Urban Prisoners Without Hope

I was a social worker in New York City for two years and I worked in the slums. About 3 million people live under the poverty line in NYC and many of them live in slums that defy description. For one year I was a protective diagnostic caseworker for abused and neglected children. I was the one who went to the homes and investigated abuse and neglect and removed the child when necessary. This stressful job took quite a toll on people. The average caseworker lasted three months on the job! I lasted a year. The next year I was an undercare social worker and had custody of a caseload of about twenty children who had been removed from their homes because of abuse or neglect and were living with foster parents. I saw masses of people trapped in New York as if it were a prison.

When the movie Escape from New York came out I went down to a movie theatre downtown Manhattan near Times Square. It was like a group interaction event. People definitely empathized with being trapped in New York. Where people view themselves as being in prison, they will view the police as prison guards, and the situation fulfills itself when police ACT like prison guards. I have seen things I hope no one has to see again. I KNOW what the Afro-American community in Baltimore is feeling. I sympathize with them. But the problem is that most Americans do not want to empathize. They just want the problem to go away. While I was a social worker we had 100,000 homeless people living on the sidewalks. People just stepped over them and went on their way. Then one day, the police came in vans and trucks and all of a sudden those 100,000 people were no longer there? Where did they take them? We have a police crisis in North America because we have a crisis of conscience! We have a crisis of care, or lack thereof. But we are just so busy, aren’t we? We go to work and keep our house in order and that just consumes our energy. Who has the energy to care? If you want to pray for something, pray for the energy to care!!!!

Overcoming our illusions….and Easter

Overcoming our illusions….and Easter

As a child, as an artist, as a teacher, I have carried the same illusions around with me…those of loneliness and lack. I know they are illusions but they are mine to work with until I can undo them. When you are at the top of your profession it is easy to feel lonely. I was and I did. I was invited to join MENSA, and maybe I should have, but I thought it was just adding more to the illusion of specialness, which in itself comes from the ego illusion which fosters loneliness. As a result of these illusions I have often accepted “friendship” from people who were really NOT friends. Instead they viewed me as special and wanted to get something from me. When you have achieved some fame, people always want to “touch you,” as though it will rub off on them, and then they want you to treat THEM as though they were special! ACIM tells us that the “special relationship” is at the heart of the ego’s function which is to instill fear and lack. Ego’s cannibalize others in their quest to get something from others. Many of you FB friends are, I believe, really friends. Many of you can see my soul in my writing and postings and know me better than some people in my city who cannot see my soul and view me through only their projections. So, to you, I say: “Thank you. You have helped me in my journey.” I am working hard to forgive all of those false friends. Just so we are clear, a friend is someone who has joined with you in mind (spirit). They see you as a gift from God. They look on you from the bright side, even if you have done something they think is wrong. They have your back when you have forgotten who you are. If others say something negative about you, they will not join in. They enjoy being in your company, not because they want something from you, but just because they are your friend. They forgive on the fly. They do not hold grievances. They do not save up stamps to be used for another day! They give you that same love you remember receiving from your grandparents! Friends help to end the illusion of separation, lack and loneliness. They would never plot against you or enter into some sort of cabal to do harm to you. They do not attack. If you have had harsh words, they forgive quickly or ask to talk to you about it. They know no conspiracies. In the end, it is Jesus’ lesson from the crucifixion that helps us forgive false friends. He advises us that when we are tempted to see ourselves as victimized that we use his model in the crucifixion. He did not see attack. Instead he associated himself with his spirit which cannot be attacked, cannot be betrayed, cannot suffer lack or deprivation. In his association with his spirit he changed crucifixion to resurrection, not by the resuscitation of a dead body, but by placing the altar to God where it belonged, not with the body but with spirit. From that place he could say “Father forgive them for they know not what they do.” Jesus’ body became what it always was, NOTHING, nothing at all, for it never existed in truth. In his victory over illusion, he allowed the body to simply not exist. Having fulfilled his mission he exists within the Sonship as an active symbol of the love of God. We are his students.

Baby and I

SOME DEEP TRUTHS FOUND IN REAL SEANCES!

