Archive for the 'Angels' Category

Feeling very beaten up these days by Life and after the decades of wrenching I have endured, I had been feeling very much like taking to my bed, pulling the covers over my head, and sleeping for an eternity. Occasionally, I have actually tried to do this, with amusing results which indicate clearly that my mission is not to explore the insides of my eyelids, but to be awake and functioning.

In regard to the state of sleep, I have often tried to squeeze in some extra zzzzz time, to no avail. I have awakened, then attempt to sleep longer. After just a few moments, the sound of an actual alarm clock has gone off, usually up and to my left, so loud that I jump out of bed in a rush. “Ah, Angels,” I think, as I realize that I don’t even own an alarm clock. Then there is nothing for it but to get up and face that day. Another favorite sound for my Angels is the blare of the telephone, which rings loudly in my ear, usually up and to my left. Leaping out of bed I realize that no telephone is ringing in the real world, so again, I’m up and prepare to face the day. Sometimes I hear my name called, loudly, once, and with great effect. To this too, I leap up as if stung by yellow jackets only to find that I am all alone with my current mission, which won’t get done if I am lying like a lump in bed. More’s the pity….. For those times when nothing else seems to do the trick, the sound of a cannon going off guarantees results every time. Never mind leaping. This catapults me out of bed, and I get the message totally. You! Up! Now! Inventive little creatures aren’t they, those Angels?

Meditation has become a favorite time for me. A state unlike sleep and even more satisfying and relaxing, I have become reluctant to leave it, even when I am hovering over my body—especially at that time. I have found myself attempting to stay in the meditative state when it is clearly time to be up and at ‘em. If I persist in trying to stay in meditation, I have heard the most exquisite and lovely of chimes, tinkling and bonging just up and to my left. For some reason, I respond to this dutifully, returning to my body and getting on with my life.

These experiences beg several questions: why is it so important for me to be awake when I am usually alone in my house? What is so terribly important that I must be awake NOW and not a moment later? Is my pathetic little life so vital to the function of this earthly plane that Angels would go to this kind of trouble to awaken me? And why are the sounds so different, depending on whether I am in the sleep state or in meditation?

For now, my conclusions are few. Apparently, each one of us has some vital function in our own circles which relies on our being awake and either interacting with others in our vicinity, or, in my case, the work that I am doing in solitude, not the least of which is continuing these posts, dear Readers. As inconsequential as each of us might regard herself, despite not being in the news or in the gossip columns, each one of us is important in the universal scheme of things, while we are alive and breathing on this earth. Life can beat us down, but we are still important! So important that Angels send forth trumpets, cannons, chimes, alarm clocks, and telephones just to get our attention so that we will continue with our mission. Let us accept, then, the gentle urging of our Angels and continue with our own very important private Heavenly mission.

My friend, Nancy, has a mother, Zelda, who is ill with a terminal condition. Nancy has brought Zelda to her home and is taking care of her there. Due to this terminal disease, Zelda has bouts of memory lapse and strange behaviors, which Nancy indulges within reason. One of these is that Zelda likes to sleep on the couch in the enclosed porch, so Nancy has made her an alternative bed there.

One night, Nancy had lain down to sleep. Sleep would not come, however, because she kept hearing odd noises coming from the enclosed porch and kept seeing a vision of the glass-topped coffee table that stood in front of the couch. Try as she might, Nancy could not dismiss this image from her mind. Sighing, she got up to see what was going on.

Quietly opening the door to the porch, Nancy was aghast to see her mother on all fours smack atop the glass-covered coffee table! She stood there in shock, thinking how her husband had just had the top repaired because of a crack, wondering how on earth her mother had managed to get on top of the table, and wondering just how she could extract her mother from the table without breaking the glass again. For the problem was that the glass would surely break if Zelda were to put uneven weight on the glass, as she must if she were to get herself off the top of the table. Without a second thought, Nancy hurried to the table, put her arms around her mother’s chest, lifted up, and stood there for a second, expecting her mother to help with the extrication.

