My Life Will Have To Do!

I went to Southwest Baptist University and got an B.A. in a double major, Theology and Speech/Drama. For the latter I got elected to Who’s Who in American Colleges and Universities. I did graduate work towards my M.Div at Southern Baptist Theological Seminary and Midwestern Baptist Theological Seminary. I did a pastoral internship and became a licensed Southern Baptist minister. However, I was not very happy with that denomination because they were becoming very right wing and anti-intellectual. But it was in seminary that I received an “inner call,” not to be a minister but to be an opera singer. Without any formal training in voice I entered the Metropolitan Opera Auditions of the Air in 1974 and won. I was given a two year apprenticeship with the Santa Fe Opera and made my stage debut there, then with the Tulsa Opera, which nourished me during my early years. I sang at the Metropolitan Opera in a Gala Concert in 1975 and was awarded the Gladys Axman-Taylor Memorial Award for being one of the ten National Winners of the Met Auditions. I moved to New York in 1975 and began studying with Jerome Hines and Cesare Bardelli of the Met and coached with Alberta Masiello, the head of the coaching department of the Met. For two years I had a mailbox at the Met because so many people were writing me there. Every day I would come in the side stage door and check my mail.  I made my New York stage debut in 1980 at the Brooklyn Academy with the Chamber Opera Theater of New York, in an opera by Sir William Walton called The Bear, based on the Chekhov farce by the same name, and received a great review from The New York Daily News. I became a member of Jerome Hines’ personal Opera Company and sang with him for 20 years. In 1981 I starred in the New York premiere of Rimsky-Korsakov’s opera, Mozart and Salieri, and received highly favorable reviews from New York critics as well as 100 critics from all over the world. From that point I sang leading roles in all the major opera companies in America and some in Canada and Europe. Some of the fun times were when I sang La Traviata  in Central Park with the New York Grand Opera. We also performed it at Coney Island and in Brooklyn. Also, in Lincoln Center, I sang a summer concert with the Guggenheim Concert Band.

I won several awards: Besides the Met Auditions, I won the national award for the WGN Auditions in Chicago and the Bruce Yarnell Memorial Award for Baritones in New York.

My European debut was in 1984 as Verdi’s Rigoletto which I played at the Belfast Grand Opera House as part of the Northern Ireland Opera Festival. One performance was broadcast over radio by the BBC. It was still dangerous over there then. We had a judge in the chorus who always had two body guards with him. The theatre itself celebrated Queen Victoria being named Queen of India and was ornately dressed with huge elephants all over the theatre, carved ones of course. The Director was the very famous Nicholas Hytner with whom I got along famously. Hytner went on to make many hit movies and became director of the National Theatre in England.

 

I was fortunate to sing with the great opera singers of that day who were international stars. I always felt my work in opera was to inspire my audience to look upward and ask the big questions in life: “What is Truth, Beauty, and Love.” Art cannot give the answers but it is very good at turning one’s gaze upwards. In short, I was trying to inspire people with my singing and acting. I felt that I could do it better on a stage than from behind a pulpit! But I did not lose my interest in theology. Far from it, I completed and finally received a legal Th.D degree in 2016 just out of my desire to finish something I started long ago.

I was Professor of Voice at the University of British Columbia, Indiana University, Perdue University of Indiana and the University of North Carolina at Greensboro. I am retired now but still teach a few students. It has been a long road from Carthage, and could have been longer. In 1982 I sang a concert based on war and peace, half in Russian (which I learned) and half in English, all high song literature on the subject, including Mussorgsky song cycle, “The Songs and Dances of Death” (sung in Russian). The sponsor for the concert,  which was to be held at Marymount Manhattan College in Manhattan,  invited the United Nations delegation from the Soviet Union and the delegation from The United States. The American delegates did not attend, but the entire Russian delegation came and filled the first three rows of the theatre. At the end of the concert, they rushed up on stage to thank me. The lead delegate said to me “That was real Russian you sang!” and we talked for a few minutes. He said he would try to get Goskoncert (the Soviet Art Agency, to invite me to perform in Moscow. All sorts of Congressmen recommended me to them including Rep Taylor from Missouri, but in the end it didn’t happen. In the course of my career I sang for US Representatives, Senators, Consuls, and Ambassadors. I almost sang for Jimmy Carter.  I met him in the elevator going down to my rehearsal! Stars of the Met became my good friends and even were my fans. At the Met, James McCracken, Jerome Hines, Ezio Flagello, Carlo Cossutta, Teddy Uppman, Gilda Cruz-Romo, Marilyn Niska were all my fans and I was their colleague. Those were the days!

