My religion is a religion of sharing, not of following. It is a religion of LOVE.
When I was ten years old, I was learning about the real meaning of faith. Our little A-frame church had a tapestry above the pulpit, in bold purple letters, stating that the “greatest virtue of them all” was faith.
I asked my mother, father and my Sunday School teacher to explain to me exactly what faith meant.
The answer was clear; to know, deep in your heart, that your belief is true.
All my life, up to that point, my upbringing told me to believe in God, Christ and Heaven. As far as I could remember, I had never actually seen or heard any one of them. Sure, I was beginning to understand that a beautiful day was God, my mother’s beautiful singing was God and Jesus was always with me. I had no proof. Nothing tangible.
As for Heaven . . . what did I know of this? It was in the sky and everything there; including my grandparents, are happy, safe and live in bliss. I wasn’t sure, exactly, what that meant, though.
Every night, of course, I said my prayers and according to our minister, I could pray for whatever I wanted. I asked for a sign. A sign to let me know, without doubt, that Jesus was really there. That He was really true and not just in my imagination.
You see, I had prayed for quite a few things and many of them didn’t come to me. I prayed a lot, too. Also, as my mother taught me, I was grateful for all the things I did have or received. Still, if God could do everything, and I had faith, how come not everything happened as I prayed?
What I wanted most, though, was true faith. I wanted so much to believe. And I was finding that very difficult because I couldn’t see God, Jesus or even Heaven. I saw the sky, no doubt, but I didn’t see my grandparents or my Uncle Pete who was the first person I ever knew to die. He died when I was seven years old. One night, about a year after he died, Mom and I saw Uncle Pete and his truck on the side of the road. We both saw him clearly and he waved at us! When we turned around and went back, there was no truck and no Uncle Pete. Thus, to my mind, he wasn’t in Heaven; he was there, in Phoenix, AZ, waving at us!
My nightly ritual continued, asking God and Jesus for a sign. Sometimes I would ask them for a specific sign and I often got it. For example, I’d admonish, “If you’re really there, make my curtains move!” And they did!
Nevertheless, I wanted something a little more obvious, unmistakable. Perhaps, the air conditioner was making my curtains move? I prayed.
One Wednesday afternoon, Mom and I went to the church so she could rehearse her solo for the next Sunday. The organist, Marie, was there before we arrived and the three of us moved to the front pew. My mother and Marie, at the organ, began the rehearsal. I was drawing pictures on a sketch pad, and periodically looking up to the large brown cross hovering over the altar above the pulpit.
It was a good time to talk to God and repeat my prayer for a sign.
About that time, a huge breeze swept up the aisle between the pews and whipped my hair into my face. An impossibility as we were far into the church, and the only doors were too far way to create such a huge gush of air.
Nevertheless, I thought Mom and Marie had felt it too. I figured they must’ve noticed; it was so strong! I also thought the minister had come in and somehow created the wind tunnel.
As I, alone, turned to see where the wind came from, at the back pew I saw an angel!!!
She, at least that’s what I assumed, was floating several inches above the ground; looking up at the cross and going towards it. She was completely white from head to toe with a flowing gown and glistening white all around her. Not really wings, more like a gossamer aura encompassing her whole being. In her clasped hands, she held a candle with a flickering pure white flame.
I was staring, in awe, at her. I felt paralyzed. Inside my mind, my mother warned me about doubting saying it wasn’t right. Part of me thought God was punishing me by scaring me so much.
As that thought crossed my mind, though, the gentle and beautiful angel looked at me, smiled at me with a nod of her head and the message I heard in the Christmas story came into my whole body. “Be not afraid, my child.”
Immediately, I could move again and a tremendous feeling of love and peace came over me. My angel continued on her journey toward the cross and disappeared just above the pulpit.
I put my head against my mother’s comforting shoulder and cried . . . for happiness. I now had complete faith. I knew I was not alone and am protected and guided.
It took a while to tell my mother the whole story as I was in a blissful place for a day or two. When I told her about my angel, she believed me. It made me happy as I had often been scolded for having too big of an “imagination” and often buzzing out in school to daydream. It was incredible to be believed and accepted for my gifts, when that wasn’t always the case.
My mother or Marie did not see or feel anything. My mother, to this day, tells me that the angel was there for me and that is why only I was able to see her. Yet, she still believes me!
A blessing indeed!
