What I don’t talk about…

What I don’t talk about…

As a spiritual medium, I get plenty of questions asked of me. But the one thing people consistently ask me is if what I see scares me.

The answer to that question is mostly no.

What I primarily talk about with people are the best parts of what I get to experience daily. The parts where there is healing, love, and light from Heaven seeping into our Earthly lives. The part where loved ones from Heaven share their stories and bring laughter and smiles so that their loved ones here can cope just a little bit better with the loss.

But the truth is, sometimes it is just a bit too much. Sometimes I don’t understand why I see what I see, or why spirit tells me what they do.

People think this ability is some on-demand satellite dish that I have some control over. It is not that way at all. Spirit says what they want when they want, how they want, and I am just a conduit for that energy and message. I can’t just dial up Heaven and ask whatever questions I want. I can’t just ask a soul to show up and tell me things. There is a method to this, and it is that they are in charge. They send people to me, and spirit knows who is coming to see me, and spirit has a set agenda of what and how they are going to communicate. They are the boss of it all. And above that, there is God. There are rules to what souls can share. We aren’t supposed to know everything.

The awareness of this gift all started with unexpected impromptu visits. They have diminished a bit because spirit now knows I have office hours, but there are still unexpected visitors.

Even when the visits are expected, the messages that are delivered aren’t always easy to receive.

Spirit often conveys how they died, and not all death is smooth. I have witnessed murders that were video recorded, been asphyxiated with a telephone cord and hit in the head with the receiver, stabbed, assaulted, then murdered, shot, hit by cars, in car accidents, slipped and fallen off a cliff among other things. Felt Parkinson’s, Cancer, pneumonia, several drug overdoses, liver failure, strokes, aneurysms, septic shock, total organ failure, Alzheimer’s, heart attacks, and the like. This part is often not explained in detail during a session if I can help it. I try to get enough of the information so that I can relay some knowledge to my client and leave out the parts that aren’t necessary to relive. And spirit is gentle with me, only showing me enough so that I understand. There isn’t physical pain associated with these visuals. Still, there is an emotional aftershock as some of these incidents leave an imprint on my soul. How could they not? And it is scary. I can’t believe what human beings are capable of. But some of it I have relived first hand. It is brutal.

This started a long time ago, but I am not sure I will ever get used to it.

When I was about three, I started having dreams I didn’t quite understand. They were of places and people I had never met. Often I would awake, and there would be a visitor in my room that I recognized from the dream. Only one such visitor has ever been able to take that dream and turn it into a healing message for their family. That is Matthew. Other than that, for 38 years, I have had hundreds of dreams that I can’t turn into a healing message or even sometimes make sense of myself.

Just like with anything else to do with spirit, these dreams come one at a time, in clusters, or not all and always on spirits’ schedule. They seem to have no rhyme or reason as to why I am given the knowledge or visit.

Needless to say, even now as an adult, I like light to be present enough when I am sleeping that if I am awoken, I can make out what type of figure is in my room. I am not afraid of the dark, just averse to it. I want to be able to identify the beings in my room when I am jolted awake. My kids literally scare the ever-loving crap out of me because I always expect a ghost. So I guess I am the opposite of most people. I am less scared of the ghosts and more frightened by the actual, living, physical beings that wake me.

Recently, these dreams have been acting up again. Turned themselves up a notch. I think these spirit visitors are preparing me for something, but I don’t know what yet. And for some unexplained reason, I feel compelled to write it out here on the Internet.

First, I dreamt of a missing child who was murdered. That one was connected to a session I had, so I dismissed it. Then a few nights later, I dreamt of an elderly man who was also killed. He even gave me his name, which to me, is a big deal because names don’t always come through for me. I Googled him, and he has since been found as well as the parties responsible, so I wasn’t sure why he wanted to show himself to me. These things just happen to me, and I am not sure what to do with this knowledge.

