Thankful Challenge: Day 29

A Higher Power

diana-goddess-of-the-huntI can’t end this month without giving thanks to my higher power. I honor all of the unseen hands working my life each day. I give an offering of thanks to the wisdom and knowledge imparted upon me every day. Each day is a gift and I will honor that with my thoughts, my prayers, and my voice.

Whether you are a Christian, a Buddhist, Hindu, a Muslim, or a Pagan, it’s my personal belief that there is something sacred in every religion. That’s why I fall under the “eclectic” category. I believe there’s value in all faiths and I take pieces of those faiths to live my life; to seek my truth.

It’s time to stop being bigoted and narrow-minded. All that does is cause division. If we can truly embrace religious freedom, then we have to realize that in doing so we have to embrace ALL faiths. That doesn’t seem to be something that’s possible.

Wars are started for two primary reasons: money and religion. They serve as a foundation for uniting people against one another. That’s not how it’s supposed to be. We’re supposed to be living in harmony. Now I sound like a hippie, but it’s true. You may not see eye-to-eye with me on my views, but that doesn’t mean that I deserve to be persecuted.

Many religions rule through fear. That is a very effective tool for controlling the masses. I’ve never been one to appreciate control, so I usually end up rebelling. However, there are some faiths that do not use that tool. There are some viewpoints that use love of earth, love of life, and love of humanity to call people in.

So, today is a day for me to be humbled by the powers that I do not understand, yet they welcome me and educate me. Today is the day I offer up thanks to guiding hands and caring spirits. So mote it be!

Where It Hurts: Part 3

So, my life fell apart in 2003 and I left my husband. At the advice of my mother as well as my desire to be free of the hate and torment inside my life with my husband, I started life as a single mother. A nasty, ugly divorce ensued. The man who God had sent me turned out to be a nightmare all because the religious community had let him down. Talk about feeling betrayed.

I wondered if our marriage was ever “God’s will,” which led me to question EVERYTHING about my understanding of God. Wasn’t I going to hell already anyway? This was marriage #2. And according to the Bible, divorce was not allowed yet the entire world was divorcing and remarrying. No one wanted to talk about that.

When I got back “home,” my parents were attending the same church we went to when I was a child; the one where I remembered Sunday School and being Mary. I tried to put my life back together by attending there. I even tried to help with the drama production. I knew I could not do a main part because of working full-time and trying to raise my son, so I just chose to try to help with lines. I was also on the road every other Sunday night due to the current court proceedings with the divorce. I had to travel 7 hours round-trip to retrieve my son. I was being punished for leaving the man God had sent me. Long story short, when I went to the church the night of the performance and was more than willing to help with lines, because I’d memorized the entire thing, I was told my help wasn’t needed and that I should have come to practice. YOU’RE OUT!

That was it for me. I left the church altogether, became an atheist, and quit believing that God even existed. I hated the church. I hated everything they stood for. I hated everything about the set up. It was all a lie in my mind. All of these hypocritical people were running the show and had no clue what they were doing other than trying to scare people half to death. I let my son go with my folks every now and then, I attended sporadically, but I finally just said, “Screw it!”

Although my family understood, they didn’t like it. I began living my life when my son was visiting with his dad. I was “dating,” if that’s what you want to call it, making friends, and trying to drown my sadness. I started drinking socially, which is totally acceptable, by the way (I’m not going to hell).

I wouldn’t introduce anyone to my family. I started seeing someone pretty steady for a while, and wouldn’t take him to my folks. I didn’t want them involved in any of my relationships because they had the tendency to do some major damage. I lived across the street from them, which complicated matters. They would watch who came and went, call me when they knew I had company, and just tried to control me from afar, just like they had my entire life. This time they didn’t have the Bible as a vice though.

So, to finish this up, I left again in 2007, moved back to where my second husband was so that my son could have a relationship with him, and stayed there for several years. My parents became “best friends” with my ex, despite how much they allegedly hated him during my divorce. When they visited, they stayed at his house, not mine. They were mad because I’d left the area. They couldn’t dominate my life or my son’s anymore and it was time for me to pay! At one point, things got so bad that my son was basically being brainwashed to hate my current husband. I stopped all contact between my son and them at which point they threatened to sue me. “God wouldn’t like this.” Many times in my head, I said, “I don’t give a damn what ‘God’ likes because he isn’t real anyway. So, keep your stupidity to yourself.”

In 2012 I found the light, so to speak. It wasn’t the Bible. It wasn’t the church. It wasn’t any of those things that brought me back into an understanding of “God” or a higher power. I had it all wrong. Of course, I’ve written about this several times, so I’m not going to get into it now.

In 2014, a church entity had mercy on me. My son’s school allowed him to attend tuition free. That administrator was truly “Godly.” He was selfless and kind and saw a need. Even though I’d lost my job and couldn’t pay, he showed me mercy. So, my son was able to attend the following year. I have never forgotten that kindness. I began attending his church to try to get my life back together, I guess. I liked his church. It was small and the people were nice, but I still felt odd. Maybe because I was a paranormal author. Maybe because I didn’t completely buy into all of the Biblical teachings because I felt like it was bigger than all of that. Still, the respect I have for this administrator outweighed my doubt. However, when I began working three jobs, church attendance quickly came to an end. I had to work instead of going to church. I tried to attend for a while, but I was so physically tired that I just couldn’t.

