I was raised Catholic, but since I was a child, I never understood religion. My mom raised me right, she instilled in me very good values and was a wonderful loving mother. Somehow, I kept questioning religion. I learned my catechism, and did my first communion and confirmation, because I was trying to be a good daughter.
It started when I asked my mom why it was, that the Bible tells us that we can pray to Jesus, and worship only Him. So why then, were there saints in the churches, and people pray to them? She said saints intercede for us, they speak to Jesus for us. I still insisted that I can pray to Jesus myself, and didn't need extra help. I am still trying to figure this one out even as an adult.
I now ask angels and spirit guides, to help me along my journey here on this earth. I receive signs and help often. I am grateful to them, and I try not to ask for help too often.
I also pray every night, and I give thanks to Jesus for giving me all that He has. I feel grateful and blessed often. I have had hard times in life, and I always had an understanding, since I was a child, that God has His reasons. He leads us on a path that we chose. I chose this path before I was put on this earth, because I have lessons I need to learn. I have gone through difficulties in life, so I learn what I didn't learn in past lives. I feel like I am in school, I chose to take the classes needed to pass on to the next grade. My goal is not to "graduate" or be perfect. My goal is to be better today than I was yesterday. My goal is to learn from my mistakes and grow to be a better person.
There have been things in my life that I didn't understand. My mom was patient and very open minded. She told me that sometimes, we won't be able to explain some things away, so they should be just taken "as is", or I will drive myself mad trying to explain things away. The first of which, was experiencing spirits around me since I can remember. I was 5 when they started making such a racket in the middle of the night, it was making me upset. Not scared, just annoyed.
The next unexplained thing, was the way I understood things when I was that young. I was 11 when I dreamed my mom died. I was so upset, and told her about it. She told me not to worry about it. I was more upset by that, because that is what she told me in the dream. I still remember it! After that, the dream repeated and progressed, and repeated. My mom went into a comma a few months after this and died 10 months later.
I still do not understand why I have these premonitions, when there is nothing I can do to prevent it or change it. I do not understand the point, my husband says I will understand one day, that Jesus allowed me to see these things for a reason.
I had issues when she died. I had been staying with her family in Mexico. I had only spent some time in the summers there before. There is so much to say about this, I will try to focus, please excuse my attention span.
My mom went in to a comma in May, 1981. I was taken to visit her often at first, I was asked to talk to her, see if I can bring her back. I tried and tried. I felt awful wondering if she could hear me, how terrible she must have felt that she couldn't answer me, or come back. Like being trapped in a silent room.
It was about September, when school started, that I asked to speak to my legal guardian (who didn't live with me). I asked if he could please request that the life support machines be disconnected, and my mom set free. If she isn't there anymore, why keep her body working? And if she is, do you think she is okay with being trapped in there? Kept alive by force? The message was passed on to my uncle, who was my legal guardian.
I received a message back, saying that I was a cruel child, and wanted my mother dead. After all she had done for me and she had loved me so very much, I wanted her dead. I told them, she is already gone, please let her go. Their words still hurt, but I had to try, because who else would fight for her now? They took her off life support in the end of November or so. She died on the 10th of December.
My family kept asking me why I wasn't looking distraught, why I wasn't crying. Don't I hate God for taking her? I told them that I cried a lot when she went into the hospital. I knew she wasn't coming back when she went in. I now felt comfortable knowing that she is with God. She is in a good place, a place she earned. She is safe and happy, not hurting or trapped on this earth in a body that wouldn't work. I also said that I cannot hate God, because my mom taught me that God has His reasons and I should not question His decisions. Now if you can explain to me how a child can say these things?
I missed her so much, I was hurting, but I had to accept God's will.
What I did not tell them, is that I knew when she died, before they did. I felt it that night. I remember standing in the bathroom upstairs at my aunt's house. I was looking in the mirror, when the call came. The next morning, I woke up to her saying good bye. I know how hard it was for her to leave me. But I think she knew that I had learned enough from her to be able to make it, emotionally and with faith. I felt her touch my hair one last time, and she left.
This changed my life in so many ways, and it had part in making me who I am today. Maybe she saw my spirit guides and angels who would take care of me after she was gone. I have felt them since, and heard them along the way, but never realized who they were until about 12 years ago.
There are so many things that the Bible and the church never prepared us to open up to. The church insists in controlling us to their advantage.
I feel much more comfortable going to a Christian church, or a non-denominational. People are (supposed to be) more open and accepting. But I will speak of that later.
This picture is the best illustration of what it felt like. I do not look like that little girl, and I was older. But this is exactly what it felt like. I could hear her in my mind and heart. She didn't know I could hear her. I pretended to be asleep, I thought it was one of my aunts, and didn't want to talk. But I heard the thoughts "Poor child". A few minutes after this, I heard a loud knock at the door (I was sleeping in one of my cousin's bedrooms for that night). I heard my aunt yelling that I knew better than locking the door, since it wasn't allowed. I told her I didn't lock it. I got up and yup, door had been locked and latched from the inside. I was the only one in there. I know I didn't lock it; children were never to lock doors in the house.