Galina Vishnevskaya, the Russian soprano, who was exiled from the Soviet Union along with her husband, Rostropovitch, chose me to sing the leading Russian Baritone role in Tchaikovsky’s Opera, Iolanta, which she was to direct  at the Salzburg Festival. From hearing me sing, she thought I was Russian, so my Russian must have been pretty authentic. I sang the role of Boris Godounov many times in Russian. It was a role that fit me well, perhaps because I learned it from my teacher, Jerome Hines, who was one of the great Boris’ of all time. I received many reviews from world critics which placed me at the top of my operatic profession. But I developed personal enemies among the moguls who politically control opera because I would not depart from my goals to use opera to inspire people and uplift them. I would not do crazy things like wear a space suite and pretend to be singing on the moon, or sing totally nude! Such idiocies were creeping into opera even then. But I did the best I could to fulfill my dreams to use opera as an inspirational art. Hundreds of my performances are on youtube and have been seen worldwide now. I wish I could have done more, but the miracle is that I did all that I did fighting against congenital heart disease. I sandwiched my career in between three open heart surgeries.  My life will just have to do! 🙂

Joe 02-13-16

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Let us live in our Love and our Song

Let us leave the world of unforgiveness behind and live in our Love and our Song. The Song is not formal music. It is the eternal call to Home that the spirit hears in every rock and leaf, every grain of sand, every child’s face, every dog and cat’s response to our love for them. The Song is in you. I hear you singing it so sweetly. Oh precious Jesus how the world sings the song you know so well, the song of Oneness in praise of the Love that we are.

The world that was created by fear and anger we can now view through the eyes of newness. No longer must we see the world as separate factions fighting one another. We have forgiven the world of strife we created. Forgiveness now rests on our brows and on the world’s. Now can we see Heaven’s reflection made so perfect in the world. Now that Love has come into aching hearts, the need for time is almost gone. The One Song sings beautifully throughout a world which knew it not and all creation gives thanks to you and to the Creator. Now do we see the steps to Heaven’s gate on which you stand. Now we have no need for the world which served us so well with lessons to be learned. The time for learning is over. The time of the great rejoining has come and every tiny part of all universes has come to join the One Song we sing. And tears of joy come in recognition of the vast ages of time we have entered bodies to remember our eternal Self, One with the Creator, AND WE ARE ALL THE BELOVED. Gently do Heaven’s doors open to receive back its One Son. Gently does the Creator’s arm reach out and gather His Son back to Himself. Less than a tiny moment was taken to heal the tiny mad idea that seemed to set the Son on His long journey. The time for time is over. Now in eternity does all-encompassing Love flow unimpeded through a universe of spirit created by the Song. Forever shall we flow. And shall our little days as individuals be lost forever in Oneness? Oh no, dear ones. Every loving thought you ever had, every loving deed, is perfectly remembered within the Christ Mind that flows through Heaven. And now we say Amen for the time of learning is over and the time of rejoining has entered eternity, with you my loved ones, with you, and you, and you, and you, with your animals and children and every thought of love that lighted your little mind as an individual. Home safe we are, and we shall never leave again. No more dreams will enchant us. We are Home. Love has found itself at last…at last.

JOSEPH & BLANCHE-jpeg

The Case of Jonah Parr

This story is true but I have changed the names and gotten permission to share the general story which is condensed here. This is the kind of work I have done as a medium. It is sort of like being a psychic social worker but it is one of the things I was given to do. I have a ministerial degree and had pastoral counseling while I was doing my pastoral internship. Then later in life I was trained as a Social Worker by the State of New York and had to counsel abused children and their parents. Later in life when it became obvious that my gifts were mediumistic I helped people with problems on different levels. This case I am sharing with you my friends because it has so much to teach. There is so much cruelty in the world, much of it happening to children. There was and is so much work to do. We are all just big used kids!! I should advise you that this case involves, violence, bad language, and references to terrible acts…but it ends well.

Here is the case of Jonah Parr.

I must explain again that the names and circumstances have been changed so Mr. Parr would feel free to allow me to share his story. All of our life stories are grist for the mill and may help others. The case is true, the names and places have been changed, and Mr. Parr agreed to allow me to use his story.

Jonah Parr telephoned me and asked for my help. He had been having very strange dreams that were terribly confusing. He thought that he might be possessed or he might be having a partial memory of another life time. I quickly consulted my guides to see if I was to work on this man. They gave the OK and I set a time for Mr. Parr to come over for an interview. He was a tall gaunt man who looked like he had just come out of the Great Depression. He wore a well-worn suit, shirt with no tie and no hat. I exchanged pleasantries with him and asked him to sit down.
He was from a large family in Kentucky but had moved to Canada to work in a corporate office. His family of six had lived in the country about two hours East of Bowling Green. His Father had been a part-time minister of a country Pentecostal Church and farmed the rest of the time.
“Could we talk about your Father,” I asked. Jonah fidgeted in his chair and said, “Yeah, I guess so.”
“Was your Father a loving man, Mr. Parr?” Jonah almost bolted out of his chair. He was standing straight up in the room, staring into space.
“Are you uncomfortable talking about your Father, Mr. Parr?”
“Yeah, I am damned uncomfortable, but I’ll talk to you if you can help me.”
That last part had sounded so lost and hopeless. “Well, why don’t you tell me whatever you can about him?”
Jonah began to pace about the room. “He abused people!” He shouted out. “He abused me and my mother, about as much as anyone can be abused. He did it to my sister as well. Nobody could talk about it….Do you want to hear my dreams or not?”
“Yes, sure.”
“Well I have a few that I just keep having. I am crawling on the floor. I can’t walk yet. I crawl into a room and I hear someone shouting, ‘Stop, please stop John. It hurts so much.’ And she was screaming ‘Stop, Stop, Stop.’ I recognized the voice as my mother, Olivia. The man who was on top of her got off and looked down at me. It was my father, John. ‘Why you little peepin Tom rug rat, I ought to drop kick you out of the house! You stay out of this room you little prick head.’ I crawled away.”
Thank you Jonah,” I said. “Let me ask you a little more about your father. Did you love him?”
Jonah looked very conflicted and said, “I don’t know. I feel guilty for not loving him.”
“You said he was a Preacher. How did you feel about that?” I asked
Jonah began to laugh a little but the laughter mixed with tears very soon.
“I hated him,” he sobbed. “I hated him because he was such a hypocrite. On Sundays he would go into that church and make everybody feel like he was so goody goody. We had to play the part of the nice preacher’s family. After the service he would bring us all to him and we would have to shake hands with everybody and pretend we were a happy family. Nobody knew what he was really like. I hated him for that.”