VISIONS: A Psychic/Medium Views on Organized Religion
By Angela Theresa Egic
I believe in the Bible . . . I believe it was written by men who had low opinions of women (most of them), nearly 100 years after Jesus walked around and said incredible things . . . I believe the stories were worded by the authors, to express their bias opinion, most of the time. In short, how they interpreted the words of a man some 100-years passed on and his words handed down from mouth to mouth to mouth. I know God/Source didn’t write it. Sure it’s in-spired! BUT, so is every book written before, during or after the time of the many scrolls of the Bible!
And, yes, there are incredible things in the Bible (and other books) — which probably should be heeded, are comforting and are good rules to live by. Yet, the Bible still allows that if a woman marries and she is found to not be a virgin, she can be stoned to death. A man, on the other hand, by Bible rules, has all the rights.
I also like to quote and sometimes try to live by the words and examples of Dr. Wayne Dyer, Doreen Virtue, Goethe, Shakespeare, some of the men in the Bible, Sylvia Browne and Julia Cameron, my mother, my father. Number one, though, I live by the beliefs and values of myself. I have valid points.
Nevertheless, I do not agree with every single word that came from my mother, Dr. Wayne Dyer or any of my guru’s. They, too, have opinions of which I do not agree. Many I do.
I have strong feelings about religion, the dogma – I enjoy some ritual(s) and/or rites developed by the churches and/or other spiritual practices and religions; some are valid for me and some is just not my cup of tea; because I can think. Much of it is ridiculous to an intelligent mind.
As much as I believe in a Higher Power, which is not some man in the sky…I know we are part of it; in fact, we are it — along with the plants, animals, soul strength and every other living source or being on the earth, and beyond the earth. Yes, we are G.O.D.; we are of the energy that surrounds the Universe.
One of my guru’s gave me the greatest explanation:
G.O.D., the Universe, Source is a beautiful cloud; then, when we incarnate, we are the drops of rain and pieces of cloud that come down here to experience physical life. We are the bravest souls! Truly, living a life incarnate where there is pain, horror, judgment and illness is a brave adventure for any soul to take on!
The only true judgment, of course, is when we crossover and we, our self, review our lifetime. I often say that hell is living here, on earth, and having to put up with the proselytizing groups trying to save my soul! If heaven is filled with these pests, I’d rather be in hell with the fun people!
My relatives, strangers and friends – of the dogmatic sects of Christianity; including my own mother – have verbally attacked me, argued and mostly judged me: I suspect, they feel they must “spread the Gospel” according to their standard and make me comply. Otherwise, they have not done their job to raise me, teach me and guide me to be a docile follower such as they are!
No, thank you!
Why I’m always amazed at the closed-minded fundamentalist’s attitudes of my very family? I’ve seen those very beliefs drive people to depression, suicide, mental illness and unhappy lives. When I was a Sunday School teacher, I became a very depressed, anorexic mess who nearly died at the age of 20-years-old!
If it’s a sin to be who you really are – faggot, dyke, single, slutty, childless, and psychic, actor, musician, and artist – then, let me be the sinner! As long as I can be who I am, then, fuck anyone who wants to tell me different. As long as my actions do not break the laws of the lands [murder, embezzlement, rape, robbery, abuse]; well, who are you, or them, to judge?
As the song in the musical, Rent tells us, “It’s between God and me!”
The proselytizing assholes in the tunnel at Port Authority, spouting their fire and brimstone, how we are all such vile sinners; drawings of people with bandages on every limb, walking with crutches to illustrate how not following “their way” leads to dis-ease, abuse and plague upon your very body – make me want to beat some sense into them! Their promises are not very inviting … if this “God” they’re selling me is going to do that to me for not following, or questioning; well, he’s a fucking bully!!! I don’t give in to bully’s!
Now, my proselytizing relatives . . . they’re of the sect that leaves no room for psychic gifts, those who speak to the dead or angels, at least, those of us who hear them! Yes, I have relatives who are exceptions to the rule; yet, we probably fit on one hand. Most of my relatives are “God-fearing”. I have never, nor ever will, understand being afraid of an unconditional loving source. If He, it or they love us unconditionally, why should we “fear” them! I fear living human beings with knives, guns and an agenda of war, forcing change and judging us who are different. Even my relatives who think it is their job to “save me.” When such zealous types get too much into religion, and they feel one is a sinner, they often feel justified in destroying the sinner’s physical body to save their soul.
