“What Michael Looks Like”

I had passed out. It was January 2001. All I remember about the incident was that I came too sitting in a chair with people around me. What I saw when I passed out, was a golden light, sort of like an encompassing tunnel but a tremendous golden light in front of me. It seemed closer than what it was. It was brighter than looking at the sun but it emitted an all loving feeling.

So i decided to head towards the light. It was as if I was floating. For a brief moment, I realized, that this light was not from the sun but of our Heavenly Father,  God. Simply, I asked, “God? is that you?” and I heard a resounding yes. I remember smiling because it was an all knowing feeling I had and that he had answered me. Deep, the voice was deep and it sounded as if he was on a microphone, but my lips never opened to ask the question.

Then out of the clear blue came this bronzed  all over, golden in color angel wearing a short sleeved, roman tunic that came down to his thighs with ropes around the waist. He had outstretched wings, and I could see the tendons in them. They spanned greater than what appeared to be ten feet wide. I was that close. His eyes locked with mine and they were pitch black, full of compassion yet determination. The distance between us was no more than a couple of feet. There was a purpose to his visit. When I looked into his eyes,  I heard the name Michael. Never did I know that there was an angel named Michael. Apparantly,  I missed that bible school lesson.

I looked behind him, into the golden light and I tried to go around him but He wouldn’t let me. He was floating right at my level. First on the right hand side and then on the left hand side of me. The realization was fruitless in trying to sneak my way into the kingdom. There was a reason I was not allowed. It was not my time.

What I will never forget is his appearance, the black hair that had curls all over but appeared bronzed, to his muscles, his wings with tendons to his piercing black eyes. He was dressed like a gladiator but without the helmet, and shield. I suppose he didn’t need that with me figuring I was a lost wayward soul whose time had not come and he was there to turn me away back into the life I had. The bronzed angel stayed on the left hand side of God for my brief visit. I will never forget what I saw. But why Michael and why me? This I won’t know now, not until it is my time.

The second time I saw him, he was standing at the opening of a cave looking out into a lush hillside,  like an eternal garden filled with flowers. What struck me was the cave. It was not a house per say as we know it by todays standards but a home with a round opening like a cave. I was withered, old, grey hair, wrinkled body  wearing a robe with a hood and he held out his hand. Both of us were standing inside the warm cave. Slipping my hand into his, my outer skin with its looks fell to the floor and a beautiful young auburn haired woman stepped out of the empty shell. (I naturally have auburn hair).

This experience made me want to find pictures of the Arch Angel to see if what I saw was real or a dream.

On a visit to Fairfield Auction house in CT several years following my spiritual experience, with my now ex husband, I saw a statue from across the room and I immediately knew who it was of. I ran up to it. My face looking as though it had seen a ghost.  It was the same angel I had seen, Michael. No one had to tell me who it was, I innately knew deep within that this was the same angel that found my wayward soul and turned it back. I also came across another artist who had seen the Arch Angel Michael and sketched what she had seen and my heart stopped when I saw the rendering.  It was indeed the exact same face as what I had seen. There stood my proof that I without a doubt had seen Michael,  not once but twice in my life with a foreshadowing of events to come but apparantly with a great ending..

We tried to buy that sculpture that day at Fairfield but it was too pricey. I realize I don’t need a sculpture to tell me or remind me of what I had witnessed. He will be with me for the rest of my natural life. Maybe I will see him again before that event.

 

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Better Late Than Never

He had heard about me from my hairdresser. So he became my friend on a social media site. That was it. He never sent me a message or contacted me. I think he wanted to. He never did.  Actually I sent him one. As soon as I saw his picture, his old partner came through and he wanted me to contact him because he had something to say.

So I did

If I contact someone it is to deliver a message from spirit. This spirit was his former partner who took his life. He had to get his message known. So I persisted and we agreed to meet. I am sure when a medium contacts you, there might be hesitation to find out what they want to tell you. He was very open to it which made the process better. I somehow ended up in the wrong location and spirit was there hanging onto my shoulder the entire way, nervous that his ex partner was about to show up. Eventually I made it to the right location. It was a very eclectic, diverse and very popular place on a weekends. It was the first time I saw a cat in a stroller and loving it. Usually you see a smaller dog being pushed in a baby stroller, certainly not a cat.

You might ask, well, if the living have grief, and gotten over it, maybe the dead can too. Even if the living human has gone through the grieving process and forgiven the suicide victim, it is not over for the suicide victim themselves. They are still trying to come to terms with what they did, why they did it and to find closure, most want to say they are sorry, the biggest word is sorry. Some dont want to let go, others will remain in a grey area because they can’t forgive themselves but most are in the light upon death. They don’t go to hell unless they are extremely bad people in life. He was still around, still hanging around.

So we three sat down, me and two men. One was the new partner. Of course spirit was not happy that he was there but he knew he was dead and couldn’t do anything about it and just wanted his old partner happy. He just wanted happiness for him. I told him I was shown pills and a rope. This was how the suicide victim took his own life.

Burial plans were discussed and I suggested that they follow his wishes. Keeping his remains was not an option but perhaps granting what he wanted with maybe a second option to appease the living was the answer.

All in all, the suicide victim was happy in that he could now move on, and go into the light knowing that he said what he wanted to say, and that was a simple but heart felt sorry and to grant forgiveness and receive it. Better late than never I say.