SOME DEEP TRUTHS FOUND IN REAL SEANCES! Most mediums are fakes. The true ones will tell you that. I had the deep privilege of sitting and working with one of the greatest physical mediums in the world, Rev. David LeBaron at Tower Memorial Church in Seattle Washington. I previously posted a long article about David on this blog. To summarize, a physical medium is able to allow spirits to materialize into the seance room and speak with you, walk and talk with you. They are able to bring you gifts which they have brought from the spirit world. Let me walk you through a seance with David LeBaron, who has passed over now, happily for him, sadly for us. Fifteen to twenty people meet in the seance room on Sunday afternoon after church. Most of them have been to many, many seances. They are comfortable with the process. It is a loving gathering of loving friends. Few places have I found such love in the world as I found in seances with David LeBaron. We enter the room and sit in small chairs in a circle. The lights are turned off or we may have a red light on. David is seated at the head of the room in a partially curtained off area, but he is clearly visible. He has a leader in the church sit next to him in the cabinet to act as a “battery” directly linked to David’s mind. The rest of us also link in mind to David. This connection of David with 20 other minds is part of his ability to manifest spirits in physical form. A leader will begin by leading the circle in prayer to Father/Mother God, the form of address Spiritualists use. Then we will begin by singing a number of well known hymns. The love that we feel for one another, for God, and for David, is magnified as we sing. In a few minutes, David’s control spirit, Hilda, will manifest, usually as a semi-solid, gaseous form. Hilda’s job is to manage the spirits that wish to manifest through David. At some point after Hilda’s greeting, a spirit will speak through David to someone in the circle. It may be a relative who has passed over or a spirit guide. The spirit will then physically manifest, sometimes as a gaseous vapor which then solidifies. In a red light seance this is all clearly visible. I have 12 spirit guides, and No, they are not demons, my evangelical Christian friends! I have several guides who were Native American Indians in their last life and they brought me many arrow heads and crystals as presents. My grandfather, George Ritchie, came through and materialized. It was wonderful to see him again. The leader of my 12 guides was an African man in his last life, named Jerome. He brought me an African wood carving as a present. In this experience our hearts are filled with love as we are connected together with David and the world of Spirit. During one very difficult time in my life, David wanted to help me so much that he underwent very difficult meditation sessions prior to the seance in order to allow a very high Master named Adriotis of Atlantea to materialize. He materialized in full regalia, his “body” as solid as mine, but there were lights all over him which pulsated as he walked. He and I walked arm in arm around the seance room as my mind joined to his. I will NEVER forget it. JESUS manifested through David many times. David told me, “He used to come every Easter.” When he materialized, he was semi-solid. He was wearing a white robe which shimmered as light, but it was also a fabric. We could see the weave in the garment. He spoke very much like the Jesus in A Course in Miracles. The seance room was immersed in love when he appeared.

SO WHAT CAN WE LEARN FROM THIS? We learn that all things are possible when minds join!!!! If we wish to change ourselves we need to join in mind lovingly with others. If it gets to an occasion where we really believe we have to change the world, we can do that by joining in mind. The world is soft, malleable, dreamy stuff. It can be changed if we really need it to be changed, but we have to have many minds joined together to do that. There is a horizontality in mind joining that we must attain, not 7 billion separated minds. If we can join that way, we will more probably see the world differently through God’s eyes. Regardless the path to power, to progress, to ascension, lays in the joining of minds.

David retired from the church. He still gave private readings but he was never able to physically manifest spirits again. He needed that joining of minds to be able to do that. THINK OF THE POWER OF MINDS JOINED IN LOVE!!!!!♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥Namaste♥

 

Who is a healer?

Who is a healer but one who has joined with other minds in wholeness. He looks upon the world as forgiven and sees it as it does not see itself. He has awakened yet lives in the world. What would he do to heal it? He would not look for modalities to heal, however advanced they might seem. Were he to do so, he would have to look upon the world as a terrible place where the sick and wounded come to die. He would look upon illusion and make it real so he might heal it. Can a healed healer know such madness? The healed healer need do nothing but stand in his wholeness before a world that believes in sickness and death. His healed mind affects the whole Sonship, for he is not alone in experiencing his wholeness. Then would his wholeness spark awakening in others with whom he would join in mind. Can the mad illusion of separation stand in such a holy place where minds have joined? What need can there be of healing when the healer has come?

