Eyes of an Angel Read online

  With a determined but gracious manner, she led us quickly to the soul who had been entrusted to her. Without any feeling of movement or direction, we were suddenly standing before a mudstone building on a wide, open plain. It was the burnt-out building I had been shown a few days earlier on my tour with Meldor. The building had been burned black. The roof was gone, and what had once been a window and door, were now just bleak sooty openings. I stepped closer, peering in through the window.

  The sight of more than a dozen burnt and charred human bodies almost staggered me. Repulsed, I wanted to get away from the place. Even though it was difficult to discern the features of most of the bodies, it appeared that nearly all of them were either quite young or very old. They were male and female, strewn across the floor. At least five of them were small children. The suffering that must have occurred seemed too horrible to comprehend. This had been done deliberately! What kind of fear and hatred would cause someone to do such a thing?

  It was then that I began to sense the presence of a soul trapped in deliberation. Near the far corner of the room, a young black African boy, perhaps 10 or 11 years old, lay face up in a crumpled heap along the wall. His thin hands were clasped to the sides of his head covering his ears. The horribly burnt body of an older woman lay across his legs, pinning him down.

  This was simply too much. I didn't want to see what this young man had experienced. Closing off my perception, I begged Meldor for help.

  Almost immediately the warmth of his energy began flowing through me. Like a powerful sedative, the effect was calming. For several moments I stood, languishing in the intense vibrations. Soon Meldor's reassuring words filled my mind. “The more horrific the prison,” he said, “the more wonderful the release.”

  The words pierced powerfully through my being. He was right. This unfortunate soul certainly needed our help. I began to imagine how wonderful it would be to see the young man's transformation from desperation to joy. There was no question; this was something I had to do.

  Reopening my perception, I began to focus on the boy's thoughts. Bracing myself for the mental shock that would surely follow, I prepared for the worst. But it didn't happen. Instead, I heard only a small voice quietly singing a simple tune. To my surprise, I found his mind engrossed in thoughts of being safely hidden beneath thick, comforting blankets. It was like he was absorbed in a daydream. Probing further, I understood what was happening.

  As a young boy, he had endured a terrible existence. All too often, he had witnessed atrocities of mind-numbing consequence. His mother had been frightfully abused and beaten so many times that he had learned to protect himself by crawling into the safety of his bed. Pulling the blankets over his head, he would put his fingers into his ears to block out the sound. Now, at the horrible ending of his young life, he had again protected himself by mentally crawling into his bed and blocking out the terrible reality. This time, however, he was locked into his self-induced daydream.

  Although saddened by what this young boy had endured, I was immensely relieved I didn't have to experience his terror. This would be a lot easier than I expected.

  Stepping through the doorway, I crossed the floor until I stood over him. He looked like such a lost little creature it tore at my heart. Asking for God's help, I reached down and placed my hand on top of his head. Startled, his eyes flashed open. He jerked his hands away from his ears, staring up at me in complete surprise. I couldn't help but smile. Feeling a deep empathy and tenderness for this child, I began softly. “Hi,” I said. “What's your name?”

  “Lelanee,” he whispered back.

  “Lelanee,” I repeated. “That's a nice name.” His eyes widened. I slowly continued. “You're okay now, Lelanee. You can get up if you like. How would you like to see your mother?”

  He nodded his head.

  I reached down, took his hand, and began to help him to his feet. All of a sudden, the building, the horrific scene, and everything around us dissolved before my eyes and we were instantly transported to the Park. Lelanee's eyes were wide with amazement as he scanned the surroundings. Before I could say a word, he bounded past me yelling, “Mama, Mama!” Elated, I turned to watch as his mother swept him into her arms, and hugging him close, spun in circles, laughing happily.

  Gratified, I just stood there, grinning. When tears began building in my eyes, I wanted to be back in my body, and a moment later I was.

  There was so much to think about. I lay in bed contemplating the power and meaning of all that I had witnessed. At the beginning of the week, I had been more than a little apprehensive and skeptical about the program, but it had turned out to be a miraculous learning opportunity.

  Even though I had experienced many remarkable encounters in the spirit world, the final session of the week proved to be the most profound. After moving quickly through the various levels, I was joined by two spirits who wanted to take me to their lost charge. One of the entities was a spirit guide, while the other had been the grandfather of the soul we were to retrieve. Although I wasn't given the name of the guide, I was told that the grandfather's name was Alejandro. The name of the young man we were searching for was Marcos.

  Following a short burst of movement, we emerged on the ground in a heavily vegetated, jungle-like area. It seemed to be about midafternoon. The sun shone brightly in the warm, humid air. This was the same place Meldor had taken me on our first tour. My impression was of a rural area somewhere in South America. I could feel the vibrations of both spirits that accompanied me, but could only make out the faint form of the grandfather.

  As I stood in the green grass of a small clearing, the memory of the disturbing scene of my earlier visit returned. We would be looking for a body with a vicious neck wound, draped over a fence. Our immediate surrounding was familiar. The old weathered three-board ranch fence was right in front of us, but there was no one to be seen.