And then a visitor started showing up and is still around me. He first showed himself by touching my arm in the middle of the night and saying, “You know I wouldn’t have died if I had, had my cell phone.”

It was so clear, in my sleep state, I actually thought it might have been my oldest son, but I knew within seconds that the voice didn’t match his, but the height and build did. And the visitor wasn’t visibly present to me once I was fully awake. Still rattled, I knew it wasn’t my oldest son, but checked on all of my children anyway. They were all sound asleep in their beds. It took me hours to fall back asleep. Who was this young man? Did he just die? Was there something I could do? Why did he pick me? Did I know his family? Was he going to come back? Did it all even really happen, or did I imagine it?

Then a few nights later, I dreamt of a basement in a house near what looked like a sort of man-made lake. There were water skiers and jet skiers out on the lake, and the house was sort of up on a hill. I knew I wasn’t in a place I had ever been before, but I was being led through this property by someone who lived there. I knew the house had access to this lake and that it was one of the features that made this individual that was taking me on tour love it so. He loved the water. Then he showed me an orange dirt bike up on blocks in the corner of the garage. There was something a little odd about that. I think he wanted to use it, not have it sitting there. But it stuck out to me because you don’t typically see dirt bikes on display in houses.

Then I woke up. I knew someone was with me in the room, and I looked down at the foot of my bed to see a young man with long hair swept across the front of his forehead and smiling the best smile. He was so young, maybe nineteen or twenty. I was trying to catch his name, he said something and all I could make out was andy something. Instantly I knew he had been murdered. And then he vanished right before my eyes.

I thought maybe he would be connected to a client that was coming to see me and tried to put this dream and visit out of my head. But I knew his sweet face would forever be imprinted on my brain.

The next day as I was picking my son up from soccer practice, I started listening to Culpable, a podcast my husband recommended for me. I had just finished Confronting, and he thought I might be interested in this one, too. I was driving and thinking about dinner, homework, and what was left on my to-do list, so I was paying attention, but it was also just so sad that I think I was just half-listening until there was a description of a basement. Somehow this basement was so vivid in my mind. It was like I had been there before. And at the end of the description, the interviewee states in the corner of this basement up on blocks was an orange dirt bike, and chills went up and down the back of my spine.

I turned off the podcast and just decided not to listen anymore. The young man from this podcast might just be the person visiting me. But that couldn’t be right, could it? Why would he do that?

As I lay in bed later that night talking with my husband and telling him about the experience, he doubtfully listening with a hint of you are losing your marbles type of vibe, so I reached over to my phone and Googled Christian Andreacchio. I dropped the phone when his image came up. It took me at least ten minutes to halt my trembling body and pounding heart.. There was no doubt in my mind that this was the young man that had been sitting at the end of my bed.

I didn’t want to go to sleep. I didn’t want another dream. This wasn’t something I could do anything with. I tossed and turned.

Several days went by, and I refused to listen to the podcast again.

Then something told me that it would be okay if I started back up. I wasn’t going to be able to get the messages to anyone, and if I didn’t want him to visit, I could just ask him not to, right?!

Well, as I was jogging uphill and listening to another episode, Christian’s uncle is being interviewed, and he is talking about trying to find Christian’s phone. I immediately blurt out, “He didn’t have his cellphone. They took it from him.” Yes, I audibly said this one my run. I talk to myself. No surprises there.

And in the next few minutes of the podcast, it is revealed that Christian’s phone was found in someone else’s custody. And immediately, I knew why the spirit in my room had said, “You know I wouldn’t be dead if I had, had my cell phone.” It was all just for that moment. He wanted me to know without a doubt that it was him that had come to visit me. It was all just so I would know at that moment he had been speaking to me all along. He isn’t releasing new, unknown information to me; he was just trying to validate himself to me in a way I would understand who he is.

My husband thinks I am crazy. Heck, I think I am crazy. I don’t know why these things happen. Even after almost four decades of these types of things happening to me, I don’t know why.