As Nancy lifted Zelda up into the air, she was expecting her mother to put out a foot onto the floor, or an arm to steady herself and aid in the extrication process, neither of which her mother did. Instead, Zelda had curled up her arms and legs, tucking them up against her body. “Ma! You’ve got to help me get you down!” cried Nancy, but Zelda just held her pose. In the next instant, Nancy found herself gently easing Zelda onto the floor, completely unharmed, with the glass still intact on top of the coffee table.

As Nancy calmly told this story, I just sat, open-mouthed.
“Do you know that you’ve just had Heavenly help in getting your mother off that coffee table?” I asked, awestruck.
“Yeah, I could feel it,” replied Nancy.
“Doesn’t this seem strange to you?” I asked, still awestruck.
“No,” replied Nancy. “I just expect it. They’re around all the time. It’s just part of life.”

I sat back, speechless. On questioning Nancy closely, she has these kinds of experiences often and takes them as a matter of course (doesn’t everyone have their own private Angel for just such occasions?) and expects that help will be available whenever and wherever she needs it. While I sat there, impressed down to my toenails, Nancy just treated this episode as a normal facet of life.

Be that as it may, I extracted every ounce of information from Nancy that she was willing to give, just to have the information complete so I could pass it along to you, dear Readers. We even walked into the porch to look at the physical setting. On doing so, I was even more impressed at how Nancy was able to accomplish getting her mother off the coffee table in the manner she had described, because after looking at the physical setting, there was no earthly way that Nancy would have either the strength or the leverage to accomplish what she had done without otherworldly help. Allow me to set the scene:

The enclosed porch is attached to the back of the house, runs its entire length, and is connected to the main house by two glass doors. Three sides of the porch are windows, covered by vertical blinds. It houses lounge furniture and the immense glass-topped coffee table. This table is approximately three feet wide by three feet deep and 2 ½ feet high, made of a bamboo-like material. The entire top is glass. It is situated in front of the couch; along one side is another stuffed arm chair. There is only approximately 1 ½ feet of space between the couch and the coffee table, so there is not much room for anything except feet. If a short person were to stand next to the coffee table, the top of it would come to mid-thigh. If that short person were to bend over the coffee table, her arms would not reach the far end, and she would not have enough leverage to lift anything long and heavy off the table top. As both Nancy and I are short (5’ 3”), I could immediately see that what Nancy had done—lift her mother off the coffee table without help and without cracking the table top–was totally impossible.

First of all, Zelda is not light. She is a sturdily built woman, who weighs approximately 150-160 lbs. That alone would preclude Nancy’s being able to lift Zelda off the table without help. Then, Zelda did not cooperate in getting off the table, but only just curled herself up into a ball when Nancy picked her straight up off the table. Picking Zelda straight up off the table was impossible both because of Zelda’s weight and the very important fact that Nancy would not have been able to get enough leverage to do so, since Nancy is so short in relation to height of the coffee table. Perhaps a strong, young man 6 feet tall or greater and weighing 250 lbs. could have lifted Zelda straight up and over, but not Nancy. Yet Nancy had done it, and she was not even out of breath. Lastly, there is the issue of setting the woman down safely after having lifted her off the table. Having lifted her mother up and over, Nancy would now be faced with setting her mother down onto the floor without hurting her. Remember that Zelda weighs approx. 150 lbs. That, coupled with gravity (F=ma for you physics fans), gives a great force downward that must be retarded in order for Zelda not to fall on her head with a thump. Nancy, with her small size, does not have the strength to retard that much force without endangering her mother’s well-being, yet it was accomplished. Her mother did not fall, did not hit her head, just gently came to earth.

One more point bears stressing: that of the tiny space between the couch and the coffee table. Even if Nancy had had some superhuman burst of strength and power to lift her mother off the coffee table by herself and set her down safely, there was not enough space in which to accomplish this incredible feat. Yet, Zelda was extracted from off the top of the glass coffee table by her short daughter without stirring a hair of her head. Wow. Just wow. This, dear Readers, is what your Angels wish you to remember: that help is available to you at all times, free for the asking. Just ask, expect, believe, and voila! Mission accomplished.

