Snippets from Heaven: Part 4

Snippets from Heaven: Part 4

On the first day of March in 2015, I met with Peter* (Names have been changed to protect the identity of my client). I know Peter’s sister, and she arranged the session for him. I knew some things about him beforehand, but none of that prepared me for what was to come in that session.

I had only been seeing clients for just under a year, and I was still shaky. I met Peter at his home, and as we started the session, I just kept trying to keep my nerves in check. Men tend to be more skeptical, and for some reason, I feel like I am under a magnifying glass of introspection in a session with someone skeptical. I am better now. In the beginning, it was beyond hard to deliver the messages with my unsteady voice and worried mind.

The session began, relatively flawless. Peter and I spoke with a soul from heaven who Peter knew through the war. Peter is a soldier. He had spent several years in the Middle East in combat. His translator, who had passed, came through to speak to Peter and offer him comfort. His translator’s objective was to try to ease any guilt, Peter might have had about his passing.

What happened next, shook me in a way I will never find the right words to explain. I froze. The soul that had entered the room resembled the statue that hung from a cross at St. Olaf’s where I went to church with my grandmother. I was terrified and awed all at the same time. How could this be, kept running through my mind as I tried to hold my composure.

Some sort of sacrilege must be occurring; was all I could think. How could I say I was seeing someone who looked and sounded like Jesus? How was that possible? Only priests have a direct connection to God, right? How was Jesus standing there? How could I tell Peter this is who wanted to speak to him? Starting with, “I know this sounds crazy, but…” seemed like a massive understatement. I still don’t remember how I initiated that introduction. I think I said, “I think this is Jesus that wants to speak to you. I know I already sound crazy because I say I can talk to ghosts and I am probably hallucinating, but I can’t explain who else this could be. He looks just like him.”

What surprised me the most is that Peter was open and willing to believe that Jesus was in the room with us. He told me to, “Go for it” and just tell him what this spirit had to say. I was seeing it and still in utter awe and disbelief.

The soul who looked like Jesus started to tell me what to say and out of sheer obedience to my faith I just spoke his words. He told Peter that Peter could go back to the front lines of the war if he really wanted, he would not be stopped. The spirit continued to say with such force I was afraid myself, that Peter’s life belonged to Him and that if Peter went back to the front lines that Peter was coming home and not in a box, but he would live and he would not be happy about his condition. This soul told Peter how vital his life here on Earth was, and that he had good work left to do. This spirit that resembled Jesus commiserated that life was hard and that trials are challenging, but that Peter was to stay here and do the work required of him. Jesus and God were the only ones who could determine when Peter joined them in heaven, no matter what Peter thought. I am sure I am summarizing this, but this is what I remember most.

It took me a second to regroup. Peter noticed and patiently waited.

“Did all that make sense?” I asked him. Still stuck in a surreal sense of denial.

“Yes,” Peter said, “I want to go back to fight, and I want to be on the front lines because I don’t think I can live like this any longer. It is so hard to be here.”

I was dumbfounded. What do you say at that moment? I am not even sure what I said or if the soul resembling Jesus spoke again. I know that Peter and I spoke a great deal and our session was more prolonged than per usual. I know I left hoping that, that soul and the messages shared had helped heal Peter’s heart somehow.

Believe me, I know this story is a leap. Who knows what will happen to me once this is in cyberspace. What I do know is this, the theme of this session and the story is supposed to be shared. Could I just make Jesus show up – no, that isn’t how this works. Do I claim to have a direct connection, no. I pray just like anyone else and hope my words move from my lips to God’s ears. I am not someone special, I just witnessed something miraculous. And that miracle is this; God is in us. God is with us. We belong to Him. No matter our trials or our defeats; whatever life hands us; He is there. Bearing witness; holding us and our pain and celebrating when we are victorious. We are never alone. We are never forsaken. And the story of our hearts and our prayers are always heard. And they are answered or unanswered for His divine purpose; which is for our best good, no matter what we believe.

And if I am keeping it real and sharing what else I think matters from this session, it is this:

Why wouldn’t Jesus show up? He died for our sins. He gave his life so that we could have eternal life. He loved children, the elderly, sick, destitute, and everyone in between. He wasn’t afraid to talk to anyone, even if society deemed them unfit somehow. In fact, I believe from what I have read in the Bible, and what I know of Jesus that those who were lost, wayward, cast out, forgotten, they were his favorite. The more human you were, the more he loved you and loved on you. Why wouldn’t he show up for each and every one of us? Why is it so hard for some of us to believe that he is right here with us? Peter didn’t have a single problem accepting Jesus was in that room. Not for a minute. And after years of thinking back on this moment; I can’t see why he wouldn’t have shown up for Peter. I don’t believe that Jesus would ever turn his back on anyone. He loved even the one person who betrayed him.

