A Message from Beyond
It’s 2 a.m., and I’m sound asleep when suddenly there’s a strange and very large man standing right beside my bed – about a foot away. He’s wearing jeans, a dark t-shirt, and an unbuttoned flannel plaid shirt. He’s not trying to scare me; he’s just casually standing there looking at me – rather sweetly.
But he does scare me; It’s the middle of the night and I don’t know him. As all of this information processes through my sleepy brain, I’m already screaming “Who are you?” and struggling to sit up in bed. Now my husband, our two kids, the cat and the dog are all wide awake – yelling, “What’s wrong?” and making lots of commotion.
But I don’t notice them, because I’m still seeing this man beside the bed – quite clearly – even as I sit up, and even as my husband turns on the light. Only then does the stranger very slowly, lingeringly, cell by cell, vaporize in front of me. There’s a slight crackling sound as his form disappears before my eyes.
“It’s just a dream. Go back to sleep,” My husband, Gene, announces. But I can’t go back to sleep. I can’t believe he wasn’t a real flesh and blood person standing there.
“You didn’t see anybody standing by the bed?” I demand to know. But Gene is giggling – laughing at me. “Sue you need to be nicer to these spirits. You invite them to give you messages for clients, and when they get here you yell at them.” He’s laughing as he turns off the light and slides back down against his pillow – snoring peacefully within seconds.
I am wide awake and confused now – pacing in the bedroom, opening closet doors, checking hallways. Certainly this man was real flesh and blood, a burglar, are the doors locked? I saw him so clearly!
I never get back to sleep that night as I run this image through my mind over and over. I’m used to precognitive dreams, yes, and even seeing the quick flashes of spirits with their messages for loved ones. But this was something else… this was right out of Star Trek. This was a solid apparition complete in flesh and blood – and only inches from my face.
In the morning it’s back to being mom, making breakfast, driving the kids to school, and then a phone session with a new client from New Orleans named Elizabeth. Before the phone session, I meditate on her life and career path – which I pick up from the vibrations of the numbers in her birthday. I can see how powerful she is – a large and magnificent spirit here to do something great. I’m excited to work with her.
Later as we’re talking, I can tell she’s fallen “off-path” – not quite living up to the big work she came here to do. She’s running a business that’s frustrating her, and there are other disappointments weighing her down. Her voice sounds tired.
She tells me the story of losing her young daughter to a terminal disease 20 years earlier. “I lost my faith in life then,” she remembers. She tells me about meeting Jim, a man with a large spirit and generous heart who became her best friend, mentor, and business partner. Together they discussed the big questions of life: Why are we here? Where are we going when we die? Is there an after-life?
These discussions comforted Elizabeth because she wanted to know that her daughter’s spirit did indeed exist in an after-life – where she might find her again someday. Elizabeth and Jim make a promise to each other. Whichever of them dies first will return with a sign to show the other that there is indeed an after-life.
Tragically, Jim dies of a sudden heart-attack not long after they’ve made their promise to each other. Elizabeth waits and looks for a sign, but sees nothing. This saddens her deeply as she tries to live with the belief that there is no afterlife, no spirit life – just this seen “reality” that we exist in day-to-day. This weighs on her – causing depression. What purpose is there in this meaningless existence, she wonders?
While Elizabeth is telling me this story, I’m jumping off my chair saying, “Wait, wait… let me describe Jim to you.” I describe the man standing beside my bed who I can still see in great detail… down to his large belly and grey hair. I explain how kind and good he seemed – not trying to scare me – but putting tremendous effort into materializing before my eyes – so that I would not forget him, so that I would not go back to sleep, so that I would remember to tell Elizabeth when we talked in the morning. I can feel the great love he has for Elizabeth, and the energy he has poured into getting this message to her.
As I tell her this, I can hear she’s crying… “Really, do you believe that?” she asks me tearfully. “That was really Jim?” I can feel Jim beside me now urging me on. “Elizabeth, if I can tell you anything that I know is absolutely true – it’s that Jim desperately wants you to know there’s an afterlife, and the spirit world is real.” She is sobbing when we hang up.
Weeks later, through a strange series of events, I meet Elizabeth in person. She tells me how important the message from Jim was, and how it’s reopened her ideas of what life is about and why we’re here. “I’m getting back in touch with my spirituality,” she tells me.
I’m very relieved knowing that this powerful, beautiful woman, on an important journey in this lifetime, is back “on-path” – realigning her life and work to be more meaningful. I remember the dark years after my husband died when I was 29, and I fell “off-path” — not doing my true work or being my true self. I’m deeply grateful for the people who nudged me back “on path” to the work I came here to do.
The only question to ask yourself is: Do I believe in the unseen realms or not? That question will get you to the core of your own personal journey and what may be stopping you from doing your great work or living your best life.
If you embrace the knowledge that we are made of energy, and all of us are spirits on a chosen path to do our unique work in the world and raise the vibrations of the planet – you’re on your path.
If you can’t say that you believe that, reach out and ask for a little clarification, maybe a message from beyond. There are lots of “sensitive” people around, like me, who are more than willing to give up a good night’s sleep – to help you find your way back home.