Everyone has their own path in this life. Be it right or wrong. I chose mine and my powerlessness evolved because i realized I am not God, I am a spirit that chose to walk my path laid out for me to learn from it, lessons, only to return into the light. I am a former angel as we all were, living a human life directed by God, my higher power and angels have been with me the entire time. These angels are family members who have died, to my guiding angel who I have seen twice, The Arch Angel Michael.
Here are some encounters I have had good and bad.
I am a beacon that shines like a bright light off a foggy north shoal, a lighthouse of sorts, guiding ships safely into port. What I was given as a gift, acts very much in the same way, only it is lighting the way for something else, spirits to come closer to deliver their message much as ship delivers its cargo.
As a child, I flew with other children who were angels. I walked among them, saw them after they had died, some from the early 1600‘s, 1700’s and 1800‘s in their death clothes laughing, playing, little boys with beret type hats on, suspenders holding their pants up, sleeves rolled up and barefoot, clutching fishing poles. They died while fishing, they ultimately drowned.
Little girls running with dolls in their hands, giggling, climbing the flower laden hill, with still other angel children playing with dolls. Some dressed in simple smocks, while others were dressed in the finest clothes that money could buy. Then swoosh, ducking, I saw overhead a number of them were flying, in single file, then coming together side by side. The little girl leading the flight in particular wore a puffy organza white dress down to her ankles, gathered into puffs at the upper arm, filled with glittering white light shining all over it, leading the way of the flight of other angels, darting up, swooping down. She had ringlets of golden white blonde hair, giant curls on top of her head pulled around in the back where it flew free. Her pink bow on top of her curls glistened in the golden light I was bathed in. The entire dream was in color, if that was what it was. I doubt it was a dream per say, but rather, a small glimpse of heaven from a child’s eye.
Truly I had died and gone to heaven and saw the children there. There were hundreds of them. All happy, all playing. There were small miniature houses built for them and they were flying in and out of them, through them. Some houses were pink, some were golden, some were snow white.
The faces are like a rolodex, flipping fast, and I can see them talking. Their voices are silent. Their mouths are moving but nothing is being heard. They are speaking their request to me, asking for closure. Women, men, all races, all ages.This roladex of unknown faces are moving as fast as a deck of cards being shuffled, all spirits wanting to find closure. Some nights I see hundreds. All different, but all are dead. Their lips are moving but I am not hearing anything because I am not supposed to. When I come across a loved one, the rolodex face shows up, and the request is made to be known.
When i am in the presence of an unknown spirit, I know it immediately. A sixth sense, no, it is actually knowing they are there. My body erupts in bone cold chills as though I am standing in a European winter. Not always though. There are times when they are behind me, in front of me and I have to ask them to step aside. I can’t be bothered because I have other jobs to do. It’s not that I want to ignore them but if I never met the person who is seeking closure or needs it, I can’t honor the spirits request until that person is made known.
Then there is the person on this side who needs to find answers. Why was their loved one and not them taken? They are suffering a terrible loss. Their grief is unbearable. How do you find comfort in a world that doesn’t understand the other side? That’s where I come in. Are they in a good place? Are they still with them? The answer is yes, they are still with them, daily. They just leave this earthly body, a vessel given to them to learn lessons before re-entering back into God’s white light. We are here to learn, not to get ahead of each other but to learn, from our past mistakes, to rectify any wrongs we did while alive, to make another persons life enriched. That is our purpose here on Earth. To love and to help others.
I always had the feeling of being watched, literally, and not by one but by hundreds
I walk among angels.I still do. They watch my every move and are there to protect me when faced with danger.
HELLS ANGELS ON EARTH
He appeared with red eyes, roughly about my height, wearing dread’s on top of his head staring at me at 1 am in the morning, in the train station. It was pitch black outside, and his intent was not to say hi but to cause harm. WIthin seconds, as he walked around me looking at me and then his eyes met mine, he backed away. There was some force that made him back away. I immediately felt protected. I felt as though I was surrounded by 12 warriors a shield so strong that not even 100’s of these demons could break or tear down. A band of angels stood around me and he knew it, he saw it and he ran. I felt them surround me. Shield me. No harm could come to me.
THEY ARE WATCHING ME
I was being escorted by a driver in a very dangerous place, too dangerous to walk, especially if you were a woman. To make matters worse, I was not entirely sure that this person sent to escort me to a store could protect me if anything happened rather, I knew I could help myself but to the extent of several people jumping us, I knew I would not make it out alive or if I did, it would be in pieces.
Then it happened. The white hair, his red eyes crossed, spikey knotted dreads covering his head with an extremely white face. His gums were pink when he smiled with crooked greyish yellow teeth and he stood in the middle of the street with very busy oncoming traffic in both directions, just staring at me. He just stopped dead in his tracks, and a bone cold chill went up my spine. I knew he was evil from the time I saw him. I watched him intently, and stopped falling behind my escort which was a dangerous thing to do. I just looked at him. He was trying to reach me, through the traffic. I was not afraid in the least. It was as if we had a contest on who could stare the longest at each other. Then his face contorted into a shape that was not natural. His face was overcome by a Cheshire grin. I knew I was looking at a fallen angel, someone from the depths of hell. I do not believe that this was in deed a person but an evil entity. I was not in the least going to back down. I never did. Instead he stopped. Just stopped. Then he was gone.
I have seen both sides..I have nothing left to fear if I am an honest loving person.
I am powerless over my own life. I am not in control. Once I realized this, it gets easier, simpler. Material items don’t matter anymore. The art of giving, the gift of it, to be able to give without wanting anything in return is what God wants us to do. To be able to love and give it away in acts of kindness for others,
Powerlessness doesn’t feel so good does it? It’s a feeling that can send a wave of fear into our bones. What will be the outcome? What do you mean we don’t have control or power over others, especially the ones we seem to love? We raised our children in the way we thought that was in our own minds, the right way, the right way to do things, treat people or how to live, based on our moral and ethical values we were introduced to but that doesn’t mean we need impose our power over others, only share our knowledge. Power and knowledge need not impose its sanctions onto each other but rather live apart. You may have the power to impact a life or the knowledge to share to effect change but never should the two interact because when they do, they can cause chaos, conflict, and ultimately powerlessness the inflictor will feel which leads to feelings of despair, and deep seated feelings of anger and resentment that we put upon ourselves.