|
Hi ,
Is it me or is this really the time when our deepest issues are being brought front and center for us to finally address? I used to think that all the clearing work I did over the last 15+ years of this work would be enough to get me through the final stage of this laborious ascension. But, that is not the case. This seems to be the time when we face the final frontier; the heavily armored and closed parts of our hearts.
As we move into this Valentine's day energy, I felt it time to share something that I hope will help ease the pain and provide some degree of understanding for those of you who have had those closed areas of your heart blown open.
I've hesitated to reveal this information because I wasn't ready to do so, and because there is still a stigma attached to this type of thing.
For those of you who have followed my personal story, you know I lost my brother, Keith last summer and that loss sent me into a tailspin. But what I didn't tell you is how he died. My brother commited suicide. At 53 years old he has suffered from the form of depression that has the highest death rate with many taking their lives by the age of 35 due to the intense pain.
The day he called to tell me he was ending it all was surreal. I feel like I have been moving in slow motion from that point on. Being in western Colorado made it difficult to get to him, but fortunately my older brother got there just hours beforehand. Keith had decided that he could not longer endure the pain and facing blindness in a year or so he had decided to end things at the time and place of his choosing...as he put it. He intended to use the gun he had purchased.
That Wednesday evening around sundown I felt a jolt in my heart and knew that he was gone. It was as if that gun had shattered me and I lay in pieces strewn across the floor. I was not the only one, that gune shattered every member of my family.
I had grown up in a family that was distant. There was an abundance of discipline but little warmth. My brothers and I learned early to construct shells around our hearts. As the years went by, and with each new wound, those shells became thicker and harder. I've often said that though I grew up in a large family, I grew up alone. Once out of high school, we each took off in different directions. Now as adults with our own families, we live a minimum of 8 hours apart.
What's funny is that we grew up thinking we were the perfect family and my parents and brothers have continued to hold fast to that belief even in the face of contridictory evidence. Any mental or emotional issues issues were considered unique to that family member; not something shared by the family. That all changed on July 27, 2011. Not only did that gun shatter our carefully constructed shells, it blew apart that long cherished belief. Now we stand exposed and vulnerable with aching hearts wondering how we could have been so blind.
They say that once something like this happens you are never the same afterward. My brothers and I are not the same. For one thing we realize how petty past conflicts have been and have let them go. Family has become a high priority. We stay in touch on a weekly basis and when we end phone conversations, we say, "Love you" as part of our goodbye. If you had told me a year ago that my brother Tim would say "Love you" to me, I would have told you you were crazy. We also hug when we get together and the hugs, rather than perfunctory and cold, are genuine and warm.
I feel more alive now than ever before. I knew that parts of my heart had been closed off but I could not figure out how to open them. It appears that only through devastating losses that take us completely by surprise, are those parts opened. Perhaps they are so armored that it takes emotional dynamite to blow them free.
We have only 10 months left before our world crosses the galactic equator. Our guides seem to be pulling out all the stops to get us to the level where we need to be. For some of us that may require a really tragic loss.
Keith often lamented over how our family was so scattered and emotionally disconnected. He felt frustated that no matter how he tried, he could not bring us together. I firmly beleive that his death, apart from ending his pain, was part of a soul contract to accomplish what could not be done in life.
Though I wish with all my heart that my little brother was still here, I am so grateful he is out of the pain. I am also deep thankful that he loved us enough to fulfill that contracct contract. Now we are a family as much of the heart as of the blood. My family may not end up on the same version of earth, but at least I have the comfort of knowing that with their newly lightened hearts, and with old conflicts forgiven, they will be in a better place than they would have before.
If you have suffered a tragic loss of someone you love, I hope this message brings you a little comfort. It is said that Spirit works in mysterious ways. I completely agree.
in service,
| 
Return to Archive
Jumpstart DNA Recoding
We are the Nibiruans, Return of the 12th 