None but the lonely heart

None but the lonely heart

By Joseph Shore

(This story is fictional in form but factual in Truth. It is constructed from actual events I have experienced and actual situations I have encountered while working in deliverance and healing. Any resemblance to any historical person is purely coincidental)

 

It was about 4:00AM when I received that call that you never hope to get.  I was half-asleep when I answered the phone but was propelled to full alertness as I listened to the voice of one of my eighteen year old students hysterically pleading with me for help. Her mother had just committed suicide in a most graphic way. She had jumped off the Second Narrows Bridge that connects Vancouver with North Vancouver and plummeted hundreds of feet to the inlet below. I tried to calm Giada over the phone. Her parents were divorced and her father was currently in Europe. The grandparents had passed away and she was an only child. She was all alone. She told me that she was in her house and that the police were there. I told her that I would get in my car and be right over.  Giada lived in West Vancouver, normally about a 45 minute drive for me. But at this hour I drove my big Cadillac like a madman and reached her house in 20 minutes.  The police questioned me and wanted to know why I was there. About that time Giada came running out of the house and hugged me for dear life. She explained that I was her teacher and she had asked me to come.  I took her inside and tried to find a private place away from the police where we could talk. I made her some tea and sat her down in a comfortable chair. She was still semi-hysterical and I needed to calm her down more to be able to talk to her.  She continued to cry and just wanted me to hug her. I hugged her and just held on. In a few minutes she was more able to speak. I asked if her father had been contacted yet in Europe. She said that no one had been able to find him. He was on a private yacht with one of his clients.  I asked her to tell me whatever she wanted to say about her mother. I knew the family. I knew the divorce had been very hard on Giada since she was an only child. Her mother was Dr. Eva Morin, a clinical psychologist, who had been married to a man, Edward Johnson, a Canadian investor.  It was not a loving marriage. The two were apart more than they were together and they had little in common. Johnson was the kind of man who saw what he wanted and got it. He had met Eva at a socialite party in West Vancouver and fell in love with her. He courted her extravagantly with cruises, fine dining, and extravagant gifts. You might think that a clinical psychologist would know all the tricks but Eva needed loving attention. She allowed herself to fall in love with him and soon they were married. Giada came the next year.  Dr. Morin was a fine clinical psychologist but she had enormous personal problems stemming from an austere childhood devoid of love. She was born in Milan into a wealthy Italian family deeply rooted in European politics. Her father was a very important man and seemed to be narcissistically devoted to his political career. Eva had been totally unwanted. Her father wanted an abortion but the mother refused. Her father reacted by simply not admitting Eva existed. He never spoke to her or touched her. It was as though she didn’t exist.  When Eva was four she painted a picture that she wanted to give to him. She walked into his study to give him the picture but he was in a meeting and did not even acknowledge her. With a small wave of his hand, he had his body guard remove Eva from the room. Her mother was not much better to turn to. Her mother was an alcoholic and a socialite who had neither interest, sobriety, nor time for Eva. Eva grew up alone and unloved. She never had a hug or a kiss as a child; never had a birthday party or sleepover. She was neglected and severely emotionally abused. Is it any wonder that she became a clinical psychologist? She wanted to cure herself! Unfortunately, her wounding was so deep she had never found the courage to work on it with another therapist. Her colleagues would volunteer but she would push them away. She held all her wounding inside and tried to cover it up by helping others. It was a technique which was not working for her.  Her marriage to Johnson failed for many reasons, not the least of which was that she had never learned to love. She did not know what love really was. The early infatuation that she called “falling in love” did not last long and she found herself as lonely in her marriage as she had been as a child. She and Johnson held the marriage together until Giada was sixteen and then they divorced. Eva threw herself into her work as the only technique she knew for dealing with her deep problems. It was not working.

Giada was my private student in singing and she confided in me about all the problems in the house. I acted as a counselor to her, a role I often took with students and friends. I had been trained in pastoral counseling when I was a minister and I had also been a social worker in New York City where I counseled abused and neglected children as well as their abusive parents.  Counseling is a role that had come with me through life.

First, I made sure that Giada had a friend who could stay with her until her father could be located. Giada was 18 and would surely inherit the house, but what would her life be like all alone unless her father came back into her life?

The police finally left and Giada began to calm down a little bit. “It was all his fault, you know?”  I thought she was referring to her father. “No, not him,” she said. “It was all Richard’s fault.”

“Who is Richard,” I asked, wondering if we needed to make a call to another involved party.

“He was my mother’s patient,” Giada said. “And mom loved him.”

Here was a development that Giada had never mentioned to me. “Would you like to tell me what you know,” I asked.

“Of course I am going to tell. I have to tell somebody.”

“OK,” I said. Would you like a glass of water?”

“No,” she said. “I don’t need anything. I am just so glad you are here. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

“That’s OK,” I said. “I am glad to be here for you.”

“My mom told me she had fallen in love with one of her patients,” Giada began. “Mom didn’t usually talk about her work with me. We were not really close. I mean, we were pretty much enemies in my teens, until maybe this year. She thawed a little bit.”

