Messages From Angels - Hold the Bus: Angels in the Driver's Seat - (post 3 of 6)

Note: One of my favorite parts of my spiritual job description is when I am asked to be a messenger for benevolent angelic forces. I often receive messages for people whose angels or spiritual guardians ask me to communicate when it is a matter of urgency or they are having a hard time getting through to their human counterparts. Many of these people are strangers to me and our interactions last only moments. These messages can be warnings of illness or accident. They can also be intended to clarify or give direction. Whatever they are, I play my role as messenger faithfully.

(continued… click here for post 1, post 2)

“What I am getting,” I replied, “is that your son attributes his pain to his relationship with you, to growing up without a father. This is an opportunity for you to begin correcting that, but you have to understand you will have to set limits and demand that he grow up. It will force you to be different too.” 

“I’ve been working on my own stuff. I’ve been changing,” he said.

“You will do another layer of this work. The pain that your son is dealing with is the same as your pain.”

“I hope not,” he said, “I was sexually molested as a child. Raped. By another man.” This confession felt heavy, like metal.  Psychic pain and confusion radiated from him and the gravity of his situation became apparent to me. I also appreciated his ability and willingness to get right to the point. 

At the same time, as he revealed this fact, a quiet lucidity settled over him and the anxiety left his eyes.  In his voice was certainty, as if the mass of his confusion swirled around one central point of clarity: the devastation he experienced to this day as a result of these childhood violations.  He had the look of a man searching for an escape and a man at a loss to find a way out. I watched his eyes as he assessed the internal wasteland in which he roamed. The faint smell of alcohol wafted from a puff of his breath.

The words of the angels continued and I spoke them to him, returning to the topic of his son’s pain. “It doesn’t have to be the same experience,” I said.  “Our children get a piece of our pain, almost as if we give it to them. Your son feels hurt by you. Were you not hurt by your parents?”

“I was hurt by family members.”

“That’s how it goes.”

Suddenly, he switched topics. “My health. Tell me what you see about my health,” he commanded. 

I stared at him.  He stared at me.  Though he had volunteered information about his family situation earlier, when it came to the question of his health he had offered no facts for me to go on.  I sensed he was testing me.  After all, if I, a complete stranger, could tell him about known health issues, then the other information in the message was more likely to be trustworthy.  I was impressed by his instincts.  I would have to read him cold.  

I continued to return his stare.  In silence I waited for the information to come.  The words “mental health” and “lithium” jumped out of his head. I did not pick up anything else in his body.

I wanted to tell him what I saw but was nervous about embarrassing him.  There is a social stigma around mental illness and I did not want him to feel that I was judging him.  Still I knew that if I was not honest – and did not come forward with the information - he would not trust me or the message.  

(For more, see next post)

Messages from Angels – Angels for Breakfast: Nourishment at Whole Foods

Note: One of my favorite parts of my spiritual job description is when I am asked to be a messenger for benevolent angelic forces. I often receive messages for people whose angels or spiritual guardians ask me to communicate when it is a matter of urgency or they are having a hard time getting through to their human counterparts. Many of these people are strangers to me and our interactions last only moments. These messages can be warnings of illness or accident.  They can also be intended to clarify or give direction. Whatever they are, I play my role as messenger faithfully

At the Whole Foods grocery he leaned on a single crutch and peered into two stainless steel buffet trays -- one full of scrambled eggs and another full of bacon.  He and I seemed to be asking the same question of ourselves, “What, if anything, to eat?”

Yesterday morning, at this same Whole Foods, I had opted for eggs but by the time I had stood in line at the cash register to pay for them, they had cooled into an expensive and unappetizing yellow lump.  I would not make the same mistake this morning.  I walked past the eggs and the man on the crutch, toward the baked goods. 

Actually, I did not even want to be in the store.  I was not sure why I was there, given that I was not hungry and I was running late for the last day of a shamanic dreaming workshop in which I was enrolled.  In fact, before leaving the house that morning I had decided to skip breakfast altogether.  The workshop was exacting and although I was enjoying it, I wanted to slow down and stop rushing, even if it meant missing a meal.

Thus, you can imagine my surprise when I found myself pulling into the parking lot of Whole Foods, getting out of the car and entering the store through automatic sliding glass doors.  “Well, I’m in the store,” I reasoned, “I might as well look for something to tide me over until lunch.”

