Saved by an Angel (27 page)

I began having recurring nightmares, but one night, Elizabeth visited me in my dreams. At first, the dream started out like so many others: I was alone at home, it was dark, and I was terrified. I was sitting on my bed when I heard footsteps in the house. I immediately went to the closet, got in, and closed the door. I could hear the footsteps growing louder and closer. I could see this person coming to kill me. The person entered my room and walked right up to the closet door. After what seemed like an eternity, the door slid slowly open. Elizabeth stood in front of me, hands held out. She said, “It’s okay, Charlton, you can come out now.”

The nightmares ended after that. I have kept my sister Elizabeth close to me all these years, and I’ve just named my baby girl after her.

A M
ESSAGE FROM THE
O
THER
S
IDE
by Christine Lamberth

My husband and I were going through a very trying time in our relationship, so on one particular night, I prayed like never before for help.

When I fell asleep, I dreamed that I was on a beach with a man in a wetsuit. I wanted to talk with him, but there was a fence separating us. I told him that I wanted to cross over and did not know how. He said that all I had to do was put out the thought, and trust. So I did, and I was lifted to the other side. Once I was standing before him, I proceeded to explain who I was. He patiently listened to me, before telling me he knew who I was and that I was pregnant.

While on the other side of the fence, I requested that he help my husband; however, he told me he could not interfere. He said that my husband was learning lessons and was on his own path. With that final message, I woke up, and shared this dream with my husband, who informed me that his father had died 15 years ago while diving with him in the ocean.

It turned out I really was pregnant at the time—just like my husband’s father had told me in the dream. I had a little boy, and we named him Christopher. This dream has given me faith in angels as our guardians.

“D
ON
’
T
T
RY TO
E
XPLAIN
I
T
”
by Tracy Cockerton

I had a dream about being at a festival or ceremony in Burma. My mother-in-law’s grandmother was there. She was a small, dark, elegant Burmese lady in ceremonial dress. I had been watching the festivities, when she came up to me and gave me a Buddhist blessing.

There was someone, a Western woman, sitting farther down from me asking no one in particular what they were doing, in an ignorant kind of way. Grandmother Nat-thamé (a high Buddhist rank she attained) took my face in her hands and said to me, “Don’t try to explain it to them; they won’t understand.”

She poured so much love on me that I didn’t want her to go when the dream ended soon after. I said, “I love you; don’t go!”

I woke up in the morning, still with the overwhelming feeling of love that had been showered over me. Subsequently, I spoke to my mother-in-law, and she confirmed the description of her grandmother, whom I had never met in life. She also told me that she had been praying to her, asking her to look after me.

The meaning of Grandmother Nat-thamé’s message was clear. I have been learning Reiki, feng shui, and pranic healing in the last few years, something my parents don’t understand. I had been trying to explain the importance of these new interests to them, telling them that they were not just hocus-pocus, airy-fairy pursuits, but I couldn’t convince them.
Don’t try,
Grandmother had said. To date, I have not said a thing, and my parents haven’t asked. Maybe one day they will understand.

Chapter 9

D
REAMS
, M
EDITATIONS, AND
N
EAR
-D
EATH
E
XPERIENCES
I
NVOLVING
A
NGELS

M
ESSAGES FROM
A
RCHANGEL
G
ABRIEL
by Tia Johnson

Two and a half years after my grandmother passed away, my mom received a phone call from the aunt of a family friend (my grandmother had been his best friend), saying that he was in the hospital. Somehow I “heard” the word
cancer.
(My mom later confirmed that he did indeed have cancer.)

About a week later, I remember being seated on the subway, waiting to get off at the last stop, when I heard a loud and clear voice: “You don’t have much time to go and see him. In fact, you’re already late. He doesn’t have long, so you need to go and see him if you want to do so before he leaves this earth.”

That’s when I asked, in a semi-trance state, “Who is telling me this?”

“This is Archangel Gabriel, the messenger,” was the kind reply. “I bring you news.”

Roughly a week later I received another message from Gabriel: “Too late—he’s gone. But he doesn’t blame you, so don’t feel bad for not seeing him. He knew that you wanted to come but couldn’t. Don’t beat yourself up about it. He is safe. He is being debriefed on his life, and is spending time with your grandmother and grandfather. He is at peace.”

Two weeks after that, my mom received the news that the friend had indeed passed and that his body had been cremated. I was shocked to hear confirmation of his death, and I never again questioned what the “voices” told me.

T
HE
B
IG
B
LUE
A
NGEL OF
P
EACE AND
L
OVE
by H. Titus

It has been almost seven years since the passing of my beloved grandmother. I grew up with her; she was my other mother. So many days, I remember running across the field to her house just to help her make cookies or to watch the game show
Classic Concentration
with her on the little black-and-white countertop TV set.

I would always go to Grandma’s house with the excuse of wanting to dust for the quarter she gave me. We both knew that the real reason was that we loved each other’s company.

I clearly remember the day of her funeral, and like a movie in my mind, I still see myself as the last one standing there at her grave after everyone left. Numb with grief, I had no tears to cry, no feeling anywhere. That day, and the feeling of being alone, has always haunted me.

Sometime later, I was feeling especially lonely and desolate. I took the day off of work and drove to the small graveyard in the small town in the countryside where my grandmother was buried. When I got there, I sat next to the headstone and cried for the first time since her death. I admitted that I was angry with God. Why did someone I love have to die of such awful cancer? Why were children hurt? What did she do to deserve this? What did
I
do to deserve this? But no answers came, and I left the cemetery feeling just as alone as I’d felt days before.

That night, I had a very powerful dream: With my back to the headstone and my head bent, crying to God, I could see a big blue beautiful angel over my left shoulder, watching me from above the headstone. I knew upon waking that my grandma was in a better place, and that all was as it should be, even if I did not understand why. That dream, although simple, left me with a great feeling of peace and love.

D
REAMS OF
H
EALING
G
UIDANCE
by Sandara Smith

I was in Santa Fe, attending a class about massage therapy and spirituality. That night I got a strong urge to call my mother and check on my father. When Mom got on the phone, she told me that Dad was ill, and that she was taking him to a cancer clinic in Temple, Texas, within the next few days. I am still amazed that I called home at that time, but I feel the spiritual work I had been doing in my class opened me up to my angels’ guidance.