So I think what we need to remember is how much we are loved. How much God and Jesus or whatever deity you pray to is watching over each of us. Loving us and guiding us. We are all connected to one another and to the greater good. So whether you believe this or not; isn’t the purpose. What I hope you walk away from when you read this is that you are worthy. Jesus would show up for you in a heartbeat, without a second thought. He doesn’t need you to believe he would. He just shows up.

I am afraid to put this story out there, have been hesitant to tell it for years. And you know what? Jesus was frightened when he was here, but he did what was right anyway. He did what he was asked anyway. It isn’t up to me to keep this to myself and not share it with the world where it might do someone else some good. I can handle scorn, disbelief, sideways glances, and even those that pray for my soul thinking that my sharing this puts me in harm’s way. God loves me. Jesus thinks I am pretty awesome. And in the end, that is what matters to me above all else.

I hope you know how much you are loved by this universe. How precious and perfect you are. How everything came together over millions of years to create precisely you. That you and just being you is your sole purpose on this planet. There is no one else like you. That is all you have to be. And it is more than enough.

Until next time,

2016-09-11_0905

Hallelujah anyway

Hallelujah anyway

Y’all I saw Jen Hatmaker last week on the Moxie Matters Tour, and I just have to say Hallelujah and Amen. She is such a down to earth, genuine human. She showed up sick and tired and persevered through the evening. She is just one of my favorite humans.

The theme of the evening centered around being a good neighbor and what that meant. She used the Parable of the Good Samaritan, Luke 10:25-37, to illustrate what Jesus taught us about being a good neighbor.

See, Jesus tells the story of a man that is robbed, beaten, stripped and left for dead and how a priest and a holy man not only pass him by when they see him; they move to the other side of the street. The person who stops to help the robbed and beaten man is a Samaritan. Now in biblical times; a Samaritan was someone who was cast off and despised. Yet, this is the person who Jesus uses as the helper and caregiver. (If you want to read the verses yourself check them out here.)

“Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind; and, Love your neighbor as yourself.”

I know, I have a blessed and beautiful life. I get that. But Y’all, we every single one of us, have experienced pain. We have all had some form of beaten down-ness even if it is in the metaphorical sense. Jen shared this, and I wholeheartedly agree. Pain is common ground.

For me it has been this journey to be my whole self out loud; to finally follow my calling to mediumship. Even though I know what I am doing is right, it still seems to strike shame, hurt and fear in me.

See I have been talked down to, told I was the devil, said I speak to demons, that I capitalize on other people’s pain. People who love me have said that the only reason they believe me is because it is me. While that is nice; it still means that what I have been asked to do; called to do, is something vile and wrong in their book; that there is this notion that it is all hooey. That what I do cannot be real.

Even I have doubts; I am human after all, but those doubts don’t come from my soul at all. The shame, fear and hurt all come from human interaction and logic. When I let my soul do the talking, there are no doubts; there is no fear, there is no shame. But when I have to interact with other humans, the lump in my throat stretches, and I can’t seem to get out the words to explain what I do without feeling some shame.

The trick is, I was born this way. Being able to see spirit is as much a part of me as my hazel eyes, bad temper, and the blood that runs through my body. This is me. This is my normal. This isn’t something I created out of thin air. It isn’t even something I can escape. Believe me I have tried. Baptism made it stronger. Hiding didn’t stop what I was seeing it just kept me safe from other humans knowing and their reactions.

I spent most of my life in hiding. Straddling two worlds. Living in them and between them. Being someone different on the inside than on the outside. I know many of you understand this. You get that it sucks big time.

I didn’t want that for my kids. I don’t want that for anyone at all. We should have our inside match our outside. We should be free to be ourselves. We should all love our neighbors as we love ourselves. And for Pete’s sake we should love ourselves.

But it was ironic listening to Jen speak. Listening to her talk about what she felt and how she had dealt with ridicule last year, and I thought; I wonder if you knew who I was, if we were sitting down talking to me, would you accept me? All of me? I didn’t feel like I would be allowed in. OUTCAST. That is how I will forever be branded.

