Epiphany
Diane Robinson
©
Copyright 2019 by Diane Robinson
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This
is a true story. The initial experience I open with became the
physical verification and springboard on how I looked at, and dealt
with, everything life had in store for me. Belief is accepting the
unseen, until it becomes that which you can see before you. Early on,
I was given an opportunity to actually see the unseen. For me at that
point, “having faith” had already been proved —
and yet as a mortal, the lifetime work continues!
A
promise revealed, and a direction set.
The
night was moonless and still; the time for sleep was near.
My
husband and I were in our guest bedroom after saying goodnight to my
parents a short while before. Minutes after we turned out the lights,
I felt my husband go into a deep sleep … and it was then that
I received an instant communication that would be part of my
foundation forever.
My
mother and father were very metaphysical individuals —
spirituality was an active part of the tapestry of their lives. And,
with the acceptance of a child, everything they taught me was put
into practice — and their lessons never failed me. We believed
in life everlasting, and that the soul continues onto another
journey. And thus, the stage was set for my story to happen.
My
mother had just lost her best friend, Frances, three days before this
particular night — and needing a refuse, she and dad drove
several hundred miles to our home.
More
than best friends, my mother and Frances were also sisters-in-law.
Frances and my mother were sorority sisters in a business
organization at the end of the depression (a bonding experience from
the beginning!). Frances became engaged to my father’s older
brother, about the time my dad moved to the west coast from New York.
And it was on a tennis court in a new, small community called
Beverly Hills, that my aunt introduced my mother to her future
husband — “a man much too pretty to date,” she
confided to Frances after the tennis game. I shall be forever
grateful to my father for wisely convincing her otherwise.
So
for my mother, the physical loss of Aunt Frances was great on every
level — an old friend, a strong female confidant, and for
decades, an intricate part of family dynamics. They had shared …
everything … together.
Now,
for the first time in her life, my mother was having a hard time with
sorrow — because it was absolutely soul wrenching. What a shock
… with all that she knew spiritually, she still lived in a
mortal body. And although she had a lot of living under her belt at
this point in her life (obviously the Universe doesn’t
recognize physical age as a factor in knowledge), a new lesson was
confronting her. With a hurt that goes deep below the skin, my mother
was having a painful time finding her way pass the physical loss of
her life-long contemporary; two woman who had shared both
confidential and random feelings with every step of their adult
lives.
As
I lay my head down that night and snuggled into the back of my
peacefully sleeping husband, I let myself relax … but
innocently sensed that sleep was not going to come for awhile.
And
then, without thinking or asking, my aunt appeared clearly to me …
it was only her face, which seemed only a foot or so away from mine.
Without opening my eyes, I slowly rolled on my back. She was there,
younger than I had seen her in years; with her dark widow’s
peak defined beautifully against her smooth face. I opened my eyes,
and nothing changed. She was there.
“Wow,
that was great,” was the immediate thought that flooded my
consciousness. What peace I felt. She spoke to me, I responded to
her. It was as active as if we were moving our mouths — but so
much easier. I remember thinking, “what can I ask her?”
“Do
you want me to tell mom not to hurt?” She frowned slightly,
and shook her head, no, saying. “Tell her that I miss her too.
That’s the way it’s suppose to be.”
Immediately
a picture was revealed to me. My Aunt Frances and my mother were each
crossing a street in different city. When one thought of the other …
it was received instantly,
no matter how many miles apart. To me, this was my aunt’s way
of vividly demonstrating that love transcends both space and time;
giving proof that their communication can’t be broken. I took
comfort in what my aunt was showing me.
I
also understood why my aunt was reaching past the veil to me. My
mother was hurting too much to allow anything in other than sorrow.
A
few more questions — serving no purpose other than to continue
the talk on my part. Then … my aunt made it clear that there
was something very important she wanted me to tell my mother: “Tell
her not to forget the wildflowers.”
As
soon as I nodded, “okay,” she was gone. The room was back
to normal, and only the quiet dark of night inside our guest room
existed … at least to me. I tried to communicate a few more
times.
Nothing.
She had accomplished what she wanted, and apparently no more
communication was necessary at that level.
And
now to tell my mother. I got up, felt my way through the house to the
master bedroom, and knock on the door where my parents were sleeping.
All the time hoping — yes, praying — that I actually knew
what I was doing.
Hearing
my gentle knock, my mother said, “Come in sweetheart.” As
I entered the room — lit only by ambient light somewhere
outside in the distance — my mother said, “We were just
talking about Aunt Frances. It’s just pass midnight …
and today is the beginning of the third day of her passing. The day
the stone was rolled away.”
As
I sat on the bed next to her, I reached for the hand that my father
had automatically extended to me. “Mama … I have
something to tell you.”
I
actually started to feel a slight dryness in my throat. There was
only one way to tell this, and it was straight on.
I
told them succinctly of how I first saw Aunt Frances. I related what
she said about sharing my mother’s feelings regarding
separation between the two of them. I recounted my aunt’s
“words” in the form of the images she projected to me —
reaffirming what my mother had always believed:
There
is no real separation between those who love each other. Even in the
dark, I could see her begin to smile. Daddy squeezed my hand.
