Although we would like to think that after death everything is beautiful and that we go to a place of love and light, this is not always the case for everyone. In my lifetime and in my too-many-years-to-count of experience with the "dearly" departed, there are a lot of souls who don"t find the light and many who don"t even know they are dead. Too often these souls are afraid and confused, not knowing what to do or where to go to find their peace, so they hang around the "living" trying to be heard, crying out for help. The good news is that helping them is a simple thing to do. Gathering together in a group for the purposes of hearing their stories and helping them find the light literally saves souls.
Soul rescue is a work that really makes my heart sing. Although I had facilitated rescue circles for many years, it was never more personal than when my stepfather died. He had been ill for some time but always pulled through a crises.
This time, when mother said he was in the hospital for colon problems, I had no inkling that he would never go home. I think it was morning, although my memory might be wrong in this. I walked from my bedroom to the living room and there he was, my stepfather, Jean (French for John), sitting in the blue recliner rocker that used to be his until mother bought him a new one.
He looked confused and dazed. "What am I doing here? How did I get here?" he asked as his eyes darted around. I was startled to see him there but recognized immediately that he had died and didn"t know it. "You have passed away from your body." I said as calmly as I could. "Do you remember being in the hospital?" He thought a moment, then said, "Yes."
I looked over his shoulder and a cloud of mist was beginning to form. His mother"s face appeared and she called to him.
He didn"t seem to hear her. "You have died." I said. "Your mother is calling you to guide you to your new home." Jean was an atheist and didn"t believe in an after life. He was raised in the Christian Science Church and rejected it totally out of hand. However, because my mother was a big time metaphysical teacher, he had developed some questions about his non-belief in an afterlife. He had even started reading Deepak Chopra"s books a few months before his death. Before he could answer my question, the phone rang. He disappeared but I knew he was still there.
I answered the phone. It was my mother. "Jean died," she said in a flat tone that I knew was masking her shock and disbelief. I asked her about the details. "He died suddenly when his pacemaker stopped. He sent me home to fetch a book and when I returned, he was dead." There was a catch in her throat. I talked with her a while and said I would be over soon then returned to the living room. I called for him in my mind. He reappeared, pacing the room. He was frightened. I kept asking him to turn around and see his mother who was calling for him. I didn"t call in Angels because I knew this would be too far out of his belief system to accept. I just kept coaxing him to see his mother.
Finally, he turned and looked at her. She took his hand and led him into the light. I sighed a breath of relief. The room cleared and the smell of ozone, that had been prevalent, was gone. Why did he appear to me and not to my mother? We were close, but not extremely close. I liked him and was grateful for the wonderful way he loved and treated Mother. She deserved him after living with my father"s alcoholism for so long. Jean and Mother had a close and loving marriage for more than 30 years. I can only guess that it was the chair. It was his favorite chair for many years.
It still had his energy signature deeply ingrained in its fibers. I had only acquired it a few weeks before and we rarely sat in it. The chair called to him somehow. Also mother was in denial and shock, not receptive yet. Later, he did appear to her on many occasions. When my husband, Allen, and I moved in to help take care of her, he would show up regularly. Maybe he was worried about her. It was obvious that she was declining mentally. His death hastened her dementia that eventually robbed her of all joy and peace. Her self-image of a strong, spiritually-minded person who believed that death is only a transition, didn"t let her show her grief. I tried very hard to bring it out, but she was a stubborn woman.
Jean would come to her and comfort her. Talk with her after she went to bed, and let her know that he would be waiting for her when she comes to him. He let her know that all those years, she was right about the afterlife. This gave her no end of self-satisfaction. She always did love to be right. So, for a long time I continued with my soul rescue work with groups coming together to help those who are lost, alone, and afraid. We have regular spiritual meetings in our home on Wednesday nights and I am thinking of starting a soul-rescue group again.
Blessed Be, Anita
Author Bio :
Anita Burns was born psychic. She is an accomplished author, educator, astrologer, trance channel, clairvoyant, tarot reader. She is an ordained minister from the Sierra Theological Seminary. Anita's academic field is hypnosis and NLP. For most of her adult life, Anita has been teaching others to develop their psychic/spiritual selves. anitaburns.info