“Can you tell me what he was like?” I asked.
“He was a violent, no good, mother fucker. He cussed at us all like a sailor. He used to say to my brothers, James and Peter, “You worthless little motherfuckers! Look what you have done to me! I used to be somebody but now I am just a nigger for all you.” He told us every day that he hated us and that we were bags of shit, bastards, worthless pimples on his ass.”
“Did he call you names, Mr. Parr?” I asked. Jonah was silent for a minute or so.
“Yeah,” he finally said. But he only called me that someplace I can’t quite remember.”
“That’s OK,” I said, we have plenty of time. James, Peter, you, Mom and Dad, that is five. Who was the sixth person? I asked.
“That was my sister Ellie who was three years older than me.” Jonah grew quiet.
“Did your father also cuss at Ellie,” I asked.
“WHY DON’T YOU JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU WORTHLESS PIECE OF SHIT. I NEVER SHOULD HAVE COME HERE TO BEGIN WITH.” Jonah exploded.
I quickly dowsed my guides to see if I should continue. They said yes, so I quietly said to him, “Mr. Parr, you said on the phone that you wanted my help. Do you still want me help?”
He stood up and just stared for some time and then said, “Yes…I need somebody to help me.” He began to cry and crumple up into a fetal position. “Won’t somebody help me?” He began to sob uncontrollably. I went over to him but did not touch him and quietly said, “I will help you Mr. Parr. He raised his head and spoke through the tears, “Really? Maybe you don’t know what you are getting in for.”
“That’s OK. I have a lot of helpers. We can help you. Are you able to continue?”
He stood up and walked over to a chair and sat down. “Yes, I am able.”
“Would you like some water, or coffee or tea?” I asked.
“Maybe just a glass of water.”
I got it for him and handed it to him. He seemed to be a little more calm.
“Mr. Parr,” I asked, “what was your mother like?”
He grimaced, but he softened and said, “I always loved her. She was gentle and kind. She almost seemed like she was in another world. I don’t know why she stayed with him. She let him use her like a punching bag. It was one thing for him to cuss at us and hit us. It was something else to do that to her!”
“Did your Father abuse your mother, Jonah?”
“ABUSE HER?” he asked in a sardonic voice. “He used to cuss at her the way he did us. If she tried to stand up for us when he came to beat on us, he would say, “I’ll beat you too, Livy.” And he would push her down on the floor. I so wanted to kill him right then. I would go to bed every night and beat my pillow pretending it was his face I was pounding. I would dream of getting his shotgun from his closet and just cut him down one night and laugh over him. I wanted to cut his dick and balls off and ram them up his ass with the shotgun.”
This was very revealing but I knew I could not inquire into it yet.
“Did your Father treat Ellie, the same way?” I asked.
“NOW I TOLD YOU, YOU PIECE OF SHIT NOT TO TALK ABOUT ELLIE! SHE WAS AN INNOCENT LITTLE GIRL. SHE NEVER HURT A LIVING SOUL AND SHE NEVER DESERVED WHAT SHE GOT! NEVER! IF I HAD KILLED HIM IN TIME….”
I asked my angels and guides to send me an angel of peace to come into the room. Soon Jonah began to cry again.
“Jonah? I quietly asked. “Can you tell me about the other dreams you have been having?”
He was silent for a moment and then he said, “I keep dreaming about the puppies,” and he started to weep again.
“Whenever you are ready please tell me about the puppies.” His face lifted up, all full of tears.
“We lived in the country. I told you that. We had about five acres. We had us a cow and two or three pigs, some chickens, and a big garden. We found lots of dogs but Dad would never let us keep em. But one Christmas mama brought home a puppy and told us we could keep it. She said she would find some way to square it with Dad. We named him Buster. We loved that dog because it loved us back. But by the time it had grown a bit we noticed Buster was really a girl. We thought about changing her name but we never did. About a year later we noticed that Buster was getting pretty fat. Mom told us that Buster was getting ready to have puppies. And one day, there in the barn, she did! Five beautiful puppies! It was the greatest happiness any of us kids had ever had. I was four years old at the time. One Sunday morning I was out in the barn playing with the puppies when mother called to me:
Mother: Jonah, come in and get ready for church. (Jonah comes inside and dresses in a little white shirt and dark trousers).
Father: (John Parr is 6 feet tall and 220 lbs.) “Jonah come here. Let me put your tie on.” (Jonah comes to him and he clips on a little tie.)
Mother: Are all you ready? We’re gonna be late for Sunday School.
When we came back from church we were sitting at the dinner table when mom asked:

Livey: what are we going to do with all those puppies? We cain’t keep um.

