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Walk In Faith As You Move Forward
“For we live by faith, not by sight.” I have relied on the words of this verse from 2 Corinthians for most of my life with much success, no matter how tough times have been.
What does it mean to walk in faith, and not by sight? Well, it means to keep going and to keep your faith in God, Spirit, a Higher Power, even when you are not sure of where exactly you are headed.
This past year these words could not have been more relevant. It has been very difficult for all of us, especially for those who have lost loved ones. Sadly, in our day and age, when a loved one passes, we don’t always get the support we need in order to get through the loss and get the help we need to move forward.
Processing grief on your own is no easy task. First we have to accept that our loved one is not with us in the physical sense anymore, but their soul is always with us. They will tell us that they are still here, but they do not want us to have an unhappy life, they don’t want us to be alone.
In our soul contract one of us agrees to leave before the other, whether it is a parent, husband, wife, child, sibling, whomever it may be, and that the one left behind would be experiencing what it means to endure such a loss.
As we struggle to move forward, people might say, why aren’t you feeling better yet? Time to get over it. Life goes on. Why are you still so sad? Well, it just doesn’t work that way, and anyone who has experienced such a loss understands that it takes a lot of time for the heart to truly heal.
I lost my husband of 31 years a long time ago. You don’t ever get over it completely, but it does get easier with time. It’s a step-by-step process, and having people that support you means so much to help you get through.
A Morning Visitation From My Ancestors
Some of the best times I had growing up was visiting my great grandparents during the summer holidays. It was not only fun, but also spiritual and magical. It really helped me to connect with the higher powers that be.
My great grandma was a very magical woman. Her mother was a psychic who would dream the winning lottery numbers for people. She was known as a wise intuitive and many people were jealous of her for many reasons. Legend has it that she used to make wine for Italian mobsters and even had the infamous Al Capone visit her home a few times. She was a happy little Italian lady, who always did everything and everything she could for her kids.
My great grandfather came over from Italy and he was a very stern, powerful man who only spoke Italian. He also made wine and he was much older than my grandma. I think there was a 20-year age difference.
Often, while talking to my great grandma, the lights would begin to flicker in the house and my grandpa, who was an electrician by trade, would then tell me that spirit connects with us through electricity. I thought it was cool and would try to make contact with my ancestors when I was alone.
Grandpa also promised me that when he died, he would come back to visit me. And he did. I shared that whole experience in a previous blog.
Earlier today, during my daily spiritual practice my great grandparents, as well as my grandparents all came to visit me again. We remain interconnected to this day. It is so great to be able to have these mediumship experiences. I saw their faces, surrounded by a pure white light. I could feel the blissful warmth of their love.
Work Through The Fear, Obligation And Guilt (FOG)
Reflecting on my life I have found how many of my early life experiences have subconsciously influenced me, mostly due to a lack of awareness that allowed fear, a sense of obligation and guilt to remain hidden.
These hidden influences mostly come from my formative years and became obstacles I had to repeatedly struggle with in my adult life with regards relationships, career, finances, family and community.
Once I discovered these non-empowering beliefs, it was time for me to get out of the FOG (Fear, Obligation, Guilt). In hindsight, several things I was unaware of in my family’s dynamics, were actually ‘seeds’ hidden beneath the surface that in time sprouted into personal challenges and self-sabotage.
Fear
Fear and insecurity are frequent visitors for many of us in all areas of life. I was constantly focused on the negative and worst-case scenarios. This is because our brain is wired this way for the purpose of survival. Much of it also depends on our upbringing. So, we must recognize this and catch ourselves early on, in order to shift our thoughts and emotions in a positive direction.
We must be cognitive of our behaviors and explore where in our life we have learned these negative, fear-based responses. Fear is a natural part of life, but can easily become a ‘whack-a-mole’ of frustration, anxiety, uncertainty and indecision, always showing up at the most inconvenient times.
Faith Is My Armor Of Light
When I had just completed high school, I decided it was time to venture out into the world, get an apartment and just experience living all on my own. So, one month after graduation, I let my butterfly wings soar and found a little place about a few blocks from where I grew up.
One night something happened I will never forget, even though it was 30 years ago. I remember it like it was yesterday. Someone brought over an Ouija board! I was brought up to believe that the Ouija board is a portal to the lower realm and negative energies, and that sometimes who you want to connect with isn’t always who actually comes through. My friends and I asked the board who we were talking to and his name was George.
The part that really creeped me out came later, after everyone had gone home. I was cleaning up. My apartment was on the third floor and as I was looking down at the four corner intersection below, there was a car sitting under the street light. An older, bald man rolled the window down and leaned over to look up at me through the passenger window. “I’m George”, he said. I was so creeped out!