“OK, so she thawed a little bit?” I responded.

Giada continued: “I always knew mom was fucked up really bad from her childhood. Her dad never loved her. He wouldn’t even treat her as really there. And I know her mom was no prize either. Poor mom grew up without hugs or kisses, without any emotional support. I always knew she had this hole inside of her. She needed love so badly. I don’t know if she ever really loved daddy, but I sure know that daddy did not love or respect her. It made me feel really badly for them. And there I was caught in the middle and they would take their stuff out on me. It was so unfair. But I didn’t want them to get a divorce and I sure didn’t want mom to kill herself,” Giada said, crying.

After she calmed down, I asked her, “What role do you think Richard played in your mom’s problems?”

“Mom told me that Richard came to her to work on problems just like hers! He had not been loved as a child. When he was little, his parents would not even get a babysitter if they wanted to go out. They would just lock Richard in the closet! ‘Now be good! Mommy and daddy will be back in just a few minutes.’  Shit like that. Mom said his dad was a real piece of work. He thought he was an inventor and was always building things in the back yard. One time he even built a big sail boat and bought a trailer for it. One day he called the family together and said, ‘We are going to take a little sail on the ocean in our new boat. Everybody get in the truck!’ They drove to the ocean, off-loaded the boat and everybody got in. Richard’s dad did not know how to sail. Nobody did. His dad just thought he could figure it out on the ocean. They sailed for three or four hours and a big storm came up with huge waves and rain. Richard’s dad yelled at the family to all get under the tarp that was on deck.  They continued going into the storm and Richard raised his head out from under the tarp and said, ‘Are we all going to die now dad?’ Somehow they managed to get back to port.  Shit like that. Mom said Richard did not know what love was and he wanted to find out.”

“And so was their therapy successful,” I asked.

“Yeah, to a big extent, mom said. Richard began to make real progress. He was really beginning to open up. He started doing nice things for people. He said that he had hated his neighbor for years and didn’t like feeling that way anymore. So he knocked on his neighbor’s door and asked him if there was anything he could do for him! The guy thought it was a stupid joke so he said, ‘Sure. You wanna help me? You can wash my car.’ So Richard did. He washed the guy’s car. His neighbor was so stunned he thought Richard had gone nuts. But it made Richard feel really good. He would volunteer to help out in soup kitchens for the homeless. He was always bringing flowers to mom. NOBODY had ever brought her flowers. I think the roles got changed. Richard had really found something and he was giving it to mom.  She didn’t know what was happening. Richard was doing therapy on her. She would find little ways to get him to come over. Once she turned off the water and broke a pipe so she could ask Richard if he knew anything about plumbing. He came right over and fixed the pipe and mom asked him to stay for dinner. Richard really liked mom and he thought her therapy was really helping him. But mom liked Richard a lot more. She loved him. She was receiving more love from Richard than she had ever received before.”

“So what was the problem,” I asked.

“Well, my mom is 62. She had me really late. Richard was 30. I don’t think it ever occurred to Richard that my mom really loved him. He certainly could not imagine being in love with a 62 year old woman. But my mom was changing inside. She was a lot nicer to me and we actually started being friends. She stopped thinking of herself as being old. She really started to live for the first time because of the love she was getting through Richard. It was more like the love was there when Richard came and she just absorbed it like a dry sponge. I mean, she actually was happy in the morning and that had never happened.  She would hum little tunes around the house and work in her garden. She would play with the cat and she never paid any attention to him before! It was like she was really changing! Then she asked me one night, ‘What would you think of having Richard for a step dad?’ I said ‘WHAAAA?’ Then she stepped back and said, ‘Oh well, it was just a hypothetical question.’ But it was pretty obvious that she was in love with him. I didn’t see anything wrong with that. Mom deserved love after all she had been through. And I didn’t see anything wrong with a 62 year old woman loving a 30 year old man! Like, it happens, right?”

“It can happen,” I said.

“Right. Well mom was really happy. Richard would come over to dinner and tell us all about the people he had just helped and how good it made him feel. Mom would just sit there beaming at him and thanking him for sharing. She began to do loving things for Richard too. She knew his brothers and sisters were also really fucked up so she volunteered to counsel them for free! It made her feel good to do that and she brought that home to me. We began to have really wonderful talks. She spologized for not being a better mother to me, and she began to cry. She never cried before. I cried too and we just sat there in front of the fireplace crying together. God how I loved my mom right then,” Giada said as she began to cry again. She was sobbing, almost uncontrollably. I asked her if it were OK if I hugged her. She nodded yes and I hugged her in my arms as though she were a child.  When she had calmed I asked her, “Where did the problem come in for your mom and Richard?”