John: (chuckles between big bites, speaks with his mouth full) You just leave that to me Livey.
Jonah: Mother why can’t we keep the puppies?

Livey: Because Jonah, We are poor. We don’t have the food to feed all those puppies. They grow up to be big dogs and we cain’t feed all them. (Jonah is silent. The family finishes dinner.)
Livey: Ellie you wash the dishes and let Jonah dry.
Jonah: (speaks loudly for him) Oh Mother I want to go outside and play with the puppies.
John: You do what your Mother says Jonah or I’ll box you.

“Jonah, you have talked about physical violence, what did that phrase mean, ‘I’ll box you!’”
“When the old man wanted to,” said Jonah, “he would knock us around. His favorite punch was his fist to my face, or a back hand. He liked that one too. He would hit me and send me flying across the room. I was four years old. Sometime he liked to blister me with his belt, and at other times, a limb of a tree. He would always pull my shorts down and hit me right on the butt. He really liked my butt.”

“How did he like your butt?” I asked very gently. Jonah turned white and said, “I have had other dreams.”
“Could you tell me those dreams, Jonah?” I asked
“I don’t know.” He seemed very cautious
“You may hate me if I tell you the dream.”
I spoke very slowly and gently to his inner child. I told him this time and place had been given to us as a safe place where dreams could be told and no judgments made.
“Well, if I tell you, will you promise not to think I am a bad man?”
“Yes,” I said, “most definitely.”

“In the dream I am little again, about three years old. Bath time, bath time, bath time, water running. Mom is gone. The old man sent her shopping. Bath time. The old man comes into my room without a stitch of clothes on. I think I have seen him this way before but I’m not sure. His penis is so big. He looks like a giant. He takes all my clothes off and I am standing there naked with him. My head doesn’t even come up to his penis. He says, “We are going to take a bath together. You are big enough now. We are going to always bathe together.”
“Then I remembered that my older brothers had gone into the bathroom with him too, but they never talked about it. He took me by the hand into the bathroom. He turned on the water to fill the tub. Then he just looked at me. The way he looked at me scared me. Then he began to use his hand on his penis and pretty soon it was standing out straight. I was scared. He got in the bathtub first and spread his legs. His big penis was stranding straight up in the air between his legs. He told me to get in the tub and sit between his legs. As soon as I did he pulled me back into him. I could feel his hard penis pushing at me. I was really scared. Then he reached around me and picked up my little penis and said, “You just have a little tiny prick that is good for nothing. Feel mine.” And he put his penis up against my butt. He seemed to like my butt. Then he picked me up by my shoulders and sat me down on his big penis. I started to cry and call for mom, but she was not there and my brothers didn’t come.
“I am just going to give you a little taste tonight. I am just going to stick the head of my dick up your butt.”
All I remember then is pain and crying for mom. He got out of the tub and looked at me and said, “You didn’t give me any pleasure at all, you little shit, you little no good prick.”
“Is that when he called you a name Jonah” I asked
“HOW DID YOU KNOW THAT? I NEVER SAID ANYTHING ABOUT IT! YOU BETTER NOT TELL ANYONE WHAT HE CALLED ME!” Jonah was screaming.
“Was the name he called you different from the other curse words he used?” I asked
“Fuck you. How did you know? You fucking asshole!” Jonah spouted.
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to Jonah. It’s OK”
“OK. You wanna know? He called me “precious.” “PRECIOUS!” WHEN HE STUCK THE HEAD OF HIS DICK INTO MY BUTT HE CALLED ME PRECIOUS!” BUT I GUESS I DIDN’T PLEASE HIM ENOUGH BECAUSE I WASN’T PRECIOUS VERY LONG.”
Jonah began to cry and go into a fetal position. I comforted him. All of this had taken place in thirty minutes. Jonah had been dying to tell someone who would not judge him. I was about to go into a gentle close of the session when Jonah said, “Now do you want to know about the puppies?”
“Do you feel like you want to tell me?”
“Yeah, you gotta know.”
“That Sunday afternoon when I was four, Dad told all us kids to take an afternoon nap. When we got up he told us all to come out to the tool shed. When we got there, there was Buster and her puppies and Dad with a hammer in his hand. He said, ‘I told you not to get a dog. We cain’t afford em. Buster this is your last day on earth,’ and he hit her on the head hard with the hammer. She cried and then fell silent. ‘Now boys, each of you are going to take one of these puppies and knock it in the head.’ He gave the hammer to James, who began to cry. ‘Hush up,’ said the old man, ‘or I’ll give you something to cry about.’ He picked up a puppy and set it on the concrete right underneath James. ‘Now hit the damn thing, James,’ he screamed. ‘HIT IT! HIT THE LITTLE MOTHER FUCKER! HIT IT!’ But James wouldn’t hit it so Dad hit him. He hit him with his fist right in the mouth and knocked James out of the tool shed. So he gave the hammer to Peter and said ‘HIT IT YOU PRICK OR I’LL KILL YOU!’
“Peter was crying but he hit the puppy and it died. ‘NOW YOU PEE WEE,’ as he hands me the hammer,’ HIT THAT ONE THERE! HIT IT YOU LITTLE PUSSY. HIT IT. HIT IT. HIT IT. HIT IT. HIT IT. HIT IT YOU LITTLE PRICK.’ So finally I hit it. It fell and cried and then it stopped crying. I so wanted to take that hammer and kill Dad with it. I wanted to see him fall down and cry and then die! WHY DID THE PUPPIES HAVE TO DIE? WHY? WHY? WHAT HAD THEY DONE TO BE KILLED SO HORRIBLY?”