My relatives may not murder me, yet, similar to the zealots who shoot doctors who perform abortions – claiming it was God who told them they could because they are “saving lives”, when really they took a life that had been here for 30 to 80-years and not a few weeks in the womb – Bible-thumpers — who are usually men – and think, once again, it is their right to put their finger, or other parts, in my vagina and in those of all other women; I know I want no part of such closed-minded, single-minded, stupid nonsense. My relatives, and others, seem to want to kill my joy, murder my spirituality and call it sin – when it hurt no human or animal, it brings joy and guidance to millions. My gifts and my beliefs are for all…unconditional, safe and non-judgmental. We don’t proselytize, force or threaten you with fire, brimstone, stoning, hatred, anger for not complying with our ways. We guide, love you and let you choose your path. We don’t sick Satan on you or dis-ease. We enlighten, we guide if asked. Unlike those who want to call me “mislead” or “sinner” or “wrong” or “damned.”
So be it, then, my cousins and aunts, and uncles – then, all right I am damned. I will be in hell with all the Broadway stars, the gifted healers, psychics, mediums; pets – the homosexuals, the transgendered, the party-singles, the sexually fun, all the entertainers – bound to be fun!
In case, it wasn’t clear, hell doesn’t exist, either. This punishment my family fears doesn’t exist, anyway, not like they talk. Hell is here, a hell we chose – brave souls being inside a human body that can feel pain, emotion, physical and mental pain.
Death is not punishment, it is freedom! The soul is free, once again. It’s beautiful! I speak from experience, too! I had a near-death experience when I was 15-years-old. It is not, at all, what religious groups think it is – a punishment; it is a gift to return to our true essence.
We all go there! At least, if we do not purposely hurt others and are generally doing the best we know. For those who do purposely hurt others – as in murderers, rapists, embezzlers and perhaps those trying to force their beliefs on us – they do get judged, they judge themselves; with a group of souls who want to help.
Enlightened souls, us who are true to who we are in this life, get choices – we can come back here, if we choose or learn more. That’s heaven, having a choice. Hell is not having a choice of whether to come back here – to live in a human body; lower souls, who hurt others on purpose, have to come back. They get no choice. Which, all right…yes. Hell.
To my relatives, friends and those who wish to judge me. Keep it to yourself! Say no prayers for me, as I don’t need those types of prayers.
If you pray for me . . . you are welcome to pray for me to have abundance, love, light and joy in my life. Pray for me and all others to be able to freely be who we are, all the time, without judgment, without hatred, without prejudice from you or others.
Otherwise, say no prayers for me. My soul is saved, by me . . . and the angels, guides, saints, the Gods, Buddha, Allah, Jesus, the Powers-That-Be, Source, those who have passed-on, unconditional love and self-love (confidence).
As for what I am: I am spiritual, I am Christian, I am Atheist, I am Buddhist, , I am Jewish, I am Islamic, I am Muslim, I am Gay, I am Straight, I am Transgendered, I am Woman, I am Man, I am me, I am, I am God, I am Jesus, I am the Chosen One, I am a Psychic, I am a Medium, I am alone, I am you, I am all that is, I am the wind, I am the water, I am them, I am us, I am an actor, I am a singer, I am the animals . . . and I am all of that and none of those!
I just am!
Hello my friends . . .
Book your readings today . . . there’s so much to learn:
DISCLAIMER: Yesterday, when I originally posted this story — from the pages of my memories, and my drawings, from some 30-something years of keeping to myself. Well, I contacted Mr. Patz so that if any of the information I picked up years ago would be of interest or ring some sort of bell; I just wanted him to know. This was not wise. I offended him. And I, in no way, wish to add to the pain of the Patz family. They have been living with this tragedy for 30-something years.
Thus, first, my public apology for contacting Mr. Patz. I really should have left him to his privacy. And apologies for anything I published or said that has and/or will offend you.
Mr. Patz (Stan) contacted me, same day, and said he preferred I take down the whole article; and corrected me on information (from my cloudy memory) which I quoted incorrectly.
I wrote him back to let him know, I’d like to keep the article posted and remove the parts that offended him most — the YouTube links bothered him [and I understand why — they have sales ads] and me misquoting him, also understandable.
Mr. Patz informed me there has never been a lead, reference or even a thought of Etan being in Syracuse, NY. So, there you have it — it is just my dreams, impressions that picked up Syracuse.
As a psychic, this case, which happened when I was just a teen [living my high school life far away – Phoenix, AZ], really developed my psychic crime-solving gift. I have only told a few friends about my early images of how Etan Patz was killed, his age at his death and where his body might be.
