"I died on the seventeenth of July 1996 - Life became very interesting after that."
Suddenly I found myself with Jesus, Archangel Uriel, and a third spiritual presence looking down at my body still strapped inside the wreck of my car.
They showed me why I was here in this life and where I was up to with my life's purpose.
They showed me how this life connects to both past and future lives. Then they gave me a choice: stay with them, or come back and fulfill that purpose.
The price for choosing to return was to forfiet most of the details they had shown me although I would be allowed to remember some from time to time as my life progressed. And I was allowed to remember that they had shown me.
I woke back in my body to pain, a vision of my lifeline, and a promise.
The lifeline vision told me that my life would take a completely different direction.
That vision was the first of many, and many of them are part of Uriel's Gift.
The promise wasn't like, I promise not to eat the last piece of cake, or, I promise to clean my room.
It was more a promise like the first blush of crimson on the horizon is the promise of a new dawn, and that new dawn promises a new day full of wonder, and love, and fun. It promised something magical, and it promised something new and different in a way that felt like a smile.
Several months after the accident in a personal developement class the facilitator, Jayson, conducted a guided meditation that was specifically designed to meet, and recieve a gift from, our sponsoring archangel.
While in meditation, a figure appeared before me and identified himself as Archangel Uriel. He was a little taller than I was, wore a robe like a monk's and his wings were not showing. He held something out to me with both hands: a gift.
I looked down to see a leather-bound book the colour of blood.
Tentatively, I took the book from his hands and opened it, every page was blank.
I asked Uriel, What's supposed to go in the book?
Your experiences. Fill the pages with the things you see on your journey.
Totally confused, I closed the book and thanked him for his gift. I asked, Who would want to read about me? I'm just a bricklayer.
He just smiled. It's your book. Fill the pages. Write what you see.
And then he was gone.
Two weeks later and again in meditation, I was guided to a clearing in a forest where, I was told, if I was ready, one of my guides would come.
Jason was good at taking people through guided meditations. I enjoyed the feel and smell of the forest while wondering what sort of experiences the other class members were having. As I wondered about theirs, I felt sure I wouldn't experience anything worth discussing.
I entered the forest clearing and found Jesus sitting on a log waiting for me. He was dressed in a long sleeved, off white robe belted at the waist. I didn't know how, but I knew that his robe was made from woven goat hair, that it was a workingman's robe. He wore leather sandals that wrapped several times around his ankles and calves; and I wore exactly the same robe and sandals as Jesus. Only I was a small child, maybe six years old, standing as high as the middle of his thigh; and I looked like a child playing dress-up wearing his much-too-big father's clothes.
I sat down beside him on the log in the middle of the forest clearing. I looked up and asked, Why are you here?
He looked down at me with laughter in his eyes. Write your book. All the answers are in it.
He let me think about that for a bit and then said. I will teach you through visions and dreams, through meditation and astral travel, put the things you see into your book.