“Jonah, you have experienced horrible things. Your mind has gotten confused over how to understand it all. When all of this happened you had the mind of a child. Children are not supposed to experience terrible things like these. Now I am going to tell you some things that are absolutely True. Listen.
You are not responsible for your father’s abuse. He is responsible for it. He had power over you and made you do things. You have not failed anyone and you are not a bad man. You were injured by your father because he was a bad man. You have nothing to feel guilty for.”
“But I let him do terrible things to me. I AM guilty.”
“Jonah, when you are that small you cannot stand up for yourself. Your parents are supposed to stand up for you. In your case, they were too sick to do that. But you are not to blame and you have nothing to be guilty for. You are as God created you. You are beloved as a Son of God.
“These dreams are not former lives or evidence of spirit attachment. They are your mind asking for help in solving these incongruities that your child mind could not solve. If we find anything more spiritistic we will deal with it. How does that sound?”
“So then you will help me?” he asked in almost the same tone as in the beginning.
“Yes, Jonah, I will be honored to help you. We can figure all this out. Would it be OK with you if we had just a short period of silence before we go?”
“Sure, I guess.”
I closed my eyes and went into spirit and asked my guides to bring in Jonah’s guides and healing spirits to work with us. I also called for an angel to come just to protect Jonah. He came. I asked for guidance to be able to bring about the greatest possible good for Jonah.

Do you think you will be able to sleep tonight?” I asked.
“My doctor gave me some meds to get me to sleep.”
“That’s good. Try to listen to relaxing music tomorrow and I will see you at 2:00PM the next day.
“Thank you. I can’t believe I actually told you all that stuff,” Jonah said
“I’ll be happy to see you day after tomorrow. If you have any problems or anxiety, please call me, OK?”
“OK, thanks. Bye.”
“Goodbye for now Jonah. See you soon.”

The Next Session

“It’s nice to see you again, Jonah. Would you like something to drink?”
“Water is all, as usual.”
“Then water it shall be.”

“Did you sleep well Jonah?”
“Not bad. I took those meds and I don’t remember any dreams…just as well.”
“Well, hopefully you won’t need that medication very much.”
“I see from my notes that you are 55 now. Are you mother and father still alive?”
“Ah Christ no. Mom died of leukemia ten years ago and the old man croaked from Alzheimer’s last year.”
“And what about your siblings, James, Peter and Ellie?” Jonah became very quiet.
“James died of a drug overdose when he was 29 and Peter joined the Army and was killed in Iraq. He was blown up by a land mine. There was nothing left to bury.”
“I am very sorry to hear this Jonah. Did you have a positive relationship with them?”
“Not much. When we got old enough to leave home, we all just sort of went crazy and scattered to the wind. None of us ever got past high school. James didn’t even graduate. I tried to go into business. I would do OK for a while but just when I was about to make it to the top something would happen to knock me back down again. This job I got now in Hawaii is going pretty good so far…as long as I don’t advance too far.”
“And what about Ellie? How is she?”
Jonah was silent.
“It’s OK.” I said. “We can talk about her later when it feels right.”
“It is never going to be OK Mr. Shore…James, Peter and I tried to protect Ellie from Dad but we were just kids. My sister was a sweet girl. She was innocent. She had beautiful, long blonde hair and a perky little smile. She was really popular in school and she was doing well…until she was about seven. We heard the doors creak at night. Her bedroom was next to mine. We got out of bed and went into the hall. There he was, right at her door. ‘You little bastards get back to bed before I kill all of you,’ he screamed at us. No way Mom didn’t hear it. He went into Ellie’s room. We heard her cries, ‘No Daddy don’t. I don’t want to do that.’ Then the sound of a slap and crying, and the old man’s voice, ‘Now put this in your mouth and suck on it. It’s good for you!’ There was just the sound of whimpering until Ellie screamed, ‘Daddy don’t. It hurts too much.’ And the old man moaning, ‘You’re my woman now Ellie. Your mother’s no good. It’s just you and me now. We’re going to do this every night.’”
“And he did…every night. When Ellie was 17 she got Dad’s shotgun one day while he was at work and shot herself. James, Peter and I decided we would kill him then. James attacked him straight on but the old man beat the shit out of him. Peter and I decided we would wait for our chance. The old man had a 1953 Nash Rambler that he took to work every day. We decided we would cut half way through his brake hose. If we were lucky he would find a last resting place in some ditch. He went into the ditch alright, but he survived. We left home then and the rest brings me here.”

