nori Sr. wrote more than 20 books of his own over the years. He is a respected Christian philosopher, entrepreneur, consultant and public speaker. He was an international Ambassador of world peace; recipient of the International Golden Rule Award and holds an honorary doctorate from the United Graduate College and Seminary International.
THE VISION
The tale of Destiny Image began late in the summer of 1982. It didn’t start with corporate funding. It wasn’t founded by a successful businessman with a fool-proof business plan and millions of dollars in venture capital. It was started by a man who heard from the Lord.
At this time, Don Nori was co-pastor of a vibrant, growing church in south-central Pennsylvania. Don functioned as the prophetic arm of the five-fold ministry for this fellowship of believers. He also worked in the advertising and sales department of a local newspaper.
One hot afternoon as Don was driving home from meeting with an advertising client, the Spirit of the Lord filled his car. The presence of the Lord was so great that it startled him; and the burden calling him was so heavy that he soon pulled off Interstate 81 to pray. The next four hours were filled with the most intense visitation of the Lord’s presence that Don had ever felt. One after another, the Lord revealed visions to Don of a publishing ministry.
Sitting in his car, Don felt that the heavens were opened to him. A magnificent, unearthly praise filled his mind. The choirs of Heaven sang glory to the Lord Most High. In his mind’s eye Don could see that the heavens were alive with the joy of the Lord with an anticipation and an eagerness of fellowship that spilled into the car and into Don. Then God began to speak:
“I have much to say to this generation, but nobody cares. Nobody seems to know that I have much to say.” His voice filled with a great, unspeakable pain, the Lord continued, “No one cares about My heart. No one cares about My heart.”
As the Lord spoke, a vision was revealed to Don. He was in a great room that buzzed with a tremendous flurry of activity. Although Don had never been to a trade show, he knew instinctively that he was now seeing a Christian trade show. Buyers scurried over the floor. Sellers hawked their wares loudly. Everyone was too busy to notice Don and the Lord walking among them.
“Look at them,” the Lord began sadly. “They are all so busy. They all think they are doing My work, building My Kingdom, but none of them care about My heart. But none care about My purposes. No one cares to know what I am doing in the land.” The Lord paused as he allowed His words to sink into Don’s heart, then continued. “They are building their own kingdoms, securing their own place in the market. None care about My heart.”
With tears running down his cheeks, Don looked up to the Lord and cried, “I care about Your heart! I care about what you have to say! You know that I treasure Your words! You know that I melt at the sound of Your voice!” Yet there was no answer. It was as if the Lord had never heard Don’s cry.
The convention floor began to fade, the images of people hurrying to and fro slowly fading out of sight like smoke being blown by the wind. No sooner had the first vision ended than another began. This time, Don found his mind’s eye looking into a small, cluttered room. An editor sat at a desk in the center of the room, his sleeves rolled to the elbows and a visor on his brow to shield his eyes from the glare of the fluorescent lighting. The editor was busily working on a ream of paper in front of him, changing words, correcting spelling, and muttering quietly to himself.
Slowly, the door to the room swung open, and a man wearing a long, flowing robe walked in carrying a very large stack of paper. Instinctively, Don knew that the man was a prophet. Quietly, respectfully, the prophet walked slowly to the editor’s desk, his sandals flapping softly with every step.
Without a word, the prophet placed his tome in front of the editor, bowing low as he backed away from the desk. The prophet stood nervously, pulling at his long beard as the editor put aside what he was doing and reached for the prophet’s book. Without once looking at or addressing the prophet, the editor went to work. Muttering to himself, the editor began to scratch out large portions of text with his editor’s pen. “No one wants to hear this.” He occasionally crumpled up entire sheets filled with words. “You can’t say that and get away with it.” The prophet stood silently as the editor worked and mumbled, “You have to tell the people what they want to hear.” The prophet never interfered, but lowered his head submissively and occasionally cringed as the editor dismantled the word God had given him. In his mind’s eye, Don knew instinctively that the prophet was willing to do anything to get his work published, even if it meant compromising what God had given him.
The voice of the Lord resounded with deep indignation as He spoke to an amazed Don, “This is an abomination. It is an abomination for My prophets to submit their words to mere mortal men.” The last three words issued from the mouth of the Lord as though the taste of them was bitter. Once more the Lord spoke to Don’s heart: “I am looking for a prophet to publish the prophets.” In the heat of that early August afternoon along Interstate 81 Don found himself crying out to the Lord: “I care about what You have to say!” Without quite knowing what he was saying, Don responded to the call of the Lord. “I’ll do it! I’ll publish the prophets! I care about Your heart! I’ll do it!”
Again, like smoke being blown by the wind, the vision faded. The sounds of angelic choirs, the heavenly anticipation, and the overflowing joy of the Lord all sank away, leaving Don alone in his car. All was quiet, except for the dull hum of cars and trucks passing by on the highway. Don was alone. For a moment, he simply sat in awe at what had just happened to him. Then the abrupt end of the visions began to worry him. “Did I say something wrong?” Silence. “Did I say something out of order?” Silence again.