In those years, I had never been in New York City – my first time would be 1984 – this case moved me. Soon after it was public, I had dreams of being in a car, with other children, on the West Side Highway [at that time I didn’t know it was the West Side Highway, either]. I just dreamt of being on a semi-circular roadway looking through a window at a big city…surrounded by water and bridges. Although, I am not sure it is related to Etan Patz.
One night, all those years ago around 1981 (the year I graduating high school), I had a dream [this was also more recognition of my medium gifts]:
In my dream, I found myself sitting on a ratty old couch in a messy old single room apartment. Sitting beside where about four to six children, boys and girls. When I “awoke” in this drab, dirty room I immediately stood up to face all these children – ages 6 to 12 – and asked them who they were and why they were here. All of them were very silent and had the large hungry eyes of starving children in Third World countries. Their clothes were tattered and their demeanor that of abused children – no tears, just large, sad eyes. Not one of them spoke.
I kept questioning, wondering why no one would answer me. Then, one of them, about 8-years-old, sitting between the other children was familiar to my eyes.
“You’re Etan Patz!”
The boy nodded that he was, indeed, Etan.
I looked at the other children and it came to me, “Oh my God, you’re all dead, aren’t you?”
The children nodded.
For whatever reason, they were unable to speak to me out loud. I found they could hear my questions in their mind and would answer with their yes and no head nods.
I looked at Etan and said, “This is where you all are? This apartment?”
Etan gave me the affirmative.
“Can you tell me where ‘this apartment’ is located?”
Etan stood up and walked to the front door. Right beside the door was a light switch. Etan pointed to it and it turned into a moving, virtual reality map – similar to today’s touch screen computers [this was 1981, though] – and I could see maps moving quickly until it landed on New York. Etan pointed at a name on the map. I expected New York City, but it was different.
Etan pointed harder at the name on the map, which I had trouble reading: I didn’t know New York names and places well, at that time, at least. I saw the word Sycamore. Etan disagreed with his head nod.
I asked him, “It sounds like Sycamore, right?”
He seemed disappointed, it was the only way I could read the word,at that time.
“Etan, is your body in this apartment? I want to tell your parents.”
Etan told me no . . . with his head. And again pointed on the light switch. The picture went from the map of this place I was calling Sycamore, NY – like a film. I saw two brick buildings, white, a few stories high, side by side, same size, same look. In front of it were some fields of grass/dirt and one tree [perhaps, a sycamore tree?].
Etan pointed to about the third story window, to show me where this apartment was from the outside of the building. Then, for where his body was, he pointed to the field area, very near the one tree.
I asked him how old he was when he was killed. He was 8-years-old, although he disappeared at age 6. I picked up more information telepathically from Etan and the other children.
The man who killed them lived in the building in which they were [in my dream]. Etan confirmed [in my dream]:
Etan was familiar with the man when he intercepted him in New York.
The man abused boys, mostly, yet would hurt girls, too.
I promised to remember the information given when I woke up – I had realized it was a dream.
So, when I woke up, I asked Etan Patz to draw through my hands about all the information.
I have had these drawings for years and was always scared to share it with anyone:
I was a teenager and who would believe me
It would be awful if law enforcement dug up a campus and found nothing just based on my impressions
I would be accused of being an opportunist.
Yesterday, number three happened. Etan’s father thought I was just seeking instant fame and/or God knows what. I’m not, at least, not about this situation. If my impressions can find Etan Patz, fine. And if my impressions do lead to him, I don’t care if they ever say my name or not. As for money, I don’t ask for money for missing children cases; nevertheless, if a reward or business compensation [where businesses are involved] is offered, I would accept monetary compensation should my impressions directly lead to the recovery of a child and/or solving a crime.
>> Yes, I am in the Psychic/Medium business, as well. Since I cannot take on every case, I will help when and where I can [with missing children only]. As I did for the Maine Police Department in finding a missing child (deceased). My name was never mentioned, I never visited Maine or Canada (where I told them they’d find the missing child — and they did), and I have not received one bit of money from that case. <<
Still, this is NOT my goal or purpose in posting or sharing my findings [financial gain or fame — although, I am, with my blog, advertising my gifts for profit]. I am sharing these [drawing and insights] for FREE so a missing child can come home and/or a crime can be solved.
Thus, I kept them [the drawings, psychic impressions & dreams] all these years and now it’s time, with a place (my blog) for me to finally share them.