“I am so very sorry Jonah,” as I fumbled for words.
“Jonah you came to me because I am a medium I would like to try to help you as a medium. Would that be OK?”
“Any help, any help, please,” Jonah choked out the words.
“The first thing I am seeing Jonah is that your father put a generational curse on you when he abused you in that bathtub as a toddler! Some father figure did that to him back there in the woods and he passed it on. Let’s get rid of it, from off your back!”
I went into spirit and asked help from all my spirit guides and angels to remove this generational curse. We did it. It was removed.
“How do you feel now Jonah?” I asked
“Oh my…I feel like a terrible weight has been taken off me!”
“Yes,” I said, “it has been and there is nothing from that curse left to hold you back. That curse had made you feel guilty and you projected that guilt on to the authorities in your life. You saw them as evil so that you wouldn’t have to feel guilty yourself. But as you can see, it didn’t work. It just kept you from making a success of your business life. Now you are free to accomplish what you want.
“Jonah, do you think now you could look back on that bathroom abuse and see who was to blame?”
“How?” he asked.
“Just begin to visualize your life moving backwards and see if you can look at that scene so etched in your mind. But this time you see it, you are in a safe place. Your spirit guides and angels go back with you. Look at that awful scene and tell me who is at fault?”
It took him only a minute, “My old man, of course. I didn’t do anything wrong!”
“Right,” I said. “You were just a child. A bad thing happened to you to be sure, but it was not your fault, was it?”
‘”NO…IT WAS NOT MY FAULT,” he exclaimed as though he were really getting it!!!
“Now,” I said, “take a look at that little boy there in the bathroom.” What would you like to tell him? You can now. Spirit will help you to tell him something from your heart.
Jonah looked hesitant at first, but then I saw his eyes light up just as his guides came into the room. “I want to tell him,” Jonah began. “I want to say to him, ‘little Jonah’? You don’t know me but I know you. I want you to know that I love you, and others you don’t even know love you too. You have the strength to face these awful hurdles and make your way through the roughest of tests. I am going to be watching you and I am going to keep reminding you that I love you.”
“How did that feel Jonah,” I asked. He began to cry, but these tears were good ones.
“It felt like I really helped that little boy,” he said.
“Yes, and you did help that little boy and you will continue helping him through his life,” I said with some moist eyes of my own.
“But now we may need to make trips back for others there in that home,” I said. You need to speak truth to that family. We will take our time and we will go with spirit. Your and my guides, healing angels, guardian angels, are all here to take the trips with you and make it safe. Who would be the next person you would like to speak to back there?”
His eyes filled up and he said, “Ellie, of course.” We did the meditation and were soon there in Ellie’s room. “Ask spirit,” I said, to put your words into her mind.
“Ellie? Can you hear me? I love you. I have come to tell you the truth from my heart. You are a wonderful being. I can even say now, thanks to the help from some new friends, that you are God’s child, filled with His goodness and Love. I know bad things are happening to you, but just hold on. You have angels working overtime on you. Don’t give up! Don’t let the sadness and hurt win over you. Have faith that life will bring you something good! Please, believe me. I love you.”
As Jonah spoke those words to Ellie, my angels showed her to me in spirit. She was shining and gleaming with blond hair and a full smile. In her arms were five puppies, all very much alive. On either side of her stood guardian angels and to the sides there was a great throng of angels, praising God, and proclaiming, “Only Love is real.” I was so overcome, I burst into my own tears and told Jonah the scene I was seeing in Spirit.
“Can I see her,” he said. I asked my guides and angels if they could make this possible.
“Take one hand and put it between my eyes, and the other on the top of my head. Close your eyes and ask to see Ellie.”
“I see her, I see her, I see her. I see the puppies, the puppies, all alive and well. I love you Ellie. I love you. Now you are in your true Home and only Love will be your portion. I am so happy, so happy. You are alive. YOU ARE ALIVE!”
As he saw her, the angels on either side of her began to ascend with her while the choirs of angels sang the praises of God. We continued in this state of grace for quite some time. When we came out of it, we were both shining.
Jonah Parr became an executive Vice President with his company and married very late in life to a wonderful woman. They live now on five acres in Langley BC with many dogs, cats and other beasties that flock to their light! 

Image may contain: Teresa Dopyera, smiling

Healing and the Chakras

I am going to share with you some information that spiritual healers have. You may not know that in Brasil one used to have a choice of going to a regular hospital and be treated by modern medicine or going to a Spiritist hospital and be treated by mediums. Many diseases, they found, were caused at the spiritual level. In the course of working as a healer I have learned a bit about this subject. For example, a woman came to me who was having relationship troubles. She always seemed to pick the “wrong man” for a relationship. I did a reading of her and discovered she had a lot of upper chakras closed. The Crown, The Third Eye, the Throat and the Heart chakras were all closed. I explained this to her and asked her if she wanted me to open them. I did. I tossed a little chi on them and commanded them to open. No big deal for me to do. But at the end of the session I checked her again and they were closed back again. Then I realized my mistake. I had not consulted with Spirit before opening them. I had a good chat with her guides and found out that her upper chakras were closed karmically as part of this life’s plan. Because of her karma in a former life her upper chakras were shut for this lifetime. Counseling her had to take a different route!

I have found that certain chakra closings are also associated with certain neurological impairments. For example, those with asperger’s syndrome and autism had their upper chakras closed. The closing of the chakras was karmic, due to a former life, and the chakra closings manifested as asperger’s or autism. Again, no amount of chi could open those chakras and keep them open.

I have also encountered people who have ALL of their chakras karmically closed!!! I didn’t know one could be alive with them ALL closed. Further dowsing of one individual with this condition showed that he had “sold his soul,” so to speak, to the Dark Side. If you believe in the devil then this guy sold his soul to him! I was aware of an extreme amount of negative energy when I was around this fellow and he had a wall I could not penetrate.