No one shunned me or held it against me. My son attended the school, loved it, and still enjoys it. I substitute taught there starting in December 2014 all of the way through the end of school in May 2015. When I started teaching college, my time was limited. The administration was in transition and I was called a couple of times to sub, but they were on days I couldn’t come. Then I heard nothing. I have never been called back. I don’t attend church regularly anymore. I don’t feel like I have to in order to have a relationship with God. My mother thinks I’m a sinner because I’m not hitting the church doors. I had to have a pretty stern conversation with her to help her understand that it was really none of her business.

The point of this entire series is that the church and its people have hurt me so much, that sometimes you just can’t heal those scars. I was really looking forward to subbing for the kids at school as well as teaching college. However, that didn’t happen. I’m not going to lie. It hurt. I miss those kids. I saw them all at the awards assembly at the end of May, and my heart broke. Because I don’t fit the cookie-cutter view of “Christianity,” I’m out. So, I thought, “Why not do what I’ve always wanted to do?” I got a tattoo, I got pierced, and colored my hair plum, purple, blue, and red. I have always been a free-spirit trapped under a dogmatic view of what God should and shouldn’t be; what religion is and isn’t. When I finally figured out that it’s bigger than that and that all religion plays into one another, I found peace. I found a true understanding of what life should be about.

Although I’ve been repeatedly hurt by the Christian community, and continue to be hurt, it doesn’t make me want to be anyone else. I am at peace with myself and have embraced the larger view of my Creator, Jesus (the God-man), and many, many other things. Isn’t that what we’re all shooting for? Inner-peace and acceptance. If we’re not, we’re doing it wrong.

I hope you have enjoyed the last couple of weeks.

Where It Hurts: Part 2

So last time I talked about the earlier experiences in my life regarding religion, church, and dogma, for lack of a better term. I think I left off with my senior year of high school. Well, I started attending another church when I was in college and it was my parents who moved again. At least I think that is the timeline. As I said before, a lot of this is really fuzzy. What I remember vividly is the bigotry and the ill-taught lessons I took away from those experiences.

I was in constant battle with my human self and “God.” No one wanted to talk about anything other than what was in the Bible. Don’t have questions. Don’t think outside of the box. Don’t have a brain. Don’t be a free-thinker.

My son got angry with me when I got my tattoo and colored my hair. He didn’t like my piercing much either. I have no idea where this bigotry is coming from, but it isn’t me. I lived under that veil of darkness for far too long to perpetuate it with my child. His answer to me when I pointedly asked him was “Christians don’t do that. Everyone will look at you differently. Everyone will look at me differently.” My answer to that was, “If they’re really Christians, that shouldn’t even matter!” It was years of watching these sorts of things play out in the church that has brought me to that source of understanding.

So, anyway…

I was a part of the praise team at the new church; singing and such. In fact every church I ever attended I was either involved in the drama plays, choir, youth groups, or something of that nature. I liked doing those things. Maybe I thought it would give me extra points or something. I led a double life really. At college, I was involved in a sorority, which wasn’t the sort of sorority you’re thinking of. But still, a lot of my friends drank and partied. I had a steady boyfriend up until 1996 and then I got married for the first time to someone I hardly knew. We even went to church together. I guess we were trying to atone for our stupidity. I don’t know.

You also have to remember that while all of these things were happening throughout my entire life, I was dealing with paranormal phenomenon. My family DOES NOT approve of my books. It is reiterated to me often, in fact. Someone I went to school with talk to my parents one day and asked how I was. My parents couldn’t remember the name of the girl. When the girl said, “Didn’t she write some books?” the answer to her was “We don’t get into that paranormal stuff.” So, what is religion? Isn’t it paranormal? Miracles? Casting out demons? The actual act of prayer? Isn’t that as paranormal as it gets? I’m confused. So because I don’t write Christian fiction, I’m not good enough. Typical story from typical bigoted “Christians.”

Now I’m ranting… Sorry.

So, I divorced in the Fall of 1996 because I shouldn’t have gotten married in the first place. I had to move back in with my parents. They didn’t realize I had no rules in the few months I was married and they wanted to bring me back under control. What better way to do this than to urge me back to church even more and guilt me for all of the things I’d done wrong? Tell me that you know it wouldn’t work out anyway and that it wasn’t “God’s will.” Now that I’m older, it wasn’t their will.

I was trying to do my school work and become a productive adult while trying to reconcile all of these feelings that I had about God and religion and all of the things I’d experienced before I shut down my “third eye.” While still actively in the church, I was set up on a blind date with my second husband (the father of my child). We met in January and married in February (I’ve never been one to move slow). That was 1998.

