This morning a male spirit urges me to “make haste, we are running out of time”, as he beckons me to the portal at the top of the stairs. Across the living room and up the stairs I go only to make a gentle, albeit unexpected descent downward. The landing at the top of the staircase has vanished and I, along with my guide, waste no time in traveling to our destination. I feel as though the movement is downward. Then without warning, we change direction, a sudden pull takes us horizontally to our left.

Ending on a solid surface that seemed to rise out of nowhere, clumsily I land firmly on my butt. I feel grass; I see grass, its daylight. I have arrived at my destination, a playground; similar to a schoolyard playground is where I now sit. The playground filled with children, all unaware of my intrusion into their space, all but one. A young boy about seven to eight years of age, wearing a grey zip-up sweatshirt and dark colored sneakers with white laces captures my attention. He waves me toward him, so I stand up, brush off my backside, and follow him.

Without speaking, we walk through the playground. Oddly, with each step we take several of the children vanish from view until he and I are alone. The playground only a moment ago filled with children laughing and running about, now empty and silent. Only the residual motion of a swing gives evidence to its recent use. It was creepy, indeed. Once we cross the playground, the boy stops, turns to me, and points upward. It is clear I am to look up; he takes hold of my hand as we both look up into a blue sky.

A white jet stream following an airplane moves across the sky; “where is it going?” I ask the boy. The boy replies, “It’s going to heaven”. I ask the boy if that is how he got to this place. The boy said, “I was taken away, I was forced to be here”, I pull the boy in for a hug.

The boy quickly changes his demeanor from that of resentment to joy and excitement, excitement upon the resumed sounds of children once again occupying the playground. Before the boy left me to join the other children, I asked him why he brought me here; the boy pointing behind me said, “Because, that man asked me to”.

I thank the boy and wrap my arms around him for another hug before he ran off to join the other children. I turn to the male spirit who is standing behind me and ask him if I could help him. Thoughtfully placed behind me is a bench at which the man gestures I have a seat. Taking a spot next to me, his hands clasped together and his head hanging downward, he stares at the ground while speaking. The man explains to me that it is his duty to watch over these children. He continues to explain how he is remorseful and regretful, following with, “in life, I committed a crime against nature. I am regretful for committing such an egregious act”.

“Why would you be permitted to be near these children?” I asked. His reply was, “no harm will come to them; they are very well protected”. He goes on to explain that making changes and growing spiritually must truly come from the heart and that it is up to him to make these changes. “It is like being around what you most want or wanted in the physical life and resisting the temptation in an effort to truly change and grow. I am now in service in this environment, which is completely contrary to how I lived my life in the physical world. Here, tested, shown mercy and given an opportunity to change my thinking and my heart, to repent and view things from a different perspective is where I dwell. I am constantly reminded of my crime and as I continue to change and grow, my remorse becomes stronger for the life I led during my physical reality and the path that I sought to take”.

I asked him why he did not come for me himself, he replied, “I am not able, not allowed to travel, I am not allowed to leave my level of existence. A messenger, a spirit of a higher vibration had to bring you to me”. He says that he wanted to tell his story as he shows me images of himself in an orange jumpsuit, prison attire. He goes on to explain that being placed here is a constant reminder of what he could no longer have and that it was extremely painful.

I asked him what it is that is bringing about the change in him. He says, “It’s a feeling, an overwhelming feeling that even though you feel you are undeserving, there is a cloak that covers you; a cloak of love and nurturing that is undeniable and inescapable. It makes you ashamed, truly ashamed of what was in your heart before. I can hardly explain it, it comes to you after a period of agonizing, crying and screaming, it was so painful. Once I let go, once it was all out of me I felt like I had released all of my anger, there was nothing left. Only then did love and nurturing overtake me. I’m not the same person, it’s not like they are going to cut me loose and trust me with caring for these children, the children are very well protected. This is my journey right now, I am a work in progress, constantly reminded of the horrible things I did. And this is where I am now, I’m working hard and I understand that this is a consequence of my action and I am committed to doing whatever it takes, however long it takes, to moving forward”.

I ask him, “How is it that you knew how to contact me?” He said, “The word is out that you are taking stories, experiences, and information. Someone will listen and relay our story in an effort to help others. I felt like I wanted to get this off my chest, I want people to know that I am changing and that I am deeply ashamed. I want others to understand the process, I don’t know what others are going through, but this is how it is working for me”.

The man extends his hand; we exchange a handshake as I thank him for this gift of enlightenment. Then I ask him, “How do I get out of here?” He points across the playground and says, “Go that way, and follow the light”. As I walk through the group of joyful children, I feel a tug on the back of my shirt. I turn to see the young boy, as we exchange smiles, he says, “good-bye”.

Gale Stein
Clairvoyant Psychic Medium

[PC-Popup id=6]

Facebook Comments
Comments are closed.
Facebook Auto Publish Powered By : XYZScripts.com