My roommate was gone and I was exhausted, but I couldn’t sleep. Lying in my bed later, I was trying to make sense of it all. I looked across the room and the light coming in through the blinds made it so I could see the hallway and the doorway. And there I suddenly saw the shape of a man; the figure of a man that was so dark, but you could totally make out it was a man standing right there in the doorway! I will never forget his voice. “I will never leave you, nor forsake you”, he said. Amazingly, I felt immediately comforted.
The church I grew up in was directly across from my new apartment. And I just knew that he was an angel, letting me know that through my faith I am protected. I was never again scared to be by myself.
Accepting Your Psychic Abilities
I was recently asked how I became aware and started using my psychic abilities. For many this can be a complicated, challenging journey, but I was fortunate to grow into my psychic gifts quite easily.
It all began with me growing up in a small town with a population of only 8000 souls. We were a large family of 12 children, which at that time was more common than today.
From the time I can remember, my mother used to foretell events and always spoke of a person’s “inner character,” as if she could clearly see their internal mechanisms as one would with an X-ray. It was also clear to everyone who knew her that she never seemed to be wrong in her estimations.
At the same time, my grandmother, as well as my father, frequently spoke of spirits coming back to visit us from the afterlife, and sightings of loved ones who had passed on was a common occurrence in our family life.
I can remember even as a very young child that I also just ‘knew things’ and certainly it never occurred to me to question the validity of any information I perceived. In my family it was not unusual to hear talk of someone having the “third eye” or the “second sight.” No one was ever denied their gifts.
As children we simply took these ideas in our stride and accepted them as natural and normal. We never had reason to question any of it and we didn’t realize this was not something all children experienced in their families. It was as common to us as any other domestic event that would occur in other people’s homes.
Psychic ability, metaphysics and the paranormal was something that we would naturally nourish growing up and utilize to whatever advantage we needed. Maybe ones of the reasons it became so strong among the siblings, was our inherent drive to survive under extremely arduous and stressful conditions. Only later in life did we come to understand that not all brother and sisters develop this strong psychic bond, with the ability to connect and detect danger in any situation, despite the great distances that might separate us to this day.
The Old Man And The Christmas Bells
With Christmas upon us I have been hearing church bells every Sunday in recent weeks, just like in my younger years. Going back to those years in my mind, I can remember being very young when my mother was stopped by a man who told her he was the new pastor at this church far from our house. He looked younger than my parents and he asked my mother if we had a church that we go to. She told him we did not and the man gave us an invitation to attend his church.
Since this church was reasonably close to where I grew up, it was fun to walk there at first, but after a while it seemed like forever. But my mother made a promise to us kids that after church we could get a soda pop or an ice cream cone if we were good. Mom knew how to persuade us kids to go to church without a fuss.
When I first looked at the church is seemed big, but it looked very different from the Catholic church across the street. We opened the doors and were greeted by two old ladies who handed out the programs for the service. They also told me that I would meet my mother down here in the same place after Sunday school.
Next I met my Sunday school teacher. His name was Rusty and since I was the ‘new kid on the block’, he introduced me to all the other children. Since I didn’t know any of them, I didn’t know what to think. Then Rusty started with the lesson and once again it seemed like forever for Sunday school to be over.
Later, I met mom downstairs and as I was walking down the hall a older man greeted me. I greeted him in return, not thinking much of it. After we had been seated and the pastor opened with prayer, I remember looking around and noticing that the old man was not sitting in the same pews anymore. He seemed to have left.
Dare To Weave Your Own Tale Of Abundance
Most people are familiar with the Charles Dickens’ 1859 classic, A Tale of Two Cities. Set in Paris and London against the tumultuous backdrop that lead to the French Revolution, the novel has been cited as the best-selling work of fiction of all time.
I reflect upon this intriguing work at this time, because the novel has been repeatedly referenced lately by the news media in an attempt to capture the spirit of social unrest and economic uncertainty that has disconcertingly become a global concern during the pandemic.
Over the last year, I have repeatedly asked myself the question, what is my personal ‘tale of two cities?’ Do I search for hope amidst the stories of the day, or do I succumb to the popular cacophony of dire warnings, fear-mongering, conspiracy theories and atmosphere of despair.
And so at this moment, I ask of you to take just a few minutes out of your day to ask yourself the same question. Do we place our own dreams on hold because of the apparent tensions that consistently threaten to chip away at our mind and spirit each day? Do we flounder, or do we choose to thrive, moving beyond merely just surviving.
Many years ago, I overheard someone say that while tough times don’t last, tough people do. I want to remind you that no matter how dire things may seem at the moment, trust that you have the power and right to create your own ‘tale of two cities.’
In my personal story, amidst the turmoil and uncertainty of the day, there is order and certainty. History has shown us time and time again that no matter how challenging things seem, there is always a silver lining, and a bright-shining, magnificent light at the end of every long tunnel!
My mother often shared stories of how her family survived the Great Depression. My grandparents had a large family of ten children, and they lived in a rural area on the outskirts of a metropolitan city. As the 1930’s ushered in severe economic and social challenges all over the world, many lost everything they owned, and many families became homeless.