He loved God. I loved God. He was hard-working and kind. What wasn’t there to love? His family approved. My family approved. It was “God’s will.” With that in mind, trying to get divorced from that. You think that in getting a divorce from God’s divine plan that you are disappointing God and that you are risking going to hell. But that’s exactly what happened. There were four people in my marriage. Me, my husband, my mother, and his mother. It was a mess. We were fine for a while, but things turned ugly after a few years. Even the birth of my son didn’t bring us closer. In fact, it drove us further apart.

I remember after I had my son, I started buying wine coolers, which was my preferred drink of choice back then. My mom saw then in my fridge and questioned me, accusing me of being an alcoholic and that God would send me to hell. I was in my mid-twenties and being lectured about how drinking a wine cooler every now and then made me an alcoholic.

Let me backtrack a little though. My husband and I became really involved with a local church. We became youth leaders. I taught the littler ones and even helped them prepare for a Christmas production. I loved doing these things. However, there was corruption in this church as well, which I know is a fact for most “Bride’s of Christ.” The pastor was sort of creepy. That’s about the only way I know how to describe him. He was a showman. He was young and we actually spent time with he and his wife. Still, there was something under the surface that didn’t feel right.

When I got pregnant, I wasn’t able to do much of anything. I lost my job right after I found out I was going to have a baby and was on unemployment. I was so tired I couldn’t think and my doctor put me in the “high-risk” category immediately because I almost lost my son early on. Church took a backseat. Because of this, I quit teaching the youth and wrote a letter resigning. My husband refused. Even though he know the preacher didn’t want him doing the job anymore, his mom told him that it wasn’t “God’s will” for him to give up the youth position. He wouldn’t listen to me, so the pastor removed him from the office. He had to learn the hard way. This was the start of the downward spiral that was left of our relationship and our marriage. It just got worse.

After that, and during the remainder of my pregnancy, we attended a more non-denominational church. My husband was beyond unhappy. His pride had been hurt. He was bitter and he was taking it out on me; like it was my fault that HE didn’t listen when I told him to go ahead and resign. STRIKE THREE.

Because he was so miserable, we started attending a Baptist church that he gone to before he met me. We liked it much better there and he needed the peace. I helped out with Vacation Bible School before I had my son and enjoyed the quiet, peaceful sermons on Sundays. My son was dedicated at that church and I also continued to help with drama programs. In fact, that was the first play I ever wrote and the people performed the play.

The play was about a family with an alcoholic husband. The wife was pregnant again. An angelic being came on the scene to help enlighten the alcoholic husband and all was right with the world. The next Christmas, I wrote another play and performed a song. However, by August of that year (2003), I left my husband, moved away from the area, and began life as a single mother.

That’s enough for today. We’ll pick up where I left off next Friday.

Where It Hurts: Part 1

When I was younger, I was very involved in the church. My mom and dad church-hopped a lot though. As soon as they settled into one particular church, I became very involved in drama productions, Sunday School activities, and many other things. I loved church because it meant that I could spend time with friends. I do remember enjoying the Bible stories in my classes though. I can’t count how many times I played the part of Mary in Christmas production.

When we moved again to another church, I think I was in the 6th. I became involved in puppet productions. I loved that. My dad had been in a gospel quartet and one of his friends went there. The guy he knew was maybe in his mid-twenties/early thirties. I remember they guy’s wife, who was significantly younger than him, calling me a whore because I wore a little bit of make-up. The blue and pinks were in at that time and I was experimenting with make-up. Not much, but I liked wearing it and I was allowed, so I did.

When I told my mom, I can’t really remember what happened. I do remember being in drama production in that church, too. These were adult drama plays; no more playing “Mary.” And of course the puppets made me really happy. We left that church, too. But, that was the first time I really remember being wounded by a Christian; being judged by my appearance, even though I was a child. STRIKE ONE.

The next church we went to was a community church and extremely corrupt. I became involved with that church as well, doing puppets and performing solos during services. I loves singing and took voice lessons, so I sang in front of the church without hesitation. I loved God. I began to understand that it wasn’t just about congregating, but it was more about a personal relationship with a higher power. Of course, I also remember being taught, hell-fire and if you don’t do “this,” you would go to hell.

There was a young man in that church who I really liked probably more than I should. He was significantly older than me, successful, and funny. We enjoyed being friends. I believe I was 15 or so. I didn’t have my license yet, I do remember that. When I did get my driver’s license, I still went to that church though. I remember being taken aside into a private “counseling” session with my mother and the pastor. My mother liked this guy. In fact, she was pushing for some sort of arrangement I think. I liked him, don’t get me wrong, and I really would have entertained the idea of dating him, too. See how messed up?

Anyway, during the meeting I was told that my association with the young man was not appropriate. Now, remember, I’ve done nothing physical with this person. He is a friend and that’s all. I’ve been allowed to ride in his car and he has spent hours at my mom and dad’s house with me. Nothing more. But, the “relationship” wasn’t appropriate. The church had another lady in mind for him and successfully arranged a marriage between them. STRIKE TWO.

