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| Category: Spiritual Experiences |
Date published: April 8, 2003 |
Spiritual experiences? I don't know. I like to think of them as spiritual because I believe in life after death, and the fleeting, but meaningful experiences I've had have strengthened my beliefs. My husband, our two daughters under the age of six, and myself moved in with my mother about two months after my father died. I loved my father very much and always felt very close to him. I don't recall my dad ever telling me he loved me, but I could feel his love very strongly. The pain of losing my father seemed almost unbearable, and so one night after we had all gone to bed, I decided to pray to be taken from this pain and to be with my father. I have never prayed that hard before or since in my life. As I prayed, I could feel myself slowly rising above my body. I became very scared as I thought about my children, my husband and mother. If I die, what would become of them? I then kept repeating, I can't go, I can't go. I didn't tell anyone about that experience for at least 35 years. What really happened , I don't know. I just know it happened.
I believe that the above experience led to two other two experiences I've had since then. Thirty years had passed since my fist expericnce, and my life had changed considerably. My mother died, I was divorced, my children were now adults and I was living alone. One after noon my sister, who lived in Canada, called to tell me her husband had died. I was sitting on the sofa in the family room, and I told my sister I couldn't talk to her then, and I would call her back. I immediately got up from the sofa and went into the spare bedroom to look out the window. As I looked to the sky, I saw what looked like a white cross, or figure of a person in white with its arms held out from its sides. there were no clouds in the sky that day. Just what i saw.
It must have been two or more years after my brother-in-law died when one night I awoke from my sleep and saw a figure all in white a few feet away from the foot of my bed. Somehow I knew it was my mother. As I stared at her, she said to me "Watch out for little Karen." That's all she said , and then she was gone. Karen is my sister's youngest daughter but was probably in her early 30's. I didn't call my sister to tell her that, and I often wondered why I didn't. It wasn't long after seeing my mother that my sister told me that Karen had an operation because something was seriously wrong with her intestines. Several years later when I was visiting my sister in Canada, we were talking about the past and really opening up with a lot of feelings when I told her about my experience with my mother. My sister asked me when that was and when I told her, she said mom had also visited her and said exactly the same thing to her, the very same words.
There were a couple of other strange incidents throughout the years. When my mother was dying of cancer , my sister and me were taking care of her for several months. One night she became very sick and my sister told me to call for an ambulance. my mother's bedroom was on the second floor, and I became very scared and started running very fast down the stairs when I realized I had actually left the stairs and was out away from the stairs and up in the air. In my mind, I knew I was going to fall and I didnt know what to do. The next thing I knew I was in the kitchen and on the phone calling for an ambulance.
I have no idea how I got down and in the kitchen. my mother died three days later. Another time when I was young, married, and the children were young, we were going home after visiting my cousin who lived in the country. we were on a completely dark road when I said to my husband "Wouldn't it be terrible if the lights went out on the car?" and immediately, all the lights went out. We drove very slowly until we reached the freeway, and drove home without any lights.
Lastly, I usually called my mom every day just to talk. I tried several times that day to no avail. That evening my mom called me and said you'll never guess what happened, and I responded, Mr. Millard died. My mom asked how did I know that? All i could say was I don't know. Mr. Millard was my grandmother's second husband. he was not ill.
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