Now here I was in the baked good section, looking at apple, strawberry-rhubarb and mixed-berry pie.  I looked from the pie back toward the man.  He wore a grubby yellow windbreaker and jeans.  He carried a back pack.  Even his stocking cap was soiled.  His beard and the skin on his face and hands were smeared with dirt.  I turned back to the pie.

“Go talk to him,” the voice of an Angel said.

I turned and looked more closely at the man, thinking as I did that he must be homeless.  He leaned into the food as if calculating how much it would cost to feed himself this one hot meal.  Then the Angels showed me something.  Within my own body, I could feel his hunger -- and not just the hunger for food.  There was also a hunger that many in difficult situations experience – the hunger for laughter, peace, safety, cleanliness, community, beauty, reassurance and release from the strain of desperation.

Though I felt for him, I will admit that the command, “go talk to him,” felt rather general. I did not know what to say and I did not want to embarrass myself, so I stalled, suddenly shy.  Even though I knew it was not true, I justified my reticence by telling myself that anyone in immediate need would not even be in an upscale store like Whole Foods and that my help was not really needed. 

The voice came again.  “Go talk to him.”

Not knowing what to say, I walked back to the buffet and up to the man.  When I got there I improvised and said, “Are you looking for breakfast?”


(for more see next post)

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Messages From Angels - Don't Hang Up: Leaving a Message at the Cell Phone Store (continued)

Messages from Angels

I followed the employee to the corner of the store where she rummaged in a drawer. She had found a charger that matched my phone. 

“I’d like to test it,” I said, “to make sure the problem is with the charger.”


She looked around her to make sure no was watching.  As if handling contraband she fumbled to get the charger out of the box, then cupped it in her hand and held it close to her midsection.  She looked for an outlet to test the phone and assembled the charger for testing.  As I stood next to her, I both heard and saw words form in my mind. The spirits were talking to me. The message for this young woman: “Go back to school!”

I could see that the employee and I had been placed in a situation that would allow us to connect and discuss the message.  Now came the tricky part.  I needed to introduce myself to this woman, a stranger to me.  I needed to tell her that I had a message for her and get her to listen.  This part always makes me a little nervous because it flies in the face of social convention.  In some circles it is considered rude or eccentric to, one, initiate personal conversations with strangers – our hidden suffering is an intimate subject - and two, announce that Angels are talking to me, both of which I was getting ready to do with this young woman! 

At yet, the way the messages play out confirm for me that I am in the company of Angels.  This confirmation helps me overcome any shyness.  In each case, the timing is perfect.  In each case, the messages are directly relevant to a challenge or issue in the person’s life.  This has been true even in situations, as with this young woman, where I have no prior knowledge about the person.  In each case, the messagee, though a stranger to me, has been receptive, positive and even grateful.  In fact, I have found that in a society, like ours, where we are increasingly separate from one another, the act of talking deeply with others is a form of nourishment. 

The young woman and I leaned over the phone, now plugged into an outlet, and watched the little blue bars turn from white to blue to white as the battery charged.  Now it was time to pay for my new charger. The young woman told me that if I was going to pay we would have to be discreet so as not to upset the other customers. “I just don’t want to get in trouble with them,” she said repeatedly. Desperate to avoid any more confrontations with angry customers she suggested: “Are you sure you don’t want to just let the phone charge until your waiting time is up and then come back for your phone?” 

I changed the subject. “I’m sorry. I have to say something. I don’t know you and this is going to sound strange but a few years back I had a spiritual awakening and now I sometimes get messages for people. I have one for you. Are you interested in hearing it?” 

I had gotten her attention. She turned and faced me. “Yes,” she replied in the same steady voice. 

“Have you ever considered going back to school?” 

It took her a moment to answer.  She cast her eyes to the ground and said shyly, “I’ve thought about it a lot.”

I did not let her say much else. Although I wanted to hear her response I felt the need to hurry. “Well, they are saying that it would help you if you went back to school.  You are smart and you have something creative that you can do to help people. It’s important. It may seem too expensive but it’s safe to make the investment.” The emotion in this issue was strong and I felt its urgency. My voice began to crack. Tears welled up in my eyes.  

(for more of the story, see next post)