My first thing was, what kind of God allows this stuff to happen. The plus was that I came out of that church with friendships with others who attended my school. I didn’t leave that church until my parents left yet again and attended another church. I even remember dating my first real serious boyfriend while attending that church and my second serious boyfriend while still going there. I admit, some of it is fuzzy. The one thing that isn’t fuzzy is the feeling of ostracism and hurt from being told I wasn’t good enough for the guy and when I asked questions about the Bible being told that I wasn’t allowed to have questions. I was just supposed to blindly accept everything.

My junior and senior year of high school we attended a very small church and I think we had actually been there prior to coming back. We church-hopped so much that I’ve lost track of it all. I also remember attending a Methodist church with my best friend sometime in there somewhere. I don’t really know. I think I’ve attended every church aside from the Catholic church, if I recall correctly. This is probably why I hate “religion.” I’ve seen too many sides of it and none of it really makes sense to me to this day.

At a young age, this is what I took away from the entire experience:

  • Hate gays
  • Hate lesbians
  • You have to date/marry someone within the church
  • Hate people with tattoos
  • Hate people with piercings
  • Hate people with “punk” hair
  • Hate anyone who isn’t a Christian
  • Christianity is the solve-all, end-all
  • All other religious teachings will send you to hell
  • If you lie, you’ll go to hell
  • If you have sex before you’re married, you’ll go to hell
  • If you steal, you’ll go to hell
  • If you don’t give money, you’ll go to hell and God will send curses onto you in this life
  • If you wear too much make-up, you’re a whore
  • If you don’t dress the way the “church” thinks you should, you’ll go to hell
  • If you don’t dress the way you should, you’ll be seen as “easy”

Not a very pretty list is it? Next time I’m going to talk about why all of this matters and where it all leads. This is an introduction. See you next time.

 

Spiritualist Revelation

As most of you already know, I’m pretty liberal when it comes to spiritual beliefs and practices. I want to share something with you that is not only fascinating, but it is also unbelievable. Most would say that I’m crazy or having hallucinations, but I promise you I’m sane. I do not do drugs and I haven’t been diagnosed with anything that would promote hallucinations. So, as you read this, keep in mind that I have certain “abilities” that aren’t exactly conventional and cannot necessarily be explained through the teachings of the Bible. I do believe in the power of various ancient religions, however, so I believe that might help you make sense of this. Because this was such an awesome experience, I knew I had to share it.

So, I have been doing a meditation program for about a month. It’s an app on woman-meditating-21my phone. My goal at first was to master the ability to quiet my mind, lower my BP, and just relax. I started with a guided program to understand how to bring my mind back to center when it tried to wander off during practice.

I do a 10 minute guided lesson and then do 10 minutes of timed meditation all to myself. As I’ve practiced, the ability to calm and quiet has gotten better, but something happened during the first week of May that sort of changed the game.

My best friend is a Reiki master. He did a reading for me in the beginning of April and some of the foreseeable future was a little ominous. However, I discovered that by using Reiki as a healing tool I could possible change the outcome of the the future. So, he attuned me in May. At first it was no biggie. It just opened up some gifts that had been dormant. Before I was a medium. Now I can see glimpses of the future. Before I could communicate and be present with someone from long distance. Now I can feel when that person I’m connected to is upset or anxious. There are vast amount of other things that opened as a result of my attunment, but there is no way to even put all that into words at this point.

The moment I was attuned, my spirit animal showed up. My friend and I both saw the animal appear in the room (remember, we’re not on drugs). We don’t see anything with our naked eye. Everything is seen through the mind’s eye and through the use of chakras (you’ll want to look that up if you’re interested). My spirit animal is a grey wolf. I’m not necessarily surprised about this either.

485198177I had a dream about a grey wolf and a woman standing in a mirror. The grey wolf was beside her. I won’t go into that now, though. The point is that I was familiar with the wolf and recognized him when he came after the attunment.

The goal of my attunment has been to treat my dog’s cancer. Studies have shown that people diagnosed with chronic or terminal illness have shown improvement and have even been cured. My dog isn’t visibly ill, but he looks pregnant because he has a massive fatty tumor inside of his body. It isn’t attached to any major organs. It is encased in fat. The reason I know this is that we’ve already had it removed once and it grew back to the same size within 6 months of removal. He has carcinoma and was given a death sentence. He should have been dead in January 2015.

The day of my attunment I told my son because he has some abilities of his own. We agreed to work on the dog together. He was a natural at Reiki and turned it on immediately. I still had some trouble quieting my mind enough. So, our first session with the dog wasn’t very successful. The second session was a little better. The third session involved my husband. That was the last time we did anything and I’m about to tell you why.

If you research Reiki you will likely be paired with a guide of some sort. You can call it an angelic being or something along those lines, but you can really tap into the power of healing through your guide. I meditated alone for a few days and my ability to turn the Reiki on became more pronounced and much easier. I started by healing myself physically. My nose piercing was the first place I focused. However, Saturday, my healing ritual revealed that I was sick and by Sunday I was at the E.R. Nothing serious. Just a UTI/bladder infection.