Now this one I am about to tell you may be controversial. I was given permission to dowse Donald Trump. Trump also has ALL of his chakras closed by karma.

Chakras can be seen by Polycontrast Interference Photography, invented by Dr. Harry Oldfield and utilized within the British medical system.

Death does not give you Enlightenment

The tendencies we have NOW in thought carry with us at the death of the physical body. We don’t get advanced just by dropping our bodies. Nothing significant happens to us when we drop the body. We are still a mind believing we are separate with all of our perceptions still in tact. How we advance depends on our willingness to work with spirit in that realm of mind, and that is affected by our patterns of thought when we were alive! As you know, I am a medium and I often contact those spirits who have dropped their bodies. One of my dear friends in opera dropped his body at the age of 82. Of course, I felt loss just like everyone does. But within a week after his passing, I was awakened in the night by his spirit contacting me. I followed his voice in spirit and zipped right up into the mid-Astral and found him in a hall with other great singers. It was not a fancy hall. It could have been any meeting hall here on earth but all the great opera singers in history were there. That is what my friend wanted, apparently, and that is what he got, He was young–about 30–tall and slender, and having the time of his “life” talking with all the great singers who had passed over before him. I talked with him briefly there in that hall and inquired about a Metropolitan Opera coach who we both knew, who had passed away a few years before. My friend laughed and said, “I don’t think she came up here. I think she went down,” and he pointed down and laughed, but it wasn’t a laugh of derision or judgment. It was just a recognition that where we were was still in illusion!! For many months I could not communicate with my friend. My angels told me that he was having great fun exploring the universe. He had been a scientist in life as well as a singer. Then a couple of weeks ago I heard from him again. He and I had developed some grievances while he was alive and they began to be aired with one another. He had been a very insecure person psychologically in life, and so he was also in death. After playing around in the universe for a while he came right back to the mid-Astral, very close to earth and very much still invested in the perception of duality. The year before he died his insecurity had bubbled over. He would call me up and ask me to assure him that he was the greatest bass ever! I would say, “Well, you were one of the greatest basses in the 20th century.” That was not enough. Week after week he would call me and interrogate me in the same manner. After he died his “personality,” now disembodied, continued with that line of insecurity. The other day I was listening to one of his recordings and artistically appraising it. His spirit jumped right in, trying to defend his work from my appraisal.

What illusions we have here we need to work on here because otherwise we carry them into spirit and they are harder to work on there!!!!!!!

Birth and Spirit

When your mother was carrying you, you were hovering around, sometimes nearby, sometimes following where she went and always looking in on the baby inside her. As a spirit you thought about your many lives you have lived before and your decision to live again, this time with this mother and father and the history you would be a part of. Even before you made the plunge and joined that little body inside her womb, you felt your mother’s love for you. You felt her little pats, the hugs of her body as she carried you. You watched what she ate and enjoyed her pleasure at eating those dill pickles. As she walked through the park you went with her, flying just over the tops of the trees. You weren’t quite ready to make the plunge yet and enter that tiny body. (In Dr. Joel Whitton’s book, Life between Life, hypnotized patients recalled their experiences like these before they were born.) You watched your father too and got a good feeling for him. It was the quality of the love shared by your mother and father that sent a message into the spirit world which you applied to accept, to come here again and have another lifetime that would give you lessons you need to learn. Your mother provided so much of your early training. Her breast milk would feed you, not just with nourishment, but with oxytocin, the love neurotransmitter. You would learn love from your mother’s breast milk. But nine months before that oxytocin played a huge part in your process. When your father sent his sperm to join with your mother’s egg, oxytocin was released with his sperm! See, there is just no way, you can get away without love! 
Then came the big day, probably somewhere around the last trimester, and you decided to join that little body in mother’s womb. There were angels around you helping you take a deep breath and jump! Your mother felt it when you landed into her! She called to your father to tell him. He ran over to your mother and placed his hand on her tummy. More oxytocin was released!!!!!! You settled down in that little body in the womb and sort of took a cat nap, aware but comfortable, like you remember a former life, being in your jammies in an old chair. Boy (or Girl!) did you get to know your mom!!!!!!!! Every thought she had. Every feeling, every hope, every joy and every fear. That’s OK as long as there was not too much fear. You had a chance to sympathize and empathize with her during that last period before the BIG DAY! BIRTH!!!!!! You had been floating so nicely, bobbing and weaving within that nice pool of amniotic fluid. But now earthquakes!!! The sides were shrinking and you were being pushed down. Your mom was getting a little scared but dad was there smiling like everything was cool! You were being pushed and shoved through a tunnel but there was a light at the end of it. There was only one way you could go, like you were being flushed!! Out you came flying like a greased pig at the fair! Then this alien in a white space suit grabs you and spanks your bum!! It hurt and you began to cry!!! But then the big alien guy layed you on your mother’s chest and you just knew those nipples were made for you! You docked on and out came the best oxytocin you have ever tasted…and the milk was great too, as sweet as cotton candy and plenty of it! That was day one of your new life on earth! Wow, back another time for another go round of tests and lessons! Another chance to learn to love yourself and others. Another lesson simply to learn to be kind to everyone. You may get 60 or 70 or 80 years to learn this so pay attention! The time will fly away.  Then you will fly away too but the love you have learned you get to take with you! 

