Edited Part I

This is a portion of my manuscript that I cut out. I thought it would be fun for you guys to read it anyway.
The main character, Tess is an angel who just got sent on a Ministering Mission to Earth. She will be working with one of her friends Valerie, who has been assigned as the mortals Guardian Angel.


To my surprise I found Valerie, protectively hovering near the spirit I had come to see. I discerned Valerie's mood, it was somber—not unusual for her—but this time it was founded on real worry over the human that she stood next to.

“She is surrounded by traitors!” Valerie came to my side in flurry of emotions. "Even her own people are trying to sell her out!” She exclaimed with horror and collapsed with relief in my outstretched arms.

“Who are you talking about?” I asked while I patted her back.

“My mortal, Joan.” She said as she moved back in shock at my lack of knowledge.

“Your mortal?”

“You know what I mean! I am her Guardian Angel, I consider her my mortal.” She shrugged. “So what brings you here? I thought you were training with that Seraph?”

“Dayspring? ...Yea I was, but now I am here as a Ministering Angel—to her.” I pointed at her mortal.

“Oh… well, she gets lots of visitors from our side.” She said in a huff. “She has the Gift of Beholding Spirits, so she sees us all—and hears us too.”

“Wow… that's amazing. If she sees all of us, does she ever get mortals and spirits confused?”

“No!” Valerie said with a look of disgust. “We are see-through, and we wear white robes!”

I laughed.

“I’m really glad they sent someone I know." Valerie said as she gave me a friendly shove on the shoulder. "It can get kind of lonesome sometimes. I haven’t seen Dane in… a few centuries.”

“Sorry" I said understanding her plight, "I rarely get to see Alex anymore." I told her, but Valerie didn't seem to be paying any attention to me anymore. Her features looked frozen and her eyes were glazed over.

"Val? Are you..."

She shook her head and snapped out of her trance.

"She's in trouble--again!"

"Who?"

"Joan, my mortal. She'll be betrayed tomorrow, she is walking into a trap!"

"A trap? What do you mean?"

"Did I tell you how happy I am They sent you Tess." She said again, but with a new kind of meaning. "We really need a discerner, especially tomorrow." Valerie said as she looked back at Joan.

In the distance I could see Joan. She couldn't have been older than eighteen, she looked weary, determined and oddly out of place in what looked like a military training ground.

Out of breath she rested her hands on her knees and turned her head toward us. She looked straight at us and squinted a little when her eyes focused on my form.
She excused herself from the training and came toward us. Valerie exchanged looks with her and told me to follow her into a nearby tent.

"Tess, this is Joan. She's the leader of the French army."

Creating... me.

Our True Identity

So many of the desions we make are hinged on how we view ourselves. We think we are a certain way, therefore we must act the part--much like in a play.

But who are we really?

There is a quote that I came across when I was 22 yrs. old, I can't remember where I read it, or who said it...but it has stuck with me and has changed the way I see myself and my life.

"Life is not about FINDING yourself, its about CREATING yourself."

I always thought I had to find myself, by experiencing things, life... . But I soon found that some of those experiences left me empty, hollow and unrecognizable even to myself. This quote helped me realize that those experiences were creating something else, someone I didn't know.

So I set to work at creating the person I wanted to be. Then, I found myself again--it was me all along who I wanted to be.

It was in finding myself that I lost myself. It was in loosing myslef to creating, through service, that I found myself again.

Novela Watching Grandma Who Fortells the Future

You could say that I am a little obsessed by the supernatural, I can’t help it. You see, it runs in my family.

She runs down a deserted beach, the sun setting on the horizon. She looks back, her dark long hair gets tangled around her face and she stumbles. Driven by some unseen force she gets up again and on shaky legs takes to running again—she is begins to cry and wipes her tears with the back of her hand.
In the distance, his horse kicks up a cloud of sand, and in no time catches up to her. She looks back and stumbles again. In one flawless move he dismounts and catches her. She beats her fists against his bare chest; he draws her to him and kisses her. She slaps him and shouts something in that passionate language—Spanish. He smiles that crooked smoldering smile… she relents… [we sigh] they kiss and kiss some more.

“I wish I spoke Spanish.” You may say still riveted to the screen. “I wonder what she was so mad about?” You sit down, still watching—you are sucked in—just like my grandma.

My Spanish grandmother spent her time doing two things…well three—she did two of them at the same time. She could tell the future and she watched novelas while she embroidered—the latter being an excuse to do the watching. I used to think she was weird and boring, but time has given me the opportunity to appreciate her life. In fact the older I get the more appreciative I am of her quirky influence. For one, I still have a table cloth that she embroidered and every time I pull it out, I wonder "how many hours of novela watching did this take?" The other thing I have grown to appreciate is her ability as a foreteller.
I still remember her bending over me, declaring certain things about my future…things that came true. I know what you are thinking, “Novela watching grandmothers can’t tell the future.”

Well… mine could. One of the times that stands out the most in my memory, happened on a stormy afternoon in Buenos Aires, where I grew up. She was visiting with us for a few weeks, my brother had invited his girlfriend to dinner and she lived in the other end of the City. He was anxious, because she was taking way too long, and in that pre-cell phone era, all you could do was sit and wait and bite your nails. She was in fact two hours overdue.