During my meditation Tuesday, the most amazing thing happened. I met my guide. Her name is Iaya. She told me that the wolf’s name is Oakoe. Iaya has long black hair and came dressed in a white linen gown. She had very fair skin and crystal, almost see-through, blue eyes. Then I saw her change into the image I remember from the dream I had of the woman in the mirror. In an instant she was back in the linen gown.

She told me that Oakoe is simply my spirit animal and my warder. She told me that he serves as a protector. What this means is that whenever I’m attacked spiritually, he acts as a defense. I believe this is true. That connection ability I told you about; sometimes it is a double-edged sword. Whenever someone doesn’t like me or throws hateful thoughts my way, I can feel it. It drains my energy. Since Oakoe has been around, I haven’t had that problem.

Iaya also told me that she wants me to work on self-healing for 30 days. I will not be able to focus on and heal my dog if I don’t look inward and heal myself. She told that she wants to teach me how to heal my spirit and my anger. In fact, she put it this way, “If you don’t heal your own soul and your anger, you’ll be of no use to anyone, especially your dog.” The moment she said that, the scripture “Physician, heal thyself” came to my mind.

She told me that she was a sister to me in another life, but wouldn’t reveal anything else saying that her purpose is “the here and now.” At one point she stood, grabbed a bowl, and poured oil over my head. Most of the meditation, however, she sat across from me, her hands in mine. Oakoe was beside me most of the session as well.

isis2When I talked to my best friend, he told me to look up the order of the Magdalenes. Turns out they were an order of priestesses and it is believed that there is some association with the Egyptian Goddess, Isis. This made sense because I have been digging into my past life in Egypt. But, the Magdalenes were Gnostics, which I’m still learning more about.

And there’s my crazy reveal for today. I guess my point is this. In order to truly embrace life and YOUR potential you not only have to think outside of the box, but you have to be open to ALL of life’s possibilities. I have learned more studying ancient religion, relying on my own soul to guide me, and depending on my spirit to take me in the right direction than I ever did sitting in the church. I’m not knocking Christianity, mind you, but for me there was more to be discovered. I believe the teachings of the Bible are very important and I do believe that Jesus was the God-Man, but I also believe that we weren’t created to be indoctrinated into a stifled way of thinking.

If you adhere to science, you know that energy cannot be destroyed, but it can be changed. So, with that said, if you believe in a soul, isn’t that what it’s made up of? Energy? So, wouldn’t it make sense that we can reincarnate? It makes sense to me.

I know. You can call me a radical if you want, but I’m tired of keeping all of this a secret. I love being spiritual as opposed to religious. In fact, I’ve been happier away from the church than I ever was in it. I went down the Atheist path as well, but was then called back to the “spiritual” way of life.

My next set of books are going to recount each of my past lives. I may put it in a series. I may not. I am not going to hold myself to a time frame. I’m going to let my guides take me where things need to go and that usually doesn’t happen quickly. So, it’s going to take personal patience as well as listening to my inner-self to figure out what I need to learn and take away from this life experience as well as why I share with the world.

Bumps In the Night: Part 7–My Own Tales of the Paranormal: Energy cannot be destroyed, only changed

Last weekend I left off on sort of a cliff-hanging note. So, I’m going to start off there today. I left off with my intense depression and how a holistic physician was helping me through it. The supplements certainly helped. However, it didn’t go to the root of the problem. I feared death. Whenever I thought about it or thought about leaving my son behind, I could cry uncontrollably. The finality of it terrified me.

I sat in the waiting area of my healer’s office and looked down at a book. Its title: Soul Proof (http://www.amazon.com/Soul-Proof-Mark-R-Pitstick/dp/0966141962). I brushed it off for whatever reason that time.  It wasn’t long before the dreams began.  3300_1082307191747_1126350_nThe first I remember was about my grandfather (maternal). I could see him standing at the top of concrete stairs. He was dressed in his gray pants and a light-weight button-up shirt. I remember being a child and running up the stairs to him, leaping in his arms and saying, “Please, Papa, don’t go. I don’t want you to go.”  He said, “I have to go for a little while.  Go to Kat now. You’ll see me again, just go to Kat.”  Kat is my eldest aunt who had been dead for a year.  I turned and saw her; she looked like she did when I was a small child and I begged again for my grandfather not to leave me.  When I woke, I could still smell his Old Spice cologne. I had no doubt I’d encountered his presence, but my limited faith at that time didn’t allow me to process it.

