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A Skeptic Receives Assurance

 

In early March, my mother passed away very suddenly. I was so shocked and saddened that my Pentecostal faith, although helpful, was not giving me the comfort that I longed for. Several weeks later, a friend at the office gave me the number of a psychic that she had visited and thought to be very credible. Although this went against my conservative Christian beliefs, I felt that if I prayed for direction, God would help me decide if it was the right thing to do.
Needless to say, I found myself on the doorstep of "Kim's" home. Kim did not know at first why I had come for a reading. As she made me tea in her kitchen, she chatted casually about the weather and my job. When she returned with the tea to her living room, she mentioned that she felt I was there because I had lost someone very close to me, someone who had given me comfort. Very quickly she determined that it was my mother.
Kim went on to tell me that my mom had gone straight to the light when she died and then gave amazing information and details about my mother's life, her funeral, her experience in the afterlife. She related a detailed encounter of the evening prior when I had sat in my bedroom with a candle and had cried and spoken out loud to my mom. I had been alone that evening. Kim indicated that my mom loved the scented candle I had lit, and that indeed, Mom had been there at the end of my bed.
The reading left me exhilarated and euphoric. It had given me the connection I was so longing for. Unfortunately, because of my faith, I found it difficult to share this with my siblings and friends. I was concerned that they might think I was venturing into things that could put me into spiritual danger. Those who I did tell were skeptical and felt that I had perhaps "led" Kim to be able to give me the comfort I so needed.
As weeks passed, skepticism crept into my own thoughts, and slowly I began to feel distant and grief-stricken again. But one night, I recalled that Kim had told me to invite my mom to visit in my dreams. I had done this several times over the weeks, and almost every time, I was given a lovely dream that would include conversations and encounters with my dear mom. Each morning after, I would feel comforted and connected. But then as the day passed, my skepticism would discount the dream as my subconscious mind working overtime.
Then I recalled that when I was a young child, a dear friend of my mother had passed away from cancer. I loved this friend dearly and was very sad that I had been unable to say good-bye to him. The night he died, "Uncle Phil" came to visit me in a dream. He told me that he was happy and at peace and that I should take care of my mom. I could smell his leather jacket and the smoke from the pipe that he used to smoke. It was all so incredibly vivid and absolutely real. He told me that he would see me again and not to worry about him. At nine years old, this dream was unquestionably real to me, and when I told my mother, who was so grief-stricken, she believed me wholeheartedly and affirmed my experience. As a child, it never occurred to me to be skeptical about this wonderful visit from the other side.
Remembering this, I asked God if he could find a way to send communication in such a way that I would not discount it. The very next morning, I awoke and although I had not had a dream, my four-year-old daughter came into my bedroom fresh from her bed and said, "Mommy, I dreamed about Nana last night. She came into my room and played with me. It was so good to see her!" She told me of her dream with no fear and with absolute conviction. I sat in awe. Here was the answer to my prayer!
I will continue to invite my mom into my dreams, and I am no longer afraid that I am in danger. By the way, I had read "Embraced By The Light" a year earlier, but after my first visit with Kim, she recommended I read it again. Picking it up again, only weeks after my mothers death was so comforting. I thank Betty Eadie for writing this wonderful account of what we have to look forward to after this time on earth.

L.M.

 

 

 
   
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