“Richard began to sense that mom loved him. At least that’s what mom said. At first he was just surprised and startled but then he began to feel uncomfortable. He started to cancel his therapy appointments for funny reasons, like his car kept having trouble just before an appointment or he would come down with a cold and just not want to come. Mom is a good therapist and I am sure she saw what was going on but she wanted Richard. She loved him as best as she knew how to love. You can’t criticize that. She could visualize a great relationship with Richard but Richard was hung up on the age thing. If mom had been 30 years old I am sure they would have gotten married and been really happy. But she wasn’t thirty and she was looking at love in a wholly different way than Richard. He was still looking for young chicks with big boobs who liked to screw, even though he was learning about another love by helping people. Richard hadn’t put the big picture together yet. Mom got sort of desperate. She would break something in the house and ask Richard if he could fix it. Richard would say he was too busy. She would ask him over to dinner and he would say he already had plans. And all this time my mom was still being faithful to her pledge to counsel Richard’s family for free. She never once tried to use that to try to manipulate Richard. She just suffered. Gradually she started to change back to the old sad mom. She wasn’t happy anymore in the morning. We wouldn’t talk at night. We started to fight. She would criticize me for my choices in boyfriends, what I wore, or the way my room looked. One night she was laying into me and I just starting crying very hard. I just blurted out, ‘Why don’t you go talk to Richard and tell him how you feel about him?’ She stopped still and just looked straight ahead for a minute and then left my room and walked out of the house. I heard the garage door open and her car pull out, and that is the last I ever saw of my mom.”

Giada was now sobbing harder than ever.  I comforted her as best I could.

The police came back and questioned me again in my involvement with the family. I asked them directly if the body had been recovered yet and if they had any information about what took place after Eva left her house. They answered that yes the body had been recovered and was in the city morgue awaiting identification. I asked them if that had to be done by Giada. They replied that usually a relative would need to make the ID but since Dr. Morin was well known clinically, one of her colleagues could do it. I prevailed upon them to call the counseling center where Eva worked and request that one of her colleagues indentify the body and release it to a local mortuary. Apparently, after Dr. Morin had left the house she drove to the apartment of Richard Langley where she roused him from sleep, demanding a meeting with him. According to Langley she blurted out that she loved him deeply and wanted to be with him the rest of her life. His reaction was one of shock and disgust. He said something like, “You woke me up in the middle of the night to dump shit like this on me?” He had no compassion for her and certainly could not envision marrying her. He told her to get the hell out of his apartment and go sleep it off!! Apparently, that was more than she could take. She drove her car to the Second Narrows Bridge, parked it and jumped.  When she did not return home Giada called the police. They had traced the car parked on the bridge to Dr. Morin and had come to the Morin house to investigate. Shortly thereafter a witness had called in a report of seeing a woman answering to the description of Dr. Morin jumping off the bridge. It was about this time that Giada called me and I arrived on the scene.

Now there were some practical things that I had to do. I asked Giada if she knew where her mother kept her check book and bank records. She took me to her mom’s dresser drawer where bank records were found.  I showed them to the police. Apparently Eva had been thinking of suicide earlier because she had made her banking accounts into joint accounts with Giada. The house and all its possessions had been signed over to joint ownership with Giada. There was no will. Giada was the sole owner of the estate and we could now plan for a funeral service. The checking account had over $300,000 in it and other accounts held much more. Giada could just write a check for the funeral. I explained all this to her. It was now 6:00AM but she could not sleep. We sat up together. At 10:00AM one of Eva’s colleagues, Dr. Lawrence Fogel, identified the body and we asked for it to be released to Park Lawn Mortuary in West Vancouver.  Giada’s father had been located in Morocco but declined any interest in returning to Vancouver! There I was, with an eighteen year old girl, planning a funeral for her mother. The family’s friends and Eva’s colleagues were notified and a simple funeral was conducted two days later. I road with Giada in the  limo to the funeral, burial and back to her house. The family doctor had prescribed sleeping medication for Giada but I also stayed over with her. She was just about to take her meds when she asked me, “Did I kill my mother? After all she just did what I told her to do.” Her face was full of pain and the tears were welling up again.

“No. It was not your fault. Your mother had been thinking about ending her life a long time. The cause of her pain was in her early life and she had carried around those past hurts her whole life.”