  I stood for a few moments peering about when, to my left, the sounds of someone running caught my attention. A soldier in green camouflage came charging out of the dense underbrush and stopped short in the clearing. Obviously looking for someone, he crouched, anxiously scanning the fence line. The view of the other side of the railing, however, was obscured by dense brush and foliage. From a distance I could hear the sounds of machine-gun fire and barking dogs moving in our direction. The thought entered my mind that this was a drug raid.

  There came a flurry of motion, and I spotted a dark-haired young man crashing through the foliage on the other side of the fence. Diving to his hands and knees, he began desperately crawling through the horizontal planks towards the clearing. The soldier, now less than a hundred feet away, quickly raised his rifle and fired twice. The bullets ripped through the back of the young man's neck just as he was part way through the fence. His head dropped, and his body collapsed lifelessly over the bottom rail. Then it was as if time stood still.

  Long moments passed as I stood riveted to my spot. Stunned by what I had witnessed, I was also puzzled. This was different than the other retrievals. All of the earlier cases had been presented after death had occurred, not while it was happening. Previously I had either been given the details by my guides or had probed the thoughts of the affected soul. This time, however, I was right there, as if it were just happening. Could it be that we had actually traveled back in time to the exact moment of the event? Not knowing what to make of it, I returned my mind to the task at hand.

  Marcos's thoughts were frantic. In that instant he knew his neck was broken and that he would soon be dead. In shock and disbelief, he began to pray.

  Moving to within just a few feet of him, I called his name. “Marcos,” I said softly. Continuing his Spanish prayer, he obviously hadn't heard me.

  “Marcos,” I repeated more loudly and firmly. This time he stopped praying and fell into a dead silence. Then as if deciding that he must have been hearing things, he returned to his prayers with renewed vigor.

  At this point, I wasn't sure what to do, but I had to get
his attention. Offering a quick prayer of my own, I asked for help and guidance. A moment later I felt a strange new energy swirling through my body; it intensified until it began to literally radiate from my fingertips. My hands felt scorching hot.

  Knowing there must be a good reason for the energy flow, I bent down and, placing my hand on the back of his head, I again called out his name.

  Breakthrough! In the middle of a word, he stopped praying. Then with gushing sobs he began to cry.

  “Marcos,” I repeated softly, trying to sooth him. “Everything is okay. Your neck is all right. You can get up now. Look, your grandfather, Alejandro, is here to see you.”

  As the words were coming out of my mouth, a stunning realization hit me. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. My thoughts were in English but my words were not. I clearly heard myself speaking Spanish, yet I hadn't a clue how to speak Spanish! Momentarily dumbfounded, I didn't have time to give it much thought.

  Marcos began to stir. Slowly raising his head, he glanced at me, and then turned in the direction of his deceased grandfather. With a loud cry, he let go a burst of unintelligible expletives. I didn't know if he was cursing or praying, but suspected a bit of both.

  Seemingly forgetting his injuries, Marcos jumped to his feet, his energy-body passing through the upper fence boards like they weren't there. A big smile spread across his face. Fixated, he gingerly stepped around me and rushed to his grandfather's embrace. As I turned to follow him, in the next instant, Marcos, his grandfather, and everything around us, abruptly vanished. With a resounding jolt, I slammed back into my body. The session was over.

  As I lay in the darkness reliving the fascinating images, numerous questions plagued my mind. Had I actually gone back in time to view an event while it was happening? A fluent Spanish dialogue had flowed from my mind. Where did it come from? Had I spoken Spanish before? Perhaps in another lifetime?

  I knew I might never know the answers to these questions, and perhaps it didn't matter. The questions themselves could be more intriguing than the answers.

  Our final debriefing session ended with the expected rounds of teary-eyed hugs and goodbyes. We would soon be heading back to our busy lives in every corner of the globe. It had been a most remarkable week for me. I hadn't shared many of my own experiences with the group, but I had certainly been enthralled by some of the emotional stories I heard. Just a week earlier, I had had serious reservations, but now there was no doubt in my mind. We had made an important difference in the lives of some people.

  9

  Spiritual Connections

  Then comes an angel, eyes ablaze

  Heart secure and love unfazed

  A glimpse of what was meant to be

  Pure light upon reality

  Life, I had always believed, was for the most part a crapshoot. Fraught with unexpected twists and turns, it could lead us down some peculiar paths. I was beginning to discover, however, that regardless of the roads traveled, eventually we all arrive at the same place—home. Although often an endlessly confusing struggle, the path we end up following is likely the very same one we ourselves designed before we came here.

  I was gradually learning that there weren't many coincidences or accidents in life. Instead, there seemed to be a definite plan including some built-in roadblocks and obstacles that each of us envisioned before incarnating.

  Following my return home from the Lifeline Program, I spent a lot of time in contemplation and meditation. My recent experiences had been profound, and I needed to know how it all fit into the path I was taking.