Seeing Jen felt like going to church on a school night. I am not saying it like that is a bad thing. It made me miss a connection to God like that. Now God and I are good. Jesus and I are cool. I think I am okay there, but to have a church and a community that loves God also accept me; those things are mutually exclusive. I don’t believe that there is a church that would welcome all of me with open arms. It stings a little because I feel like that is something missing in my life. Not God or the four walls, but the community of like-minded souls in worship.

I sat in this event thinking I want to be a part of something like this and left feeling like that will never happen. Yes, I know having God love me is enough, but we are all human, and man it would be nice to feel whole and unashamed in a room like that.

It made me think of my event and how the people who have known me all my life, saw proof of things I could not conjure up, research or find out on my own, saw evidence that spirit can speak through me and still somehow wanted more clarification that God was okay with what I do. I can’t give anyone that. It isn’t my place.

I think a part of me felt that if I spoke my truth out loud it would wash away the hurt and the shame and I could be me without feeling wrong somehow. Nope. I will have to defend myself to my dying day.

Dentists, doctors, teachers, stay at home moms, marketers, gardeners, chefs, cashiers they don’t have to hide in shame when they tell people what they do for a living.

Just posting my live event brought out people who thought they could heal me with Bible Speak and damnation. I do not need to be healed. I am already whole. I am a decent person who loves her children, puts time and energy into the community she lives in, has a stable, healthy marriage, is kind to others, and hasn’t ever committed a crime in her life. Okay, okay, I once checked my email on my phone at a stop light; I have a ticket for that, but that is it. And still, I feel like some abomination. It just makes me tired.

I know sometimes it feels like it is only doom and gloom here on the blog, but this is where I can work out my shit. It is in my blog where I can feel all the feels and then get to the other side. I know, some people say you shouldn’t share your story until you are all the way through, but I get stuck in the middle a lot. I get stuck and need to vent to find the light at the end of the tunnel or to see the damn switch on the wall that has been there all along.

Some people told me after seeing me live that they didn’t know I was that funny or they didn’t realize I was that engaging. Well, duh I can’t be myself most places. But there in that room, people bought a ticket to see the real me, and I showed up.

My instinct to hide has been a part of me since I was two years old. I knew I wasn’t like everyone else. I was something different. That is all I have been all my life, something different. I count myself lucky, besides being female, I was able to hide who I was, to escape judgment because my difference is something that couldn’t be seen. And yes, I also know that I chose to speak up, I decided to let this loose. I get it. You can’t have it all.

But I guess because I was straddling both worlds and keeping it secret for so long; I miss my secret hiding place sometimes. I miss a place where I could pretend to feel whole and not have to feel what people think of me.

hallelujah anyway. I choose to stumble forward with as much grace as I can muster and hope for the best.

The good news, I guess, is that I am who I am. I know that my relationship with God is intact. If HE was pissed at me, I am pretty sure I would know it. And if I keep doing what I think is the next right thing that is all I can do. That is all we can ask of anyone. To do the best they can with what they have. So even if I can’t fit in places I would like to, and I might be seen as an evildoer in some circles; I just have to be the best me I can be. That is all I have to offer and at the end of the day that is good enough. So I say, hallelujah anyway. I choose to stumble forward with as much grace as I can muster and hope for the best. I will be a good neighbor and a good human. That is enough and it is okay if I stumble through it. I think moving forward with as much grace as I can muster is A-okay.

Miracles

Miracles

Gratitude is still lingering in our minds as it was Thanksgiving for some of us just a few months ago. I saw the Facebook posts blowing up with the 30 days of thanks. I saw the pictures about being thankful and blessed. Then, December brought us Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanza, Advent, and many more holidays around the world. In our neck of the woods the Holiday Cards come zipping in (mine will be a New Year’s card this year, or around then) and the pictures of families fill them. Smiling kids, dogs, and little notes about what is going on in everyone’s worlds. I love them, cherish them to pieces, but my heart breaks a little when I think of who might be missing from those photos or my friends that will never have a complete family photo ever again. How crushing this time of year can be for some. And with it being January that doesn’t just lift away like a fog; even in our happiest moments; pain becomes a lifeline on our hands, the words on the tips of our tongues we do not speak, and the ache in our heart that never quite goes away.

Some of you have heard me share this story, but I want to share it here again. A preacher shared this at a sermon.