And
now it was time to tell her something that made no sense to me. I was
out of the loop at that point, so I plunged ahead, “Aunt
Frances said to tell you ‘not
to forget the wildflowers.’”
Silence. But only briefly.
My
mother sat straight up and hugged me.
“Oh
darling … this is wonderful. A week before she passed, we were
walking on the cliffs along the ocean. Aunt Frances bent down, put
her hands around a group of flowers, looked up at me and said,
‘Oh
Muriel, let us never forget the wildflowers!’
It was a follow-up to a conservation we had just had. We knew she
wasn’t well, but we both thought we’d have so much more
time together.
And
now she’s letting me know … we do.”
Many
years have gone by now. I don’t remember leaving the room, but
I know I did so shortly. It was a far different one than the one I
entered. For all three of us, a distinct verification had taken
place. A demonstration of what we can’t see … but “know”
exists.
It
was a brief door opening — an epiphany; a divine manifestation
—that allowed us to see clearly what we had known only through
faith.
At
that moment, I easily accepted the epiphany as proof: The two worlds
I was privileged to bridge, was in reality, only one world. And the
real strength lay in the other side of the veil … all flowed
from there.
I
do remember feeling a quick sigh of relief in knowing that I was
actually a
vehicle for their
communication … and I wasn’t making this up from some
misplaced signal bouncing around the universe.
Acceptance
came swift that night. I was a young, new mother, my husband had
recently started the first leg of his dream career, and all was well
with the world. We were invincible. Life had barely touched us.
What
I didn’t know was how deep the impact would be of this
miraculous manifestation, and how greatly it would sustain me going
forth — even without calling on the memory.
This
rock-solid faith became the automatic bedrock every time I needed
courage in the years ahead — where everything I
experienced only added to my unshakeable knowledge that God was there
with me every step of the way. Our communication was active:
•
Only a few years after my aunt passed, my husband broke his neck
while I was 9 1/2 months pregnant with our son. The spiritual world
surrounded us, and wrapped me in a blanket of security I never
doubted. How could I? I accepted that we would be protected. Many
demonstrations, large and small, shown a light on the direction we
needed to take with every choice we made during those critical weeks.
One
major operation and one natural childbirth later, we walked out of
the hospital together, carrying our precious new-born home to
continue our life with our young daughter. The strength we both
received from that experience gave us courage to make many choices
ahead — without fear — for our young family.
•
The same presence was strongly there when my son graduated from
college and entered the Navy to face his life-long dream of becoming
a SEAL. Throughout his mind-blowing, soul shaking, physically
Herculean training, and then during his two deployments, I relied
solely on the power I had witnessed long ago. A power I needed for
both he and I.
By
now, this power had revealed itself to me through divine
manifestations many times in my life. This time I willingly,
intuitively, and automatically suspended
all
disbelief; I knew that whatever
my son’s destiny, he was protected and loved.
He
left the Navy after eight years, and went on to a new mountain
equally hard to climb: adjusting to a world where his life-long dream
had been conquered before he was 30. Finding new dreams is sometime
hidden in the forest of life — and it took him a while to find
his. Wanting to replicate the joy he found in his childhood, he
searched a mate and was blessed with a boy and girl that would help
complete his destiny. Eventually, exciting new dreams came across his
path— different from any he had ever known. He took the risk
and reached high for them. And that has made all the difference.
It
takes faith. It takes vigilance. It takes guidance … and you
have to watch for the epiphanies.
•
My daughter faced different kind of intense training. Leaving
college, she married and had a baby by the time she was 21. Our
daughter was visiting us with her six-week old daughter, who appeared
to be slightly congested; wheezing slightly while she slept.
Something literally “moved me” the day before they were
to return home to the East Coast, and I made a doctor’s
appointment for early the next morning.
Our
doctor found that this beautiful, happy newborn had a life
threatening a hole in her heart, and immediately sent her to the
hospital. She wouldn’t have made it pass another week.
That
day, 11 fluid ounces were removed from her lungs. Two days later they
sent her home with us to wait for six months — on constant
multiple medications — while she matured enough to go through a
five-hour heart operation; scheduled five days before Christmas.
Within
a week, my son-in-law, who had just left the army, joined us. Our
house was going to be “home” for this small new family
during the long journey ahead. The operation was a success, but what
my daughter and son-in-law had to endure watching their precious
child being tied up to machines was, in itself, almost unbearable…
were it not for the continual strong presence holding us up.
During
this twilight zone, we could feel the power of God surrounding us,
including our close circle of friends and family — all were
instrumental in keeping this little life alive.
Three
years later, our daughter’s marriage dissolved under difficult
circumstances, although they’ve since become good friends.
While our daughter did the heavy lifting as a single-working parent
(and eventually earning her masters in an area she once believed to
be out of her reach), we were given the privilege of helping to raise
this now fine young woman — a marine biologist. For my husband
and me, she is an ongoing gift we never expected. My daughter’s
early, life-changing experience with her first-born only enhanced her
faith and courage. She has now added twin daughters to her mother’s
resume — and they are lucky to have her.