And I have listened to several real crime podcasts, and I watch Cold Case Crime shows, and the victims in those shows haven’t come to visit me. Just this sweet, young man. He is the first.

I know it is hard to believe. I am having a hard time believing it myself. But tonight, as I listened to another episode in the car, his mom read an open letter, and Christian appeared in my front seat and held my arm while she read the letter. “Tell her I heard it,” he said. He is nodding at me as I write this.

It does scare me. It does worry me. What am I supposed to do? What does spirit need of me? I don’t seem to be able to provide it. I don’t seem to be able to understand it. I don’t seem to be able to release it in a way that makes a difference.

I guess the best thing to do is to listen. I listened to Matthew finally, and that led me here. What do I know? I just have to continue to be the messenger and deliver what I believe to be accurate and let the rest sort itself out.

My heart aches for this family. My heart aches for Christian. My heart always aches for those souls whose lives are lost in such senseless ways.

I guess I can just be there for him. Listen as he needs me to and hope I do what he needs.

But these are typically the things I don’t talk about. These are the pieces that don’t fit into the puzzle. Maybe if I talk about all the things, perhaps that will matter somehow. Perhaps it matters to them. I have seen and felt their deaths. They are not alone. I am with them in their last breaths. I am with them as they show me their stories, and when they need me to talk about it, I guess it is time to start talking about it.

I can tell you they are okay. Every one of these souls that have had unspeakable things happen to them have been radiant, kind, well adjusted. They are happy and loved. They are at peace, just wanting to help their loved ones here.

I do say that death is my best friend. Maybe it’s true, maybe these souls just need a friend, and I am here to listen. If that is the case, I will keep listening. I will share what I know and hope that helps them to do what they need to do. And now, I guess I will talk about the things I don’t usually talk about, and continue to speak life into death, even when I don’t understand why. Maybe I don’t need to.

Thanks for listening,

Snippets from Heaven – Part 5

Snippets from Heaven – Part 5

Sometimes the people we love most in the world leave it too soon in ways that leave us wondering if it could have been different. Whether it is an accident because of poor decisions, just an accident or an intentional act; loved ones here ponder alternative possibilities. Often, spirits with these types of circumstances surrounding their deaths will step forward and claim some responsibility for how they left this Earth when speaking to their loved ones through me.

To be the spokesperson for these souls is often gut-wrenching because these souls have some guilt for causing pain and their loved ones are also plagued with guilt and what ifs. Always these encounters are healing.

We have to remember God has unconditional, undying love for each of us – no matter what we do here. Now, don’t get ready to rob a bank or anything, we are most definitely judged by the choices we make here and have to remedy those in heaven, but God loves you. He loves us all. And God gladly welcomes all souls into heaven when we welcome him into our lives; even in the afterlife.

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I want to share a session with you today that includes a young spirit who stepped forward during that session and took responsibility for his death, even though it was an accident. This piece is a little different from the ones before it in the series because as I was writing it, the spirit who is the subject of this piece visited me and wanted some things added. So this piece is written by myself with a little help from a ghostwriter (pun intended).

It was a Sunday in late October when I met Robin and Steve. One of my long-time clients gifted them a session with me.

I had a drive on my hands to get to their home, so in addition to my nerves being jittery because I had to drive CA 152 a windy narrow road over the hills to Santa Cruz; I was nervous about the session. I always am. I am just as surprised as my clients are by how a session goes. But I get even more nervous when it is a gift; because I represent the person who gave the present as well.

In any event, I arrive at a quaint, artsy home, and am greeted by a delightful, cherry Robin and a reserved and somewhat skeptical Steve. But both are gracious, none the less, and warmly welcome me into their home.

As the session starts (and remember my memory is always a bit fuzzy on these) a young man steps forward. He is handsome and strong, and right away I like him. He seems familiar like I know him somehow. (In fact, I had met him at a prior session, but I don’t realize this until the end of the session when Robin helps put all the pieces of our visit together). His charm captivates his listeners, as well as, his fun-loving sense of humor. He quickly takes over the entire session and what he wants to say seems to fly out of my mouth with rapid speed.