Happy Easter, Happy Spring, Happy New Year to all my dear Readers. Today is truly a red-letter day, as your Angels have blessed me with a wondrous dream, which I am to share with you as the Earth awakens in the brightening sun.

Things started innocuously enough. As I lay sleeping in the early morning, I was suddenly alert to an odd scene that appeared before my eyes. I was standing on the west bank, the Buda side, of the Danube river as it flowed through Budapest, the capital of Hungary. My father stood a little diagonally to my right, his back to me, looking over the river, toward the east bank, toward Pest. He was watching the progress of my sister, Zsuzsanna, as she was gently floating on the surface of the water. What was unusual about this entire scene was that she was lying on her back in the water as my father directed her toward the far shore, and she was moving purely by the power of thought. As my father told her what he wanted from her and in what direction to float on the river, she was propelling herself solely by her own thoughts, in order to follow his directions. In watching this scene, I was of course not in the least surprised at what was going on, accepting all that I saw as a matter of course. As I stood on the riverbank watching Zsuzsanna’s progression across the river, suddenly a Presence made itself felt.

Before writing about the Presence, I am guided to tell you in detail all the impressions that I received from it and to set the scene specifically, all the better for you to picture it, my dear Readers. The Danube runs north/south through the portion of Budapest that contains the Parliament Building, a confection of architecture located on the Pest (east) side of the river (this building is worth a trip to www.google.com). The city of Buda lies on the west side of the river; the city of Pest on the east side, hence Budapest. I was standing on the grassy west bank as it sloped down to the water, so I was facing east, with the light behind me, although it was a cloudy day. My father was also standing on the west bank, southeast of me and nearly at the water’s edge, looking across the water, as Zsuzsanna neared the eastern shore.

I could feel the Presence in a northeasterly direction from us, up in the air, invisible in the cloudy, gray sky. This Presence was definitely otherwordly, angelic, female (!), and radiating energy, lots of energy, although I neither saw nor felt any Light. My impression of it was that it was kindly, nurturing, present in an educational capacity, showing me a scene, and then using both the scene and my thoughts about it to delicately guide my interpretations toward what was to become an extremely important conclusion.

As Zsuzsanna’s feet touched the bank, the Presence transmitted the thought to me that Zsuzsanna was doing this bit of water floating out of gratitude to our father for having helped her out so much in her life. Also out of gratitude, she had chosen to dedicate the remainder of her own life to being with him and serving him in whatever capacity he required, putting all her own needs aside and trusting him to whatever he asked of her. That was why she had willingly obeyed him when he had her drift across the water. Absorbing this bit of information from the Presence (and having no idea what all of that information meant), I once again became engrossed in the scene of Zsuzsanna floating along the water’s surface, ignoring the Presence and concentrating on the scene in front of me. It seemed that Zsuzsanna’s motion in the water was by her own power, but the scientist and observer in me wished to test this hypothesis. Toward this end, I suggested an experiment to my father.

“Let’s bring her across the river into the shallower part and ask her to just float in the water. The shallow part will be better, so if she sinks, we can rescue her and she won’t drown.” I suggested this experiment to my father to see whether Zsuzsanna was really propelling herself around the river and floating purely via her own thought power. He agreed to the experiment, especially to being careful not to hurt her. While we were pondering on how to proceed with this idea, my mind was turning, with the gentle guidance and aid of the Presence. I reasoned that Zsuzsanna must be floating across the water solely on the power of her own thought. My father had given the request, and she had fulfilled it by launching herself out onto the water on her back and propelling herself across the water without any physical means. Now, we were going to have her return across the river toward a shallower portion and see what she could do. I contemplated having her float not on top of the water, but above the water. As I pictured her being able to do that, suddenly the insight came to me (with obvious guidance from the Presence) what exactly is occurring when we pray. When we pray, we usually picture a powerful presence outside of ourselves who, if we can be convincing enough, will grant us our wishes. This presence is rather like a genii in a lamp, infinitely powerful, the keeper and distributor of all the goodies we can imagine, if we can only persuade him/her/it to look our way. If we have had a Christian religious upbringing, we usually picture this outside presence as an old man with a white beard (in the image and likeness of an elderly Jewish rabbi), a little touchy, but amenable with enough flattery or bribery: “I’ll be good if you’ll only give me a new car”, you pray, or “I won’t pick on my brother for a year if you just help me pass this test”, and so on. The point is that we focus on a force outside ourselves who can grant us our wishes and desires.