A property owner needed to drill a well. Out came the man with the tools to drill the well. As they began drilling they ran into difficulty because it was winter and the ground was frozen. Frustrated, the land owner was ready to give up, “I guess we will just have to wait until spring,” he said.

“Oh no,” replied the man drilling. “You need to keep drilling. If you find water in the winter you will have water all year-long.”

It reminds me of all of those that are grateful; that have had moments of great loss as well. And that sometimes our hearts are frozen over with the cold grief. While it may seem impossible; we can drill down, even in the winter, even in the bleakest of circumstances; which I know we are hearing about on the news and some of us are living through. We must keep drilling to reach the water; to reach faith and gratitude so that it becomes something we have 365 days a year. So it becomes our habit and pattern of behavior; not just for the end of the year, but all year long. It can be the thing that sits beside us when we have fallen and it can be the voice that whispers us awake again and again. It can be the cheerleader that helps us forge ahead with each step that we take.

When I was very little I knew I was different because I could see and hear things others could not. I learned to keep this part of myself hidden. And when I hid that part of myself it became easy to hide. I have spent the last several years unveiling my hidden pieces. Breaking open and becoming vulnerable. It has been one of the most difficult things to do. And yet it is yielding powerful results in my life; this drilling down. It has led me to things and moments I never dreamed of having.

We burn with divine light

I get to witness miracles. God gave me an amazing gift and I am fortunate enough to help others with it. Even with the joy that comes with what I witness, the weight and sadness of the lives I interact with weigh heavy on my heart. I would much rather my clients loved ones were still physically with them then me have the job that I do. It’s a tough one and most days it makes me feel less than, instead of unique because no matter what I do it will never be enough. That is just the nature of it.

The point is that I suck at this life thing on the regular. I am pretty sure most days I make more mistakes than not, but in the end, I win more than I lose. Breaking myself open to being completely vulnerable has made me unable to sit at many tables; it quickly separates me from people, and definitely makes me an outcast. I am readily seen as different. But aren’t we all seen that way in some realm of our lives?

When I look at my family, my friends and see those family cards flowing in; I can see between the lines. I see the triumphs and the fears; the dark and the light in their lives. We are all just surviving the best way we know how.

It would be a beautiful thing if we stopped using our differences as weapons and instead used them to be the light in one another’s lives. We have one thing in common; each of us is human. Each of us has a beating heart with emotions and a body with basic needs. If we started where we are, THE SAME, and cherished where those similarities ended and made room for everyone at the table that would be a miraculous world. And not just because we would all find a way to coexist; but because when we start to allow miracles into our lives; they start to show up over and over again.

Because I take a blind leap of faith every day – yes, it is blind; there is no way for me to know what I believe is truth – I witness miracles in my work and life every single day; multiple times a day, but I know that is because I believe in something greater than myself; I believe miracles happen every second of every day and I watch for them and give thanks for them. That is what allows their frequency in my life; that I expect them to be there. I know this is not easy for all; believing in something you can’t see is so very hard.

Welcome

Clients of mine often express their struggle to comprehend a session and truly believe what happened was real. Even when we are presented with a direct, divine answer from the universe that there is something greater, that we are not in control, it is hard to believe. I get it. Nothing anyone can do, or anything you witness can force you to believe in anything; you have to choose to believe. But, that is the thing, what I do isn’t about proof; it isn’t about the idea that frequency will make it real and solid; you have to believe on your own.

As always, with what I do and how to explain it; I think of God. I think of Jesus.

Jesus was given to us as a most precious gift and he gave his life for us. He wasn’t invited to every table in life and he isn’t invited to every table in death, as there are people who do not believe in him. People make a choice to believe or not to believe. Regardless of how others viewed him, he lived his best life, vulnerable, open, and believing in something greater than himself.

When we believe, when we chose to be open, we find the miracles in life; we witness greatness that has no other explanation. I think being vulnerable, open and choosing to believe is enough. It is what I chose each day. Right or wrong it leads me toward faith, miracles and blessings. I wouldn’t choose any other way.

Peace be with you,
2016-09-11_0905

What I have learned about Heaven…

What I have learned about Heaven…

One of my clients emailed me this week and asked:

What is your take [on Heaven]?  And what have you learned from being the mediator for spirits?

To answer that question, it is important to get a little back story. I think it is important to understand the source behind my answer.