  It felt like my life was becoming something of a giant jigsaw puzzle without the benefit of a guiding photo. Every now and then I was given a new piece to put into place, but I couldn't yet grasp the entire picture. There were still more pieces missing than found. On top of that, I had no idea how big the completed puzzle was supposed to be or if I could ever hope to put all the pieces together.

  Some things I knew to be true without a doubt. I knew there is definitely a God but I wasn't as sure about what or who God is. From Meldor's revelations, it seemed that we are all part of God, and even more incredibly, as a collective unit, we are God.

  I accepted the premise that we are eternal and that the great majority of us do not come into the world just once, but incarnate many, many times. Working through our goals and trials, we hope to eventually achieve perfection and ultimately the realization of being one with God.

  I also understood that we—and apparently every other living thing in the universe—are connected at a spiritual or pure energy level. Being all part of the experience, we could also experience all of the parts. These things felt right and true in my heart, but there were still so many things that I didn't know and couldn't comprehend. In terms of spiritual knowledge, I was still in kindergarten. My education had only just begun....

  Having lived a difficult and tormented life, my mother, wracked with cancer and Parkinson's disease, finally gave up her body on her 81st birthday. Although grief-stricken at her passing, our family was relieved that she would no longer have to endure the suffering of her final years. Most of us were with her in the hospital when she made her transition. By that time in my life, I had a completely different view of death than my devoutly Catholic siblings.

  A few months earlier, as it became apparent her condition was terminal, she had been afraid of dying, uncertain if she was good enough to be allowed into Heaven. Undoubtedly, throughout her life, she had heard far too many sermons of hellfire and damnation. Although we all thought she could be sainted, she worried she might be somehow lacking.

  In those final moments, while holding her hand, I spoke to her with my thoughts, encouraging her to let go, to go to the Light. I promised her that she would be going to a wonderful place where she would be happy and free of her crippling diseases. I assured her that Grandma and Grandpa would be there to greet her, and I told her that she would be able to fly.

  Although my sisters and brothers wept with grief, and a large lump formed in my throat, I tried to maintain positive thoughts. This, I told myself, was a wonderful occasion, and we should be happy for our mother's return home. I would not and could not cry.

  Near the end, as her life force began to withdraw, a noticeable change came over the energy in her body. I knew she was ready to leave and closed my eyes, hoping to be able to witness her transition. But it was not to be. With all the anxious thoughts flooding my brain, I wasn't able to step up my vibrations or see beyond the insides of my eyelids. Although I couldn't see her, I was able to feel her subtle vibration as she floated to the ceiling in the upper right hand corner of the room. I sensed her elation and wonder. Moments later, while I strained to open my inner vision, her vibration faded and she was gone. My eyes still closed, I projected a final message. “Bye, Mom. I'll see you soon.”

  This had all happened about a year before my Lifeline seminar. At various times during the ensuing year I attempted to make contact with my mother while out-of-body, but to no avail. Out of frustration I stopped trying. I knew that if it were meant to be, someday I would meet her again on the Other Side. I had learned through trial and error that if I became obsessed with trying to achieve a certain experience, it would usually elude me until I least expected it.

  About a month after my return from The Monroe Institute, it was my mother who came to visit me.

  I had gone to bed late. As I floated at the edge of sleep, a fluttering vibration began to slowly surface in my awareness. Tired as I was, I couldn't resist the opportunity for an adventure. Taking mental control of the vibrations, I moved quickly through the threshold of consciousness, attempting to home in on the frequency that led to the Park. But nothing happened. For several more minutes I lay in bed, trying to focus my thoughts while fighting off sleep. It appeared that I was going to lose the struggle and slowly I drifted into oblivion.

  A loud thud quickly brought me back to awareness. To my surprise, I found myself floating near my bedroom ceiling,
the sound of a woman's soft voice calling my name. Startled, I turned in the direction of the voice. To my total bewilderment, a large portion of the bedroom wall began to swirl into a dim mist before opening into a tunnel-like vortex about six feet in diameter. Near the center of the opening moving in my direction was an oval of shimmering light.

  Projecting my senses, I probed the light to identify the approaching entity. Almost immediately a vibration of familiar love permeated my entire being. I had not the slightest doubt. It was my mother!

  The anticipation was exhilarating. I watched as the light moved slowly in my direction. Was this the form that my mother now inhabited? Was this the true form of all spirits?

  Within moments the glowing oval floated through the wall and into my bedroom. Once inside the room it stopped, and with a gentle mesmerizing swirl, it began to transform into a familiar human shape. My mother did not appear at all like the withered, tired, 81 -year-old I had last seen. She looked to be in the prime of her life, between 35 and 40 years old. She was simply radiant.

  Even though I wasn't in my body, I could feel the pounding of my heart. I had not anticipated anything like this. My mother exuded such a wonderful peacefulness about her that I ached with happiness. As she stretched out her arms, I moved to embrace her. The instant we touched, I felt a rush of energy; the bedroom faded, and the next thing I knew, we were in the Park.

  Surprised, I had no idea how this movement had taken place. Pulling back from her embrace, I looked into her eyes. They were beaming with happiness and reassurance. In my mind I heard her voice. “It's easier to talk to you here.”