She began to cry. “Is my mother in hell now? I mean, we were never religious but I always heard that suicides go to hell.”  She burst into inconsolable tears. I thought to myself, “Dear God what am I to say to her now?” My inner voice said, “Stay in your compassion for her and you will be guided in what to say.”  I put my hand out to see if she wanted touch. She grabbed it with a desperate grip. “Do you want me to hug you,” I asked?  She nodded yes and I hugged her like a loving father does with a frightened child. Then I told her of people I have known who died and came back to tell of a life after death. One of the people was Sandra Rogers, a nurse, who had tried to kill herself. She was surprised to find herself out of her body as a spirit in another dimension of spirit. Instead of being condemned she was surrounded by Divine Beings who helped her to see her life fully. She came back to life and became a very loving, wiser person.

“But my mom is not coming back,” she said.

“I know. But it may give you comfort to know that people who kill themselves out of pain and confusion are not met in the afterlife with judgment. We can pray for your mother’s spirit to find peace. Would you like us to do that?”

Giada nodded yes. I closed my eyes and extended my mind into Spirit, inquiring of my guides about the soul of Dr. Eva Morin who had just passed over. Giada knew about my work in Spirit. We had discussed it in the course of our time in lessons.  The message I got was, “inquire again when she asks you.” This was sort of a cryptic message but I tried to stay true to it. I advised Giada that it would be good for her to sleep now. “In your sleep you can pray for your mom.” I really did not know what that meant. She took the sleeping meds and within an hour had managed to go to sleep. I sat up. I did not feel it was right for me to sleep.  After about three hours I was just beginning to nod off when I heard Giada’s voice say, “Mom? Mom?” I quickly came to her bed side. Giada was sitting up looking at the ceiling. “There was a woman here all shining and dressed in white. I thought she was mom but the woman said she was an angel. She asked us to pray for mom. Will you help me?” That was my cue. I extended my mind into Spirit once again and this time I was met by golden orbs of Light who I knew to be angels. They said, “Look there. She is down there.”  I looked down from the spirit dimension I had gone into and saw a dark layer that we call the Astral level.  There I saw her mother’s soul wrapped in layers of a dark substance. I asked two of the angels to take me there and in that instant we were there. She was surrounded by malicious spirits who enjoyed the state she was in. But at the sight of the golden orbs with me they fled. She was in a fetal position, rocking back and forth, saying something over and over again. I asked the angels to let me hear what she was saying. Over and over again, she repeated the words, “Nothing good will ever happen for me ever again.” I was filled with such pain, the angels had to sustain me. “Help her,” I shouted to them. They conveyed to me telepathically,” Call in the missionary angels to help.” I did not know who they were at that time, but I had faith and called for them. Instantly that spirit space was filled with the most amazing Light Beings I have ever seen. It was their job to rescue lost souls from the hell minds had made. In the deepest part of hell, no souls are alone. These angels are there, trying to turn their gaze upwards to the Light. As I stood in their presence I also had hold of Giada’s hand. “Pray for your mom right now,” I screamed. These divine Beings moved into that Astral layer as though it were not there. They unwrapped Eva’s soul from that bondage. As they did Eva’s eyes opened and all the Light of Heaven moved into her soul, washing out all of that pain and illusion. A great smile came to her face. Down below Giada screamed, “I love you mom. GO, GO, GO. You will find what you have always been looking for.”  Those amazing Beings took her under each arm and ascended with her. Giada saw her too as she ascended and we both gave thanks. As I came back to Giada’s bedside, all her tears were gone. There was just the same bright smile that I had seen on Eva’s face.  “My mother is in heaven,” she exclaimed. Words failed me. I just cried tears of gratefulness, for in the darkest hour for both Giada and her mom, Love had come at last to show its presence. All pain had been wiped away as easily as a breeze disperses a little cloud. Love truly is all that is real. Everything which is of fear and pain is an illusion which confused minds have miscreated. Love truly is present. It is our natural inheritance. The pain and confusion we miscreate on earth cannot harm us in truth. Only Love is real and nothing real can be threatened. Nothing unreal exists in truth. We are truly as God created us. No cloud of illusion can be left to obscure the truth of God’s creation.

In the days that followed this great event of ascendance Giada came to peace within herself. Her father returned from Morocco and begged for her forgiveness. The angels had touched him as well. They eventually sold the big house and moved into a smaller house in the interior of British Columbia. Giada has entered Nursing School and her father works at home.

Amazing are the works of peace and blessed are they who know Love’s Presence.