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A Prophecy From a Seer That Helped Steer Me Upon the Spiritual Path

I believe we are all psychic to some degree and most people have a memory or two or more, whether they have shared them with anyone or not. For example, we think of someone and the phone rings. As a matter of fact, I was thinking about my friend Arielle in Indianapolis, IN a few minutes ago. I was about to pick up the cell phone and call him when my little bell on my computer that notifies me of incoming mail went off. I got an email from him. I believe that this type of telepathic communication happens much more often than we think.

The more I think about it and examine my memories and subconscious, the more I realize that I have always been psychic and able to tune into the spiritual realm. When I did my psychic development training with my teacher Mary many years ago, she told me that part of my training would be to train myself to enter a kind of hypnotic altered state and be able to recall some of my early psychic experiences. I still remember his words: “Michael, since you already have some experience in hypnosis, you would make an excellent subject and be able to go into deep levels of trance. But that’s not really necessary. You can actually meditate and put yourself in a kind of trance to retrieve any information you that you want to access. I can teach you how to get started.” I found the idea interesting and fondly remembered the stage hypnosis show I witnessed in high school and when the mentalist “The Amazing Kreskin” initiated it during the summer of my freshman year of college in music therapy class and my friend Martina.

Everything Mary said turned out to be true. I taught myself to enter hypnotic states of mind where I could recall vivid childhood (and later past) memories. There is one memory that I can recall as vividly as if it were happening right now. It was when I learned to speak. Some of the first words that came out of my mouth weren’t mommy or daddy, but “pine faces.” It took me a while to catch the exact pronunciation of the words, but I wanted to say ‘friendly faces’. I look up and see these different spirit faces all smiling and waving at me. I would laugh, point my fingers in the air, and repeat, “Feny faces.” Ugly faces. “Who are you talking to” asked my mother? laughter. “Do you have an imaginary friend?” He thought it was fun, although I don’t think he ever realized that his little boy was seeing and trying to talk to ghosts that no one else could see.

Those early carefree days were short-lived. My father made fun of me and told me not to act so stupid. So my “pine face” disappeared for a long time, and I didn’t talk about them anymore. Sometimes I thought about them and missed them, but they were gone. On a spiritual level, I may have asked them to leave because they were afraid of what my father would say or do. He was extremely volatile and hot-tempered. My father had his first nervous breakdown when I was three. I remember mom running out the door screaming, “he’s going to kill me, he’s going to kill me.” He jumped out and had a gun and was screaming and threatening to kill her. He spent the next six weeks at Our Lady of Peace Mental Asylum in Louisville, KY. Dad has flipped out several times over the years and spent more time in the “crazy house” as my younger brother calls mental institutions. I never told anyone about my “distorted face”, but I never forgot them.

To get away from the chaos at home, the constant drinking and fighting, I joined a local Baptist church when I was eleven. Even then I had a hunger and an insatiable curiosity for spiritual knowledge. About a year later, an eccentric woman began coming to Sunday morning services. Her name was Pansy Parker. He had greasy gray hair and his clothes were tattered. He often offered a recommendation, and sometimes his head and body trembled. It was hard to make out some of his words. Some of the ladies in the congregation were whispering to each other, and I overheard them saying, “It’s that Pansy Parker again. She’s just a strange crazy old woman who rambles on about nothing.” Pansy ignored them but always made sure to keep her eyes on me. I got goosebumps and shivers, then looked away in confusion.

During the “hand shaking” part of the service, Pansy would always try to hold my hand a little longer than usual and look deep into my eyes. My heart started pounding and my knees were shaking. My face turned red as a carrot. One Sunday during the “handshake” portion of the service, a lady shouted “Praise the Lord” and began speaking in tongues. People were fascinated because this almost never happened in our church. I remember Pansy taking my hand as usual and motioning for me to step back a few feet. Then he reached into his pocket and took out something. He moved closer to my face and said in a soft voice:

“Michael, God has given you many talents.” Then he pointed to his head. “Voices have spoken to you and you have seen ghost faces. You will never be afraid to be ashamed of this gift. You will see ghost faces and talk to them again. Be very careful who you talk to about this because they will not understand. They will think you are as funny as Pansy,” he said with a smile. “You should know that God and his angels will always watch over you during the difficult times ahead. God has children throughout the cosmos, and not all of them look like us humans. Some people are far more advanced and spiritual than the people down here. They know you look at the stars a lot. This is because you are a child of the stars. Jesus told my father’s house to have many mansions.

“Your true origin is far from here, like mine and some other people you will meet in the future. You will meet some heavenly people in the future. God and the Spirit will also show you things; give you visions and show you about people. . Things , which will help them. Nothing bad, but good things to make them feel close to God and the angels and know that they are not alone and that they have help. You will help many people with your gifts.” Then Pansy let go of my hand. He put a ten dollar bill in it. I was shocked. I nodded and tried to return it, but she whispered, “No, it’s a sign that God and the angels are always watching over you. And you remember Pansy when you hear from the people in heaven.”

Needless to say, I was completely shocked and appalled. It saddened me that I couldn’t feel anyone who understood what Pansy was saying. I wasn’t even sure it was. And how did you know I saw ghost faces? I ruled that out and forgot the early memories.

This experience in the church made my mind spin and I wanted to ask Pansy questions. I would even write them down and hide my notebook in the dresser drawer. I would try to think of a way to spend a few minutes with Pansy without raising the suspicions of the parishioners. This was never a problem because Pansy Parker never returned to my church after her little talk with me. I kept the ten dollar bill for a long time to remind me not to lose my mind and try to figure things out with Pansy.

Looking back many years later, I wonder if Pansy Parker might have been an angel who came to my church on those few occasions. Did you come there specifically to give me a message of hope? Because after delivering your message, you didn’t come back? I may never know. But one thing is certain. I know I will always remember him fondly and thank him often for the gift of hope he gave me. This memory would come in handy and help me through some very difficult times.

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