Becoming a medium wasn’t in my lifelong goals and dreams. It became something I am extremely proud of. It is a gift I hold dear. It has also become my dream to help as many people as possible. To be the best medium that I can be. It is work I take seriously and hold in the highest regard. In my youth; however, it was something I spoke of little and felt more comfortable keeping to myself.

Now, the road wasn’t an easy one and I often took the path of least resistance in the beginning; I am human after all. But, God asks more of us. God asks us to follow Him into the dark and help shine his light unto the world. I know that is what God has asked of me.

img_5436-1

When I decided to share my gift with the world I was terrified. In fact, I went to see my therapist and discussed this at length with her. In her wise way she told me that the path was already clear and I just needed to see it for myself. She asked me to follow her in a simple exercise. She said, “I want you to close your eyes and just focus on your path.” Over the next few minutes she continued to ask, “Who is leading you? Where are you? What is happening next?”

I closed my eyes, and asked God to guide me and instantly I was in a meadow filled with white and yellow flowers and tall grass. A breeze was gently caressing my cheek and the light that surrounded me was the brightest and warmest I had ever felt. I looked down and I was on an unpaved road; it was packed down beige colored dirt with stones and pebbles, and in some areas the grass had grown high and wild covering the path. I could see no other tracks or footprints on this path.

41004327-heavenly-wallpapers
http://www.ryylxjw.com/heavenly-wallpapers/41004327.html – original source

When I looked up ahead of me to see who was leading me, there was a man dressed in a white robe with dark flowing hair. He turned back to make sure I was still following and gave me a radiant smile. His eyes were the color of dark, rich honey and they reflected a warmth in his soul. I immediately knew I could trust him. In fact, I felt like I had known him all my life. He travelled the path ahead of me without ever having to watch where he stepped. His sure footed-ness let me know he had travelled this path before.

He stopped every so often and reached out into the grass and each time he did a child rose. He would usher me to touch them on their head just as he did. These children began to flock around me. A sense of purpose filled my soul.

My therapist asked me to open my eyes. She then asked me to relay what I had seen. Just before I opened my eyes, the man nodded at me. He told me it was time.

I know this could have been my imagination working overtime, but what I saw that day, in that moment felt real and tangible. There are still moments I can feel the way the blades of grass brushed against my hand as I passed. I can still see the light shining down and wrapping itself around me warming and filling my soul. The faces of those children shining up at me and the support as they fell in behind me on the path.

I believe God is leading me down the path toward sharing my gift; I believe God is always guiding me to share the messages he wants delivered through spirit. It is always Him that I ask for guidance and strength to work with both spirit and the people who ask for my assistance. It is always Him.

So, while I may not be an expert on Heaven, I feel that what spirit has shown me is coming directly from the source. What they describe is love. Heaven is love. It is unconditional, ever-growing, never-ending love. Spirit arrives to open arms and they are instantly washed over with love and warmth. It fills their soul to the brim and all fear vanishes.

Heaven is a place where each spirit is welcomed and nourished with all that they need. Everybody is in. Not one soul is left in the dark.

What I have heard in reading after reading is that while Heaven is open to all and everyone is welcome; there are privileges and jobs assigned to a soul based on their journey both here on Earth and in Heaven.

A soul may be required to complete tasks and provide assistance to other souls based on what they have experienced or neglected in this life. While another soul is open to choose and explore Heaven because of how well they lived their life here on Earth. I always get the sense that all is forgiven, but not forgotten. A soul is always required to work through unfinished business and learn valuable lessons that may have been missed or overlooked while on Earth.

I have had the opportunity to speak to hundreds of spirits and all with different ethnicity, religion whether devout or atheist, of all different sexual orientation, all different ages and genders and all of their descriptions of Heaven have the items I discussed above in common.

Jesus came to teach us how to treat one another; how to wash away sins; how not to judge one another. His message was simple; his message was love.

img_5437

Heaven is love. It is unconditional and non-discriminatory. Heaven is a place we can all look forward to. But it is also a place where we will be held accountable for how we treated others and we will be lovingly guided to heal our souls and the souls of others we may have affected.

For me, God is everywhere. God is in every church, synagogue, mosque, pew, park bench, school, creek, ocean, river, lake, home, mind, heart, every nook and cranny where there is space; God is there.