My brother paced in front of the window, lightning and thunder echoed through our house. My grandmother, more like a fixture than a member of this solemn group, embroidered in one corner of the room; lit by a single lamp.

My parents tried to offer hope, but my brother was full of reproach for himself, for not meeting her at the train station.

“She’ll be here soon.” My grandmother declared from her corner.
No one turned or said anything.

“…And she’ll be wearing something pink.” She added.

We turned and looked at her, half mystified, half believing. Not five minutes later the doorbell rings and my brother opens it. There, underneath those see through extra curvy umbrellas, was his girlfriend—wearing the only pink thing she owned in the world.

My grandmother had never met her, or talked to her. She didn’t know that my brother’s girlfriend disliked pink, and that this sweater was the only one she had.

My foretelling grandmother had a gift. She was wrong about a lot of things, but never about the future as she saw it through her gift.
Some say that these gifts get passed down, generation to generation…and they have.

America

In 1831, French jurist, Alexis de Tocqueville, visited the United States with the aim to write a book about Democracy and culture. While he was here, he was impressed with how religion had no direct involvement in government, yet it shaped it most directly by way of personal conviction.

"America is great because she is good, and if America ever ceases to be good, America will cease to be great." ("The 5,000-Year Leap" By W.Cleon Skousen P.84) De Tockqueville said. And I for one, agree whole heartedly.

We worry about our future, we worry about our children's future, but worry will not fix our problems. We will.

When I was finally allowed to become a citizen of this Country, I had pretty much been raised here. I attended high school in America and College, yet not once did I read the Constitution or the Declaration of Independance. It wasn't until I was faced with my Citizenship test that I had to study these most important charters.

I love this country and I honor the Founders for pledging their lives, their fortunes and their honor for our freedom. If we are to keep it, I firmly believe that we should heed the warning that Monseniour De Tocqueville issued so many years ago--by being good, and teaching our children to be good.

Whoever we are, whatever religion we might have, being good is a quest we must all share if we are to keep our freedom.

We may not be able to run for office, we might not have time to attend political rallies, but we can teach our children to be good and to read the Constitution.

My New Life

My New Life

Memorial Day and Dia de los Muertos.

The Aztec Holiday known as "Dia de los Muertos" is celebrated in November, but its symbolism of remembering and honoring the dead, is akin to our own Memorial Day.

"The Aztecs and other Meso-American civilizations kept skulls as trophies and displayed them during the ritual. The skulls were used to symbolize death and rebirth.


"The skulls were used to honor the dead, whom the Aztecs and other Meso-American civilizations believed came back to visit during the month long ritual.


"[During the Colonization of Central America]...the Spaniards, viewed death as the end of life, [but] the natives viewed it as the continuation of life. Instead of fearing death, they embraced it. To them, life was a dream and only in death did they become truly awake."

I have always found these ancient, non-christian customs from other cultures very interesting. Though I do not claim to be a serious student of Theology, I find that the more we dig the closer world religions get. Sure... there are glaring differences, but I find it interesting that Aztecs thought of this life like a dream, and the next life as being truly awake. Basic Christian beliefs are, that this life is but one step in the great scheme of things. Thanks to Christ and his Resurrection we will all live again and be in essence "truly awake".


Read more: http://www.azcentral.com/ent/dead/articles/dead-history.html#ixzz0pTFvcDeM

A Vision

The first time I met Sapna, I thought, “Oh…she’s 25-27 yrs. tops.” But then she started talking about coming to the United States from India, in the 60’s! “What!” I thought, “That just can’t be right!” Somehow mother nature has blessed Sapna with immortal youth. She is also very spiritual, and that’s why I wanted to interview her.
Sapna, what is your religious background?
Hindu.
Do you believe that the spirit lives on after we die?
Yes.
Have you had any experiences that have solidified this belief in spiritual life?
Most definitely, we feel that we are not the body but the spirit. We are just housed in this body to experience life and learn.
Do you believe that we existed before this life?
Yes. We have had many lives as we are recycled souls. We are born to learn from our mistakes and to then finally merge with God when we get it right! It can take many births before we realize this.
Have you had any experiences that have solidified this belief in spiritual life? If so, would you share it with us?
Yes, my father recently passed away and he lives in California and we live inTexas. He had been ill in the hospital and right before he passed away he came to me in Texas. I was sitting on a Tuesday morning waiting for my daughter to get out of a class and I was waiting in the car. All of a sudden I saw this man he looked like my dad and was standing in front of my car on a busy road and was carrying two bags. He dressed like him, walked like him and had the same mannerisms. He looked lost and was crossing the "road". I almost got out of the car and asked him if he needs help...but I didn't. I just kept praying that this man did not get hit by a car. I watched him walk across a busy road with many cars until he disappeared. I could not shake the feeling that it was my dad. I came home an hour later and there was a message on my machine from my mom that dad had passed. It is said that some souls either come to you in a dream or otherwise to tell you that they are leaving now. My husband and daughter have had dreams but I had this experience. I know it was his way of showing me that he was going to the other side which the "road" symbolized. I believe he did not get hit by a car because I was probably the only one that could see him.
Wow! That just gave me chills! What an amazing experience. Like Jen, who shared another amazing experience, these glimpses into eternity are meant to not only give us hope; but also to teach us something.
How do our lives change by knowing we have not only lived, but will continue to live on after this life? How are our relationships affected by this knowledge?