Other dreams were of my aunt; her touch on my forehead and assuring me that everything was alright and that she was in a wonderful place. Again, the doubting Thomas I was at that time, wouldn’t allow me to embrace what was really going on.  Another dream, my paternal grandmother, who died long before I was born, came to me. She had passed away tragically in a car accident when my dad wasn’t even out of high school.  She told me that she was always with me and that she loved me. I remember her face and how beautiful she was. I remember hearing her laughing and saying how much she loved watching me grow up.546502_3718372331728_702784292_n

After all of this, I went back to my healer again and sat in his waiting area. This time I opened up Soul Proof and read the introduction. I couldn’t put the book down. I asked to borrow it. This is just a part of the review I wrote about the book.  I think once you read it, I won’t need to say much more about it in this blog:

“I decided to check Soul Proof out for my own evaluation.  How was I to make an educated decision or even an assumption about my existence without complete exploration of all the possibilities?  After reading just the introduction, I was in tears.  So many of my questions were being answered and so many of the feelings were being confirmed.   I prefer to call God, The Great Spirit now.  God feels too negative to me, but that’s just my own personal opinion.  The Great Spirit is bigger than we could ever imagine and isn’t a vengeful old man sitting on a throne waiting to strike us down when we fall.  These are things I think I knew all along, but it took Dr. Pitstick’s book to confirm this for me.  The paranormal phenomenon made sense to me now.   The fact that I’ve had dreams of dead (or rather transformed) loved ones and could still smell them when I woke up was explained.  The vivid dream I had only days after the passing of my aunt in which she was talking to me telling me she was alright and would see me again made complete sense now.  The fact that there are times when I know I’m not alone in my room or in the house or my car or at work; explained.  But the beautiful part is that I’m not afraid anymore!

In my heart, I think I always knew that we were beautiful sources of divine energy.  I knew from years of schooling that energy cannot be destroyed, but it can be changed.  I also now understand The Great Spirit and why I was so drawn to compassion toward nature, animals, and children.  I had lost all of my empathy toward others and instantly, it was restored.  It is very difficult for me to put this transformation into words.  I can say, however, it is wonderful to be walking in the most divine light I’ve ever experienced.  I am new at this type of journey, but I can feel it to my very core!

Everything made sense.  The struggles I had endured throughout the years.  The fight I had within myself made total sense and the conflict was now over.  It all fell right into place.  I have never felt such utter peace in my entire life.  Peace that cannot be bought or explained.  Peace like no other.

I know my soul’s mission.  I know that I am in the right job (child welfare) doing exactly what I have been called to do.  You can’t imagine how much easier it is to get up and go to work every day knowing that I am doing what The Great Spirit has asked me to do.

51MVi5uuvJL._SL500_AA300_I know that when I die there will be more waiting for me; I will see my transformed loved ones again!  I will be with The Great Spirit.  I will be changed in the twinkling of eye; I will be divine.  And I will not burn in an eternal hell for thinking with the brain that The Great Spirit gave me.  I know now why I’ve been questioning so many things.  I know now why I felt at such a young age I was an “old soul,” because in all reality, I probably am!  How wonderful is that?!  To know that you are blessed and divine and loved and that there is possibility for second chances!!!!

The Bible never confirmed any of these things for me as many times as I read it.  I felt that there was something more and also knew that so much had gotten lost in translation.  I realize now that it was The Great Spirit giving me wisdom to question such fundamental, organized beliefs.  It didn’t mean that I was a nonbeliever, but on the contrary, it meant I was following the still small voice and my thirst for knowledge was just as divine as anything else touched by Source.

When I began my agnostic journey I didn’t take the Bible literally anymore, but the profound guilt I felt overpowered my ability to see the truth.  All of my doubts about life, existence, Source, religion, death, dying… all answered and now I understand.

I have made it a point, because of reading this book, to change.  I feel more positive now.  I desire meditation because it gives me the opportunity to commune with The Great Spirit.  I don’t ‘pray’ anymore, I talk and converse with the Source of all existence.  You can’t imagine what it’s like not living in daily fear of being sent to hell and burning for eternity!  That weight around my ankle… it’s gone!”

So there it is. The defining moment that set my life on a completely different path. The transformation happened and I opened my arms back up to the one entity that hadn’t ever left me; He just needed to reach me in a different way.

In early April my husband cousin died of cancer. He was young and vibrant and everyone loved him. I never personally met him. However, as I stood in the line at his viewing, he definitely made sure I got to know him. At first I thought my husband was talking to me. Turns out it wasn’t. Now this is where you can either decide whether I’m crazy or not.  This dead person made an effort to communicate with me. Yes, I know it sounds like I’m schizophrenic, but I assure you I’m perfectly health and very mentally sound. I wasn’t sure what was happening to be honest with you. So the next day at his funeral, it worsened. I felt like someone was screaming in my ear. He begged me to comfort his mother and to send messages to his loved ones. Because I didn’t understand what was happening, I didn’t entertain any of this, but when we were standing at the graveside I could literally feel this man’s presence.  During the service I felt his agony and grief and found myself losing emotional control. I didn’t know this man. Why was I crying? I’ll tell you why. Because I felt his emotion and empathized. In my mind I told him to crossover and that there were others waiting to help him. I didn’t hear him anymore that day.

I went to a person that day that I knew could help me. She did. She helped me understand what was happening and that I have an ability that I still don’t understand.  I associate it with having a genetic feature. If you have green eyes, you just have them and that’s the way it is. I have this thing that I can do and that’s the end of it; I don’t question it or flaunt it or advertise it or talk about it unless I’m asked, but it’s there; always a part of me and always will be.