He does speak about his death. It is something that weighs on his heart. He continues to explain that he didn’t always make good choices in life, but he knows he was a good person. And I can feel that about him. He apologizes to Robin and Steve for his passing. It wasn’t intentional, he says, but he stills feels like it is his fault. And he continues to thank Robin and Steve for caring for his dog and for loving him so deeply.

 

At this, they bring the dog inside the house, and this German Shepherd warms to me pretty quickly. I can sense that the dog is aware of Andrew’s presence. We become friends.

This young man starts back up again and tells Robin and Steve he is thrilled for the arrival of his new nephew and how excited he is for his brother. There is so much he has missed in person, but he wants them to know he has seen it all from his side of life. Then, he mentions he likes to send monarchs to visit and tell his family hello. His humor is felt throughout the session, and we laugh as much as we cry. At one point, I say that I wish I had a big brother like him and he responds by slapping me on the back and says, “You want a brother, sure I will be your brother.”

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The session goes over our scheduled time as they usually do when I have such a dynamic, electric spirit with tons of energy and loads to say. I learn through the session that the entertaining soul I am speaking with is Andrew, Robin and Steve’s son. It is never lost on me the depth of pain that bereaved parents experience. Nor is it lost on me that my journey into this profession started with a little boy who wanted me to speak to his parents and continues with so many children who visit me and ask me to speak to theirs. Andrew was no exception. He had shown up at an earlier session I had with the client who gifted Robin and Steve the reading with me. Andrew had messages for his mom then, and he found a way to get me to his parents directly that Sunday in October. Children who leave Earth too soon for our standards always find a way to reconnect with their grieving parents.

The takeaways from this session that Andrew wants to share with you are these:

  • We all make mistakes, and we are all forgiven. God loves us so much. Andrew wants each of you to know that.
  • Our loved ones in heaven consistently send messages. What I didn’t even know during this session was that Robin had already planted specific plants to attract butterflies to her yard. She didn’t even know if it would work. But here Andrew was telling her during this session that indeed he was sending her butterflies. She has been caring for caterpillars and watching them turn into butterflies this month; almost a year after our initial session. And of course, they are monarchs.
  • Spirit knows what is going on in your lives. They are alive and a part of our lives here, too. Death stops our bodies, but not our souls. So the nephew Andrew spoke about was just a tiny nugget and the sex of the infant wasn’t discovered until one month after my visit when Robin sent me the ultrasound photo with the message, “IT’S A BOY!” Something Andrew happened to already know during the session a month earlier. And again Andrew, proved this to his mom when several months later he spoke up at an event I had and thanked his mom for letting his dog roam around the house more often. She was shocked! Andrew knew all about the big and little things going on in their lives from his view in heaven.
  • Most importantly, Andrew says, love never dies. It grows and changes even after we have left our bodies. But it never dies.

Copy of Copy of Snippets from Heaven Part 5 figure 3Andrew is so special to me because he helps to heal his parents’ grief from heaven. He always lets Robin know he is near and still has his charismatic and playful attitude. And he may have adopted me for real because monarchs show up around me often. In Hawaii, we had several monarchs following us daily. One day five monarchs flew and circled us. I shared a bit about Andrew with my kids and said he was the one sending the butterflies to say hello. So any time we saw the butterflies in Hawaii this summer my kids would yell, “There’s Andrew, mom!” Here is a quick clip of three of seven butterflies that came and circled above us during our lunch one day.

Our loved ones may feel lost to us, but we are never lost to them. They use all of their energy to try to help us understand that. Thank you for allowing me to share Andrew with all of you. He hopes that what he has shared here will help others feel their heavenly loved ones and be able to connect to them more deeply. And a very special thank you to Robin for giving me permission to share my version of this story and her Andrew with all of you.

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God bless you all,

Michelle and Andrew

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,

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