As these images rolled through my mind, I realized in a flash that the purpose of prayer was not to persuade an external supernatural being to take on our cause, but to convince ourselves that we are capable of manifesting our wishes in our lives and giving ourselves permission to manifest our wishes. Since we constantly create our individual universes with every decision we make, we, not some powerful external source, are the ones who manifest (or not) our wishes and desires. Prayer, then, is a way of “softening up” our own innate lack of self-confidence in being able to manifest our wishes.

Have you ever noticed that you receive some things more quickly through prayer, other things seem to take longer, while some things do not manifest at all, no matter how much or how long you pray? Now, at last, we can understand just why these seeming blocks occur.

That which we believe we can achieve is manifested the most quickly, because at some level we know that we are able to manifest them without any difficulty whatsoever. As an example, I know (truly believe) that I can very quickly find items that I have lost, if they are “findable” (not discarded or destroyed). So, when I pray to my Angels to find that doomaflotchy that I lost yesterday, I already expect it to turn up, and it always turns up in amazing short order. Each time, though, I am amazed and thank my Angels profusely for returning it to me. Yet in truth, it was my own knowledge (belief) and expectation that resulted in finding the lost item. In believing and expecting, I kept myself open to the idea of finding the lost article and find it I did. If I had not believed or expected, the article would still be lost, no matter how long I prayed to my Angels, because I would have put myself into a state that did not allow receipt of the lost object. When we neither believe nor expect, no amount of prayer can penetrate that state of non-reception.

That which we have some trouble believing we can receive manifests more slowly, because now we must take time to convince ourselves that we are able to manifest, or that we are deserving of this particular manifestation. Sometimes we have real and long-standing areas in which we have blockages or complete lack of self-confidence, so it can take a very long time before we can believe in their manifestation in our lives. Sometimes we cannot even make ourselves believe that these wishes of ours will ever happen. It is then that prayer seems to become useless. It is not that “God” or the Universe has turned a deaf ear to us. It is that we simply do not or cannot believe that we can/should/will ever have this wish. At these times, prayer seems useless, or that “God” or the Universe has decided not to grant us our wish, when it is only our own fears or other blocks that are in the way of manifestation.

Every minute of every day we create our individual lives based on our beliefs and expectations. Now that you know the true purpose of prayer, use it to soften up your beliefs so that you can begin to manifest the abundance that is your birthright.

The Presence leaves these messages of hope for you:

You will see it when you believe it.
“Therefore I say to you, all things for which you pray and ask, believe that you have received them and they shall be granted to you” (Mark 12:24)
“Prayer changes things” Edgar Cayce

Hello, dear Readers. On this day after Thanksgiving, I wish to share with you a story that started out in disaster and ended in gratitude, with much to be thankful for.

About a month ago, the Northeast was inundated with a snowstorm such as has not been seen in quite some time. It left nearly 31 inches of wet, sticky snow in some areas, felled trees, knocked out power lines, and gave some of a real run for our money, as we waited for 5 days, or more, for the power to came back on.

The story: I left work that night at 11:30 pm with high hopes that I would be able to beat the storm and arrive safely at home, 25 miles away from where I work. Although my Angels had been nudging me to have my snow tires put on before the end of October, I resisted, thinking that snow doesn’t usually fall much before the first days of December. So, no snow tires. And without snow tires, my car acts like it’s on a greased griddle when there’s so much as one flake on the road. With this handicap, I set off into the hills of central Massachusetts.