Since this encounter I’ve had regular communication with many of those who’ve passed on from my grandmother, who is truly with me at all times, to my husband’s relatives. I am also in constant communication with the Creator and I make sure I take time to thank Him and to commune with him. I also have a direct like to what I call, spirit guides (the Christian faith calls them angels). They help me and guide me and teach me; they comfort me when I’m sad and they help me stay focused when I need to. An entirely new world opened to me when I decided to change my life and walk down a positive path and I don’t regret one decision I’ve made in this new life.

When this happened to me, I rewrote my book. The Fine Line took on a more opened-minded approach to solving spiritual problems and confronting spiritual battles.  In fact the still small voice made if very clear that in order for my book to be published I would have to change the content. So, I did and I let the Divine take over. In the early summer, my book was on the desk of a very popular publisher and I thought for sure they were going to publish it, but they said it was “too inspirational” and things like that didn’t sell well. I had all but given but, but by early fall I found BookLocker and the book was published by January.

Please note that you do not have to agree with the way I see things. You can think I’m being mislead or misguided or lead by the devil, but honestly, I’m seeking out my own salvation and I encourage you to seek out yours. Just because mine looks a lot different that the rest doesn’t me its wrong. Who am I to judge anyone for who they believe? It’s not my right. I don’t need you to agree with me; I don’t need anyone to agree with me. I do know, nonetheless, that I have been lead to do the things I do and my legacy, I hope will be positive. This is my human experience and I am making the most of it.

Next week we’ll talk about how I came to leave Pike County Children Services and the encounters I had as a ghost-hunter as well as a more in depth look at how The Fine Line found its way to the public. Thanks for joining me this week!

Bumps In the Night: Part 3–My Own Tales of the Paranormal

Well, ladies and gentlemen, it’s Saturday once more.  You know what that means…  time to share!

By the time I was twenty-one I was getting married again and moving farther away from home.  I stayed with my husband on the weekends in Columbus, Ohio and then lived with my parents during the week.  I was in my senior year of college.  I married my second husband in February and by spring break the paranormal stuff started again.  It went on for a week straight before I told my husband what was happening.

Image

Age 21, 1998–Gatlinburg, TN

The first incident I remember is that I was sleeping on the couch in the living room of the condo where we were living.  The first encounter was a dream (again).  I saw an imp in the master bedroom closet.  If any of you aren’t familiar with an imp, it’s a demon.  It was standing in the corner of the closet, gray in color with tiny horns sticking out of it’s head.  In the dream, I opened the closet door and saw it.  Horrified, I woke up and realized my husband had already left for work.

Later that day, when I was hanging up clothing, I opened the closet door, hesitantly, but nothing as there.  When I stepped into the closet, I felt the temperature drop and knew I wasn’t alone.  I quickly hung up the clothing and went about my business, trying to rationalize everything.

After that, I didn’t like sleeping in the bed without him, so when he left for work, I started sleeping on the couch.  The second encounter was a dream, too.  I saw a tabby cat walking down the short hallway of the condo toward the bathroom.  When it reached the bathroom door, it transformed into a man; a thin man with no defining features.  When the man turned to look at me, I remember thinking, “How is this possible?”  The man opened the bathroom door and slammed it, which is what woke me up; the bathroom door was open when my husband left.  When I woke, it was shut.

The next morning, things got worse.  I lay on the couch asleep when the next thing I knew I felt like something was laying right on top of me.  I couldn’t move.  I couldn’t open my eyes.  I couldn’t speak.  I could barely breath.  My hearing was even impaired.  I was literally paralyzed.  Now, my first thought is that I might be having a seizure, even though I had no history of this.  What smashed this theory was the smell; I smelled sulfur and rot.  That’s the only way I know to describe it.

I tried to pray, but the words wouldn’t come.  I couldn’t do anything to defend myself.  Finally, I was able to get the beginning syllable of “Jesus” out of my mouth and was immediately released.  I opened my eyes to find nothing unusual.  I wondered if I could be losing my mind.  I was concerned that I was having some kind of mental breakdown.

Image

Age 21, 1998–Tennessee

A housekeeper came in daily to tidy up.  I spoke to her about everything that happened that week.  I remember how attentively she listened.  She was a beautiful African-American woman who I ended up forming a fleeting friendship with while I stayed in Columbus.  She encouraged me to tell my husband.  That night, I told him.  He didn’t judge me or think I was nuts.  In fact, because he was also a believer in demonic activity, he shared some things with me.  He explained that as a boy he woke up to dark figure at the end of his bed.  Even into early adulthood he was haunted by the figure.  I wondered if what was happening to me was directly related to him.

I sought prayer through my church and was anointed.  We also met with one of his friends who was very gifted spiritually.  However, he blamed me saying that it was likely attached to me because of something I must have done.  I didn’t care who was to blame, I just wanted it to stop.

Turns out these incidents were only the beginning of things to come.

Hope you enjoyed today’s post.  Please feel free to share 🙂  More to come next Saturday!

Bumps In the Night: Part 2–My Own Tales of the Paranormal

For some odd reason, this didn’t post correctly when I first posted it, so I’m doing it again.