The
ocean of life produces wave after wave, never ceasing and continually
changing the shore upon which it rides. My husband … my son …
my daughter … my granddaughter … my own dreams and the
risks I’ve taken to reach for them … all repeatedly let
me know that the living of life takes courage. Every step of the way
the demonstrations of God’s power tethered me. Without active
spiritual communication, I would have been floundering. I never could
have grown from life’s experiences — the physical world
would have put me under.
In
a loud and noisy world, affirmations continue to reaffirm that we are
an intricate part of the same powerful magnetic force from which we
were created. As such, all
possibilities are
available to each
one of us. All we have to do is ask, listen, and accept that which we
cannot always see. The demonstrations will come. I don’t know
how others make it through without turning to that Universal Power.
Just as a child is born needing parents, why would anyone refuse to
accept the continual guidance and direction that is offered us as our
birthright?
Demonstrations
reaffirm the promise that God is present; right here, right now.
These
“jolts” from a higher power, are what keep us grounded in
a physical world — reminding us at every turn that the power of
that
world to work out anything
is
greater than any
problem in this
world. Acceptance is hard.
Now,
in a half century of marriage, my husband and I have faced all the
usual ebbs and flows of life in every conceivable area: geographical
moves, career changes, relationships that ebb and flow on the way to
finding life-long friends, the passing of loved ones and the
welcoming of new life, successes, disappointments, health, finances,
and experiencing every stage of our children’s lives —
and then watching as they became individual human beings with
children of their own. Changes, changes, changes.
It
never stops.
The
big events, no matter how difficult they are to face, are actually
easier to deal with (“we can all rise to the occasion, if we’ve
done our homework,” my mother often told me) … it’s
the little day-to-day events that can get to us. How we respond to
the continual changes in life can test one’s belief, endurance
… and nerves.
It’s
interesting that this is often where our greatest work lies …
and ultimately, our most enduring achievements. Like wave after wave
of the ocean, life is constant … as is the power we are given
to draw from. Drawing from that magnetic force is our individual,
free will responsibility. For what good would faith (and the
resulting tools we are given) be if it were not born of free will?
As
the years pass, those deeply moving experiences — large and
small — demand that you hold tight to a greater, but very
intimate power. The promise of survival and ultimate success is based
on the proven knowledge — through Divine Manifestations. —
that there is
a higher power guiding us. And at times it is breathtaking.
And
yet … in our mortal world … we so easily forget. Maybe
this is our test. Day in and day out.
We
are living in a physical world where gravity makes us appear more
flesh and blood than powerful soul. Too often we find ourselves
asking:
“Where
do I go, what do I do next?”
“How
will I be able to handle XYZ?”
“I
love you Infinite Spirit. But what have you done for me lately?”
S-t-o-p.
And
thus … the gifts;
our
epiphanies.
An
epiphany is a direct message from the other side — whipping
pass the intellect to the very soul of a human. It resonates with a
jolt to the consciousness in a clear and distinct picture. It’s
God’s demonstration — and the message is undeniable.
As
I grow more earthbound with each year, the stakes grow higher because
my investment in this physical life is greater. There are moments,
where it takes sheer vigilance to know, without a doubt, that the
answer — the demonstration — is on its way.
However,
when I choose to put aside my fear and listen, here’s the
message that comes to me over and over:
The
world of the spiritual is stronger than the world of the physical.
As
magnificent as this physical life can be —it is only a
reflection of a greater world with greater power lying just on the
other side of an invisible veil. A greater power that is instant, and
available to all.
And,
a lifetime of living has proved to me that it is a power with
methods of achievement, and
intricacies of miracles, that leave
the physical world … the world of gravity … in the
dust. The only requirement expected of us: faith and thanksgiving.
But,
too easily life distracts. I still struggle at times to remember that
there is no limit my supply, and everything
comes directly from a higher source.
I
look for the epiphanies. Then, this forms in my consciousness:
The
image of one powerful entity overtaking and evaporating any
“condition” of this physical world.
Much
faster than I can “create” in my limited mind, this comes
to me in various distinct pictures. But, the underlying message of
the epiphany is always the same: “I will show you the way —
all is well — and nothing but good is coming forth.”
This
doesn’t come from a child-like fantasy — these
demonstrations are messages from the creative force of which I am a
part — and have proved themselves to me more times than I can
count.
Spirituality
is work, daily work. Much like protecting liberty, growing
spiritually is a constant in each of our mortal lives.
And
this I know: After all I’ve learned … after all I’ve
been granted, and encouraged to do … I still need
demonstrations. I need
God to talk to me when the pounding activities of the physical world,
my unlimited imagination, and
free-will conspire to borrow drama that has yet to exist.
Too
often when something tries to take focus — something I have yet
to experience (and long
before I’ve been delivered the tools with which to handle it) —
I find myself relying solely on my intellect. An epiphany enters my
life, and in that instant
I remember that I actually have complete freedom to replace false
thoughts of “lack” with “a clear, true, and precise
vision of supply.” So I do. And yes, sometimes it takes a few
moments to complete the visualization of what I truly want, and feel
the reality of it surrounding me. And then to know, without a doubt,
that it is