THE DRAWINGS: They are drawn from a child’s hand, Etan Patz, as I, basically, in 1981, channeled him to draw them for me. I have found, since I have actually helped in a couple of cases with the police in recent years, I can draw pictures based on what I pick up from dead children.
BACK TO THE STORY: Years later, when I moved to New York to attend college (1984) – I learned my mistake with Sycamore. Because I hadn’t heard of it, a friend whom I showed him the drawings, told me it is in Syracuse, NY.
The information from my friend:
It is the college campus and the buildings were part of the college there.
The room I described, he told me, was what the dorm rooms look like inside.
The building was where the staff would live.
The field has since been built-up and I didn’t hear of them finding bodies or remains.
Although, Etan told me he is buried near this building(s).
My friend told me that these buildings, the original college buildings, were torn down.
If these impressions and drawings help solve the crime, I would be glad to work, even anonymously, with anyone out there working on the case.
Coming up, in another blog postings, my drawings from the Jon Benet Ramsey case and the recent case of Lauren Spierer (which I should post next so they can, possibly, find her).
I did contact AMW.com and they informed me they do not take psychic impressions on cases.
Train tracks which bisect the city are two blocks from the dorms.
Even though this is a house, it is sort of how I saw the building(s) in my dream. This photograph and the above caption was taken in Syracuse, NY.
The other photo, from Syracuse, NY (near the dorms) is a pretty good image of the field I saw where the children are buried [should my dream have any truth in it]. I saw only one tree and remember, my dream took place in 1981.
As a psychic (a person who accurately sees the future: which I am) and one who speaks to dead people (I’m also a medium) — I know that, yes, some people will leave the world on Saturday, May 21st at midnight because of reasons that are NOT associated with any rapture(s). Some people it will 1) be their time, 2) or some wacko decides the rapture prediction is true and whacks him or herself off, 3) some wackos will believe all the hype and before their suicide, they’ll take out a few family, friends and strangers [coward afraid to die alone], or some folks will 4) get into an accident and pass on from injuries.
As for the so-called rapture, of course. Two words . . .all right, a few words, mostly dirty words, come to mind. Thus, let’s skip those . . .I might go to hell!
See what freedom of speech does! Gives the people crazier than me; yes, coming from one who speaks to dead people and sees the future (for a long freakin’ time, too), there are those crazier. This gives them an outlet to 1) gain fame, 2) get crazier people then them to donate $$$ (which the leader will utilize for his own mansion when it doesn’t happen) and 3) to try to convince himself (probably) he’s not the craziest person still walking on the planet.
Of course, he and his followers (99% of the time, I think, it’s been a man, too), give people like me a reason to laugh. And laughter cures all things! Thank you for the laughter, whack jobs!
The other reason is, for 99% of my clients — nah, make that 100% of my clients — I see you all living well past May 21, 2011. Sadly, we will also still have all these so-called “saved” followers of ‘he doesn’t deserve me to write his name (the guy who predicts this crap)‘ hanging around and throwing us another date, I’m sure.
I think they should pick 11/11/11. More fun that way! Of course, we still have 12/12/12 or the “twelfth of never”. Much better. As for the Mayan date 12/21/2012 — again, I see 98% of my clients in the world way beyond that date, as well. We have so much time, folks!
Three separate psychics and myself (at the age of 12) predicted I would live to be 110 [I said 112-years-old]. Thus, if the three different psychics [who did not know each other or the other premonitions of me living to be older than god] — we have until, at least, September 28, 2073 (my 110th birthday). Or we have until, at least, July 4, 2076.
At the age of 12-years-old, on July 4th, 1976, my mother grounded me and I missed the Bicentennial fireworks. I swore to her, that day, in a fit of rage that I would “show her” and live to see the Tricentennial. Thus, I’m going to be around a helluva long time! And that means so are most of you!
Love, Light & Laughter,
Hello everyone . . .
I’m not sure if you know or not. When you have a blog on word press, you can look at your dashboard and see how many people read your blog. And yesterday, when Kirstie Alley did well on Dancing With The Stars, I had the biggest number of views ever, over 4,000!
I hope you all took time to read more than just my post about Kirstie Alley — our twitter correspondence (AngelAura28), that’s my twitter account. Because, well, I am looking to build a fan base. I plan on writing several books in my future, and working on the Broadway stage, television and film. I’d love to have you all along on the ride. And if I ever get a gig on Dancing With The Stars!