Well it’s Saturday which means it’s time for another post about my own paranormal experiences.  It is really hard for me to blog during the week because of working full time and my mother/wife responsibilities.

Just a recap from Part 1, I lived in an old house that I believe was haunted.  Now we’re fast forwarding to the age of nineteen.  I married the first time (I’m on my third marriage–don’t judge me, we all make massive mistakes when we’re young LOL).  My husband and I moved into a rental.  It didn’t take long for me to feel uneasy.  At first I contributed it to the fact that it was the first time I’d really been away from home, I was alone a lot, and it was all very new to me.

165535_1671344917322_1610130_n

1996

The master bedroom was off of the kitchen.  Right beside the bed was the entrance to the bathroom.  In other words, I was able to lay my head down on the pillow and look right into the very small bathroom.

My husband left for work one morning.  I was half asleep and I heard the bathroom door, right beside my head, slam.  I thought he’d forgotten something, so I called out, “What’d you forget?”  I got no answer.  I thought that was odd, so I got up and opened the door to the bathroom.  My husband wasn’t in there.  I checked the entire house.  He was gone for work.  I was there by myself with doors slamming.  I contributed it to being half asleep and wrote it off as such.

The kitchen always made me feel very uneasy.  I got a dog (which I had to give back when my husband and I split up less than two months after we got married).  The dog would not go into the kitchen.  I sometimes sat in the living room and could hear pots and pans sliding around in the cabinets.  I assumed it was the house settling and that this caused things to shift inside the cabinets.

What really pushed me over the edge was I had a dream.  It was as vivid and as real to me as if I were awake.  I was standing in the bedroom that separated the living room from the master bedroom.  I watched as a figure, not a man nor a woman, wrote in blood on the wall.  I don’t remember that there was any significant phrase written in the blood, but when the figure turned to me, I felt pure evil.  It made me sick.  Then I hard a gun shot in the kitchen (in my dream) and walked into the kitchen and saw blood running from the walls.

I woke up and called my mom.  I told her everything that had happened.  She came immediately and brought anointing oil.  She prayed over the house.  Things calmed down.  I found out later that someone had committed suicide in the kitchen of that house.

After my first husband and I split up I went back to live with my parents and the dreams/visions once again stopped.  However, there was one night I was out riding around with a couple of friends and we ended up on some country road that was supposed to haunted.  I felt like something was literally sitting on the hood of the car.  I felt like I couldn’t catch my breath and I got sick at my stomach.  I remember knowing that we need to get off the road and we weren’t welcome there.

168240_1672150857470_6508112_n

1996

Looking back on it, I know that the dreams were my Creator’s way of telling me that something had happened in the house.  I always felt like something was watching me in the house.  In reality something probably was.  I believe it was the spirit of the person who killed themselves.  If I would have known then what I know now, I could have possibly helped them find peace, but I was young and was blinded by a lot of the fundamentalists beliefs that caused me to later become an atheist.  I am glad to say I am no longer an atheist, but we’ll get to all of that in future blogs.

Hope you enjoyed today’s share.  Again, I encourage you to share your stories and comment.   I know I’m not the only one that has experienced things.  In fact, if you are interested email me your experiences and I will compile them to share in a future blog.

Enjoy your Saturday everyone!

An Experiement

I am involved with a group in LinkedIn and this was suggested for a blog post. We were asked to pick five questions out of ten. I chose more than five, but I’ve been known to color within the lines. So here goes:

1) What is the title of your book? The Fine Line

2) How did you come by the idea? I have posted this in a previous blog, but just to give everyone a summation, I was living in Southwestern Ohio in 2008 and across the street was one of the oldest houses in the area. It was the most beautiful house I’d ever seen. It was on the Ohio Historical list. That house is where my idea for the book originally came from. I have a hidden fascination with the paranormal and have my own ghost hunting group. That’s where the sci-fi element came into play.

3) What genre does your book fall under? horror, sci-fi, fantasy, paranormal romance

4) Which actors would you choose to play your characters if it were a movie? Not sure who would play the female character (would want it to be a new actress to help start her career) in my book, but I would most certainly pick Robert Downey Jr. for the part of Matthew Gregory.

6) Will your book be self-published or traditional? My book was picked up by BookLocker.com. It is a self publisher, but in the same sense, it’s not. I’ve had to front very little money to get this project rolling. The only money I’ve come up with is the money to have the book converted into e-book form. The book is actually a print-on-demand book. I am a conservationist at heart and wanted to try to save trees. So if shelves are not stocked with books that no one wants, then some trees in some forest may get to remain standing.

10)What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest? Although the book seems like a horror film put on paper, it’s not. It has deep inspirational components in it showing how tragedy and adversity can always be overcome with faith, love, and a solid spiritual foundation, no matter what religious background is a focal point in your life. I want the audience to understand that it doesn’t matter what religion you are because it’s not up to anyone to judge your belief system. It’s a personal walk between you and your Creator. And by focusing on that walk, many heartbreaking and challenging things can be overcome in one’s life.