The going was terrible. It being a Saturday, no snow plows were out. I made it out of the city by the skin of my teeth, shouting at my Angels at each and every hill to help me get up them. Several cars and trucks tailgated me until I slid across the road, then, they all stayed far behind me, so I was not in danger of hitting them. By sheer will and adrenalin, I made it to within ten miles of where I live. Here, several police cars blocked the road. The police were waiting for the highway crews to cut through the trees that had fallen across the country road, so we waited while they cut. In speaking to the officers, they told me that going to my town would be “pretty rough” and that I would have been better staying in the city where I work. Argh! I couldn’t turn around because I’d never get back up those hills again, with the snow falling the way it was. There was nothing for it, but to forge ahead.

Forge ahead I did, taking all the roads that ran around the big hills. Then, I came to another stop. This time it was a pick-up truck in the road. I hopped out of the car and ran to see what was up. It was a tree, right across the road. So didn’t the driver jump out of his truck, take a chainsaw out of the truck bed, and proceed to cut up that tree! At this point, I began to see a pattern. As the man cut, I dragged branches off the road until it was cleared enough for one lane trafflic. By this time, there was a respectable line behind us, and don’t you know, my car started to spin because of not having snow tires. Several people behind me helped push my car back onto the road and we all went ahead until the next tree stopped us. This was no one-man, one-chainsaw tree. But, as luck would have it, the highway department guys were on the other side of that tree with BIG chainsaws and sawed us out in good time. Most of the cars were stopping in that town, but I still had ten miles to go. No one was hopeful, but they wished me luck.

With adroit maneuvering and hollering at my Angels, I made it to the base of the 2 1/2-mile tall hill that separated me from Home Sweet Home. First, I tried a side road around the hill, but the little incline was too much for my snow tireless car and I ended up sideways across the road. Again, with some kind of luck, I was able to turn around and head back to the tremendous hill. Gamely, I went for it. I made it around the U-curve and headed up, only to become stuck in a snowbank on a curve. Any car or snow plow coming by would not see me and just wipe out my car, so it was obvious that I couldn’t stay in it.

What to do? My intention was to leave the car there and walk up the 2 1/2 miles to my house in the raging snowstorm–this is what adrenalin can do for you. It gives you all kinds of superhuman strength, but not a lot of common sense. My iPhone was in my purse, and although I get no signal at the top of the hill, for some reason the bottom of the hill gave me 5 bars. Accessing the internet (thank you, Angels!), I googled the police dispatch phone number for my town and requested permission to leave my car where it was. Permission was denied, but they sent out an SUV with beautiful snow tires to help me out. The officer first tried to push my car out of the snow bank, but no go. He then called a tow truck that pulled me out, so all I had to do was back down the rest of the hill in the blinding snow to the parking lot at the bottom. Needless to say, I got stuck several times and had lots of trouble getting out, but finally made it to the parking lot. The police allowed me to park my car and they took me home.

When we reached my driveway, I realized that even if I had made it up that hill (which was impossible), I would not have been able to drive into my driveway because of the two feet of snow blocking it. The nice policeman walked with me to my door, made certain that I was safely in the house, then left. Although there was no snow inside my house, neither was there any electricity. That meant no lights, no heat, and no water. The temperature was 45 degrees inside, but at least there was no snow. While the storm raged outside, I was cuddled up under 15,000 blankets, thanking my lucky stars that I had made it home in one piece. What usually took 45 minutes, had taken 3 1/2 hours and all of the adrenalin I had stored for the next year.

