it had the most beautiful message. He had written over, and over again, ‘I love you . . . I love you . . . I love you . . . I love you . . .’”
I was floored. So was Sophia. What a great way to let his wife know it was really him.
What a great message for all of us from the souls of our loved ones in the hereafter. “I love you . . . I love you . . . I love you . . . I love you. My physical life ended . . . my love for you never will.”
Introduction
On Labor Day 2009, I was at a small gathering, sitting at a picnic table when a woman sat down in front of me. We introduced ourselves, and she asked what I did for a living.
“I’m a psychic medium,” I told her. Her expression was blank, so I asked “Do you know what that is?”
She nodded. “Are you famous?” she asked me.
“Well, I’m internationally acclaimed,” I said. “Does that count?”
She shrugged her shoulders, got up from the table, and walked away.
That night, as I lay in bed, I wondered, “Why aren’t I more well-known?”
In all honesty, fame wasn’t something I cared about. In fact, I was perfectly comfortable flying under the radar. I had built a good reputation for myself as a medium, and most of the people who came to me for readings were referred to me. I had done readings for people from Asia, Europe, the British Isles, Canada, Australia, and of course, the United States.
Still, her question, “Are you famous?” kept going through my mind. “If I did decide to come out from ‘behind the curtain,’” I said to myself, “I’d do it by writing a book.”
Let us fast forward to March 2010. I was contacted by a woman named Denise who told me she had heard good things about me from a friend of hers. She wanted to hire me to do a reading. As usual, she didn’t tell me whom she wanted to hear from, and I didn’t want to know.
The soul who came through for her and her family the night of the reading was Denise’s daughter Jasmine, who had taken her own life on Christmas Day 2009.
Three weeks after Denise’s reading I was awakened from a sound sleep. “What the . . . ?” I thought as I looked around my bedroom. “Oh, hi, Jasmine,” I said silently so as not to wake up Cheryl, my girlfriend at the time.
“You have to write a book,” Jasmine told me.
“Jasmine . . . honey . . . it’s . . . ,” I looked at the clock next to me, “3:30 in the morning. Can this wait until I wake up around 7?”
“No, you have to write a book for my mom, and everyone who is grieving,” Jasmine insisted.
“Jasmine, I promise I’ll get started on it after I wake up . . .”
“You’ve been thinking about writing a book for years . . .” It’s true. I had talked about writing a book for years. I just didn’t want to write a book about mediumship. I had received my certification in Spiritual Direction in 1999 from the Mercy Center in Colorado Springs, Colorado. I thought I’d write a book about spirituality, which I defined as “bringing spirit into reality.”
“I don’t know what I’d write,” I protested.
“This is what your book can look like,” Jasmine responded. I saw a vision of Elisabeth Kübler-Ross’ book, a series of essays entitled Life after Death.
“I can do this,” I thought as I got out of bed.
For the next two weeks Jasmine was my constant companion, encouraging me as I wrote my book, suggesting chapter subjects, and how to arrange my book.
“Okay, Jasmine, this was your idea, now I need you to help me find a publisher.”
I submitted my manuscript to five traditional publishers. One of them I never heard back from. I received two rejection notices, and two expressed an interest in publishing my book. I decided to go with 4th Dimension Press, an imprint of the A.R.E. Press (the Association for Research and Enlightenment Press).
People assumed that because I was a published author, I was making more money than I could spend. Nothing could have been further from the truth, even though my book was selling around the world. I often spent hours, late at night or early in the morning, talking people “off of the ledge” without being paid for my time or asking to be paid, but still being accused of “profiteering” off of the grieving. I found my savings dwindling to the point where I had no money put aside at all.
Then the day came when every penny I had was gone. I was afraid. I didn’t know how I was going to pay my rent and bills, let alone how I was going to buy food to eat. I became angry and resentful against the souls and the Eternal Light of Love. I went out one day to try to find a “real” job, but heard the souls insist that it wasn’t what I was supposed to be doing.
“What do you want from me?” became my daily prayer. I found myself reexamining my life, my “gift,” and the question of whether or not I wanted to continue doing the work. More than once, I told myself and God that I was done doing the work, only to make myself available to anyone who wanted a reading. If someone honestly couldn’t manage to pay for a reading, I’d waive my fee, even if it meant that by doing so, I couldn’t afford to buy groceries to feed myself.
Looking back, I see now that what God and the souls wanted was my attention. I had my own ideas of how my life would progress, and it wasn’t until I finally gave up on the idea of living my life the way I wanted to live it that I was able to understand that the time had come for me to move beyond being a “medium” to becoming a teacher.
The souls not only needed me to rethink my life, but they also needed to make me a better listener to what they were saying. What the souls wanted to tell me, and I wouldn’t hear, was that the readings I had been doing were now meant for a greater purpose. I couldn’t just be a bystander passing along the messages I heard only to their loved ones. I needed to pay attention to what was being said so that I could pass them along in a way that was much more far-reaching than to just those who were sitting in a session with me.
They wanted me to share what they had to say, teaching and creating hope in the hearts of anyone who was willing to listen. They wanted me to expand my vision of the work I was doing and my place in it so that I would to realize that they weren’t just communicating with their loved ones anymore—they were communicating to everyone on earth who would listen to their wisdom.
The souls were telling me that the time had come for me to write this book and then created the events that made it possible for me to do so.
While the souls cannot tell us how to live our lives, they do their best to guide us, and inspire us, to make the journey while we’re here a little more significant and prolific, empowering us to reap the rewards we can earn in the hereafter for doing so when our life here is over.
They want us to know that they haven’t abandoned or forgotten us. They’re here to help us whenever we truly need them.
I’ve learned a great deal while being privileged to be a part of sessions I’ve eavesdropped on as the souls share messages to their loved ones here. What I’ve heard has helped me not to fear the ending of my life or