baby3

A Letter to the Father

Many of you know the story of how I went to seminary and intended to be a professor; how I felt deeply I was in the wrong place but didn’t know where the right place was. One of my dorm mates was an opera buff who had every opera record under the sun and listened to them morning, noon, and night. I listened with him for the year and a half I was there. Something about those great voices grabbed me down deep somewhere in my psyche and I bought some and began listening to opera while I was studying. Then one evening, a strange thing (for me then) happened. I clearly heard an inner voice say to me “your characters could be your sermons; the stage could be your pulpit; the theatre could be your church; the audience could be your congregation.” Now go put feet to your faith.” This shocked me! Baptists do not hear voices! Maybe Pentecostals do but not us Baptists. You have to understand that I had never had any serious voice lessons. I sang in choirs and sounded no better than anyone else. But just before I heard the voice, I remember praying almost through tears, “Father please tell me what to do. I don’t feel like I belong here.” Maybe that is why I believed it. I took a little step by faith. This was a new kind of ministry. I left seminary and got a job. When I wasn’t working I was listening to opera. This went on about six months until finally one day I opened my mouth to see if I could make a sound like those guys on the records, and out came the operatic voice I have had since! A friend came by and said “Hey, you’ve got quite a voice. You ought to enter the Met Auditions.” I didn’t know what they were but I said sure. I filled out the application, got some music for some hard bass arias and set to learning them by listening to records. I went down to sing the first level of the Met Auditions in Tulsa and had no expectations. I just sang and was named one of the winners. I was even given an apprenticeship with the Santa Fe Opera and the Tulsa Opera sponsored me and gave me grants. I thought to myself, “Gee, this opera business is a snap.” I had absolutely no social preparation to help me deal with this new profession. And I found out that not everybody would like me. I would have real enemies to fight. But I did my best, sang big roles in big houses. I made some mistakes and after singing in this world 11 years I made a personal mistake that took me off the stage. I kept thinking I would find a way to get back on, but I never did. I became a university teacher instead. But all through this era my heart was aching that I had failed in this new ministry that I had been divinely given. Friends were well meaning when they said, “It’s all in the past. Just move on!” But they didn’t understand the miracle I had been given and how deeply it had hurt me to feel I had not fulfilled what I had been given. I was still a minister at heart even when I was an opera singer.

Today, I wrote a letter to God and made a little boat with my recordings in it and my reviews, and I set it on the ocean when the tide was going out. I am going to share with you that letter.

Dearest Father,
I know that you know my thoughts and that you are here now as I type these words, but it is good for me to write to you this way. I love you with all my heart Father even though I scarcely know how to love, even scarcely know what it is. But you know me and knew me since before all time when I was and still am a part of you. I am a thought in your mind. It feels like I have been away from you a long time, but I know that is not true. I have just been dreaming a dream which to me seems long, but it really was over a long time ago. I am not making very much sense am I? I feel your heart in mine, dear Father. I have almost come for the time to leave this body and set sail again within the world of spirit. It is all a part of the dream which you can’t know because you know that I am safely inside your Mind. Thoughts leave not their thinker. But the Holy Spirit came with me into my dream. He witnessed my birth into this imaginary world. He saw how I so often thought of you. He saw as I viewed my part in my dream as a hero who would help people to remember you. He saw our Song awaken in my heart and formalize itself into a singer in this dream world. My career as an opera singer was the most important thing in my life because you gave me the gift to sing. Your Holy Spirit told me in Seminary that “my characters could be my sermons; the stage could be my pulpit; the theatre could be my church; the audience could be my congregation.” Then your Holy Spirit said to me, “Now go put feet to your faith.” I believed it Father. I knew it was True and that it came from you. I went into this strange, cruel, but wonderful world of opera and I sang with all my heart. I was surprised when some people didn’t like me, because my voice was from you. Along the way I sang as best as I could and I thought of you every time before I went on stage. I made some personal mistakes which I know you have forgiven me for. But I had a hard time forgiving myself for them. They took me out of the world of opera and took away my stage where I had my church. I felt like such a failure. I so wanted to use my voice to help others awaken. I thought my tears would never end for the loss of my career as a singer. You could not know my dream, of course, though you knew I was dreaming. But the Holy Spirit saw and felt everything that happened to me. He saw my tears and my broken heart. He saw the way I had to work in a cruel, cruel world of opera where the men who ran it were asleep in their own dreams of indifference, hatred and usury.
But Father, after the dream of opera changed, I learned more and remembered more. A new dream of awakening into love’s Presence came to me. On the shores of Burnaby Lake with beautiful ducks and geese, birds and fish, water and flowers, I remembered us more. That dream of awakening is still playing out in me. Father, I loved singing, but I give it back to you now as my gift to you. Here in this little boat that I have set adrift to the ocean, there is a computer stick, with all my songs, and all my reviews. They are my gift of thanks back to you for the song we share. Now I will finish the work I began at Burnaby Lake. I will fully remember you and see the face of Christ in all my brothers, even the dark ones who dream nightmares, and who will laugh at the silly old man who writes to God. But that is OK. I do not care. We can speak now all the time if you want Father. I have nothing on my mind but you…and my brothers because I keep seeing the face of Christ in them!

Your Loving Son,
Joseph

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