So why is this story post-worthy? It is not a universal whine or even a “why me?” tale. After going over the events in my mind, I was aghast at all of the many places where divine intervention had mitigated a disastrous situation. First of all, so many people were on the road at that hour. Usually, I run into nearly no one at that hour of the night, but everywhere I turned, it seemed to be wall-to-wall people. Secondly, even though my car had no snow tires, I was able to go up hills that should have been impossible obstacles. Thirdly, wherever trees had fallen onto the road, someone with a chainsaw was present to cut a path. Even around here, people don’t usually have chainsaws in the backs of their pickup trucks, yet here was a lone driver who had his chainsaw, and he was there to help me. And when that really BIG tree was across the road, no less than the Highway Department (!) with BIG chain saws was on the other side, cutting a path on the road. Amazing. Fourthly, so many kind people were available to push me out of one snow bank and get me going. Fifthly, all alone at the bottom of that huge hill, with my car stuck in a snow bank, I was able to access the internet in my cell phone and summon help! Lastly, the kind, helpful policemen and one tow-truck saved my car and my bacon, because, looking back, I would never have been able to make it up that hill on foot. They would have found my lifeless body in the spring, frozen in a snow bank.

This kind of amazing heavenly supervision goes on all the time for each and every one of us. Of course, this kind of help also begs the question: why do we have to go through these kinds of experiences—but that is a post for another time. Suffice it to say that truly each hair on your head is counted by all of the Angels in heaven, who care for you as no other. Look around at your own lives, my dear Readers, to discover all the ways in which your own Angels care for you.

Have you ever lost your keys/cell phone/nail clippers/mind and looked everywhere for them to no avail? Then you found them at a later time in a spot that you had previously searched? This uncanny experience happened to me just recently and it was so unusual that I must report it to you, dear Readers.

Several months ago, I used my nail clippers in the car on the way to work. They were in a particular pocket in my purse. I found them, used them, and put them back in that same pocket. A few days later, I needed them again and looked for them in their particular pocket. No clippers. I searched in every pocket of that purse. No clippers. That seemed very odd because I was so certain that I had returned them as I have described to you. I thought no more about it until the next time that I needed them on the road. Once again, I could not find them.

On arriving home, instead of just feeling with my hand, I turned each and every pocket of that purse inside-out and there was not a nail clipper to be found. I would have sworn on a stack of bibles that I was 100% confident that no nail clippers existed in my purse. By now, the clippers had been gone for several months and this was most inconvenient at times. Occasionally, I briefly lamented their loss and wondered where they could have gotten to. It seemed most strange, particularly since I knew that I had returned them to my purse.

One day, a few weeks ago, I came down to the kitchen, saw my purse sitting in its place and wondered idly whether my clippers had shown up yet. Walking over to the purse, I put my hand into the particular pocket that was the home for the nail clippers. I wasn’t even surprised when they popped right into my hand. So, after several months of absence, reality had shifted and my nail clippers came back.

This interesting experience helped me recall a previous similar one that occurred almost fifteen years ago with my car keys and a different purse. There, too, the keys had been in the purse and just a few minutes later, were nowhere to be found. I turned that purse inside out, too, to no avail. Beside myself, I called on my Angels. After another few minutes, I put my hand into my purse and the car keys fell right into them.

Several interesting ideas have come out of these experiences. Why, for example, was my idle thought connected with the idea of my nail clippers “returning” rather than of “being found”? My idle thought was most specific: I looked at the purse with a slightly bemused smile on my face and thought to myself, as I pictured the clippers, “I wonder if they’ve come back yet?” Then, on a whim, I put my hand into the purse and came up with the clippers. Perhaps my Angels are instructing me in other facets of what we call “reality” to help me understand it better. Perhaps when things are “lost”, they are not truly lost in the sense of having changed position, rather that they are in the same position as before, but the space around them has shifted so that they are not accessible. Once the space has shifted into our reality again, then we have access to them again. What exactly is occurring with this movement into and out of our reality is unclear and I invite any of my Readers to enlight us.

The other interesting idea here is that things can return without directly asking for Angelic help in finding the “lost” object. With these nail clippers, I had never asked for Angelic aid—very uncharacteristic of me because I am all about asking your Angels for help. Even though I had needed those clippers for several months, somehow I was never inspired to ask for help in locating them. Part of my latest Angelic instruction may be learning to regard reality differently and I needed direct experience to bring the message home. Whatever the Angels are trying to teach us, having my nail clippers return in this manner was an interesting and educational surprise.