My 2nd busiest day was a while back — and really was because of my facebook friendship with Dori Hartley. She was the 1st ‘Frank N. Furter’ impersonator during the late 70s/early 80s phenomenon of the midnight showing of Rocky Horror Picture Show; at the downtown Manhattan, NY “8th Street Playhouse”. She is published author on ParentDish and nearly 800 of her fans came here in search of my articles about her.
The other two, according to my dashboard, that leads people to my blog is “tarot cards” and searching for “love quotes for him”. At least, these four are the most frequently searched and found on my blog.
I’m an Intuitive (Psychic)/Medium as well. As I was learning how to guide my gifts, I did read tarot cards — and played with a couple of Ouija boards, runes & iChing. Technically, though, I do not need any of those oracles. I have always received “pictures” in my head — like a movie, really — and they seem to come out 85-98% true! I’m a Seer or have the gift of prophesy, apparently. Sometimes my dreams are extremely precognitive, too. And I’m clairaudient — which means, I can hear spirits, people’s higher selves, receive and give telepathy, etc., etc.
Yes, I love quotes, too. Thus, you will find quote here from me . . . and video’s . . . and stories (non-fiction, mostly) . . . and photos.
Thank you for reading . . . enjoy my other work, if you’d like! And please, feel free to leave your positive, encouraging and constructive comments. Leave the negative comments to facebook or twitter, and not to me!Love, Light & Laughter, Angela Theresa
Please help my friend, too . . .
Day One–Hundred Two (102): Thursday, June 10th, 2010
102) Think Outside The Box
The Christian mystic Hildegard of Bingen experienced visions that started in childhood and continued until her death in 1179 A.D. During medieval times, women didn’t keep journals nor jot down their spiritual or ecclesiastical ideas; however, Hildegard became convinced that she was being instructed by a heavenly voice telling her to record information gained during her ecstatic states of consciousness. Hildegard, worried that she might be ridiculed by others, was reluctant to do as she was told. Eventually, however, she began dictating to her scribe what her inner visions unveiled for her. She also created musical compositions, a morality play, poetry, and works of art that revealed what she called mysteries and secrets of the Divine. Her body of work earned her high regard by the church.
O God, by whose grace thy servant Hildegard, enkindled with the Fire of thy love, became a burning and shining light in thy Church: Grant that we also may be aflame with the spirit of love and discipline, and may ever walk before thee as children of light; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who with thee, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, liveth and reigneth, one God, now and for ever.
Day One–Hundred One (101): Wednesday, June 9th, 2010
Teresa of Avila was a medieval Spanish Carmelite nun whose desire for a deeper relationship with God eventually manifested as a result of her longing and effort. When she died, she left behind a rich legacy of devotional observations in her writings and her autobiography. Inspired by the Holy Spirit, Teresa yoked her desire to manifest a closer relationship with the Lord with intention and action, that is, her adherence to a physical life of strictest poverty and renunciation. Aligned in harmony with the Law of Attraction, she got what she wanted and more. In time, she shared her spiritual gifts through her books, Life, The Way of Perfection, and The Interior Castle.
Teresa assures us that those who practice prayer faithfully will receive all they ask beyond their greatest expectations and hope. God used her to rebuild and expand many convents and monasteries as she radiated smiles, humor, and goodwill amidst heavy crosses and conflicts. She wrote: “Anyone who has not begun to pray,(regularly and daily ) I beg, for the love of the Lord, not to miss so great a blessing. There is no place here (in the convent) for fear, but only desire.”
Tour (raining) >> my least favorite day(s) to do the tours, when it rains. There’s nothing pleasant about being wet from head to toe; sitting in a puddle on top of an open bus with a live microphone in your hand.
Sore Throat >> And, of course, developing a sore throat from the dampness.
Love, Light & Wetness,
Day Seventy–Four (74): Thursday, May 13th, 2010
74) Saints Perform Miracles
Critics say that some Law of Attraction teachers are ridiculous to suggest that creative imagination, visualizations, affirmations and the power of positive thinking can help a person to manifest circumstances, objects, or healings. However, practitioners of the Law of Attraction point out that miraculous healings, even from seemingly incurable diseases, can and do happen. In the traditions of the Roman Catholic Church, before a person can continue to sainthood, three miracles have to have happened to be verified by the church as having no other explanation than intervention by the deceased holy person in response to prayer and faith of the petitioner.