Like with anything else that truly matters, we cannot use money or material possessions to purchase our place in Heaven, we have to earn it with our words and actions. We all get a ticket, but that doesn’t mean we get to ride for free. We have to do well here. We have to pay attention here to ourselves and others. We have to lift people up and be a part of a community. God is always paying attention and while we are held accountable for our actions; we are always welcomed home.

So in answer to your question; Heaven is love and we are all welcome there. What we do there is up to us; based on how we lived our life here. We are always forgiven and always welcomed with open arms.

Until next time,

2016-09-11_0905

 

 

 

Dark Spirits, Baptism & Jesus

IMG_1719

My little 4 year-old feet were racing down the hall as fast as they could carry me. Hurdling the baby gate that kept my toddling sister out of my room, I bounded to the bed and hid myself in the covers.

I was so tired of that demon chasing me to bed. 

It popped into my life from out of nowhere. One day no demon, the next day demon. He seemed to like chasing me down the hall and scaring the ever loving wits out of me.

Since moving to Spokane, I had quickly learned that it was filled with negative energy. At least our little neighborhood was. But I grew weary of that little barreling demon pretty quickly.

Just shy of a year of his entrance into my life I learned we were moving. I was excited to leave that awful beast behind. It didn’t take long to discover; however that it could occasionally pop back into my life hundreds of miles away in Colorado. 

One night while my grandparents were watching me, I asked my grandma about scary things other people can’t see. I told her I kept feeling like I was being chased. She told me that whenever I prayed to God and asked for him to remove a spirit he could do that. She assured me that God would keep me safe.

To my little 5 year old brain this was nothing short of a miracle and God became my most favorite bodyguard. God came to my rescue and that demon left my life. 

 
Roughly fourteen years later on a river rafting trip, I found that there are scarier things than that demon. By this time I had become accustomed to spirit being a daily part of my life. Most spirits that I came in contact with were harmless. None the less I still had not forgotten that evil lurked among us.

During this trip I was visited by several spirits who had been murdered. A serial killer had hunted in this very terrain. It didn’t take long before I was visited by the dark spirit himself. Angry and sinister because of the crimes he committed; he tried everything he knew to scare and haunt my life. Praying this ghost away wasn’t as easy. He would always return no matter how many times he was asked to leave.

But after a few months and lots of prayer I regained the upper hand and he was forced to the very far periphery of my life. 

But it was during this time that I feared I would need greater protection. I reached out to the local Catholic Church and decided I would take the needed classes to become Catholic and was Baptized during an Easter Mass.

Of course this brought solace during my spirit encounters. I found that I had a strong faith in God and a deeper connection to him. Despite that I was easily reminded of how well organized religion and myself cease to agree. Within a couple of years I was no longer a practicing Catholic, but that did not deter my faith in God. It was then that I learned, that even though I was no longer a practicing Catholic God had not forsaken me. Knowing He thinks I am worth each and every breath I take and each ounce of space I occupy is all I needed to know. 

It is with a deep faith in my gift and the knowledge that God loves me no matter what that I tell you this next fact. In a recent reading, Jesus himself came to discuss the matters at hand. Suicide was weighing heavily on the heart of the person who had scheduled the reading. Bitterness and fury had engulfed this young man’s soul and turned his life to pain.

What Jesus had to offer was profound. He told this young man that his life was to be treated as a gift. Jesus shared that our purpose in this world is simply to be ourselves. We are a unique gift and what each of us has to offer is our purpose. He reminded this young man that we are never alone; that we are unconditionally loved and profoundly understood by him. Even in our darkest moments, He is with us. 

 

I know, I just passed the border of crazy town for some of you. It’s okay; I am good with you thinking that. I know it may be blasphemus for me to say I delivered a message from Jesus to this troubled soul, but I know some of you that know me; know that this must somehow have been possible. 

The reason I share this with you is we need hope. Our country needs hope. We need to know we are not forgotten. We are not alone. Yes, some choose to embrace the darkness, but that doesn’t mean all is lost. Horrible, unthinkable tragedies befall the best most innocent souls, but that doesn’t mean all is lost.

When I flip on the news, I see anger and chaos. When I listen to my neighbors, I sense fear and loss. Ecspecially in our little community, we have lost so many young lives.  So I share this with you; there is something greater than us. This force or being is guiding us toward the best version of ourselves. He will carry the anger and chaos; we do not need to lose hope. We have the power to bring good into this world; even in our deepest pain we can choose to deliver goodness because that is our gift. It is within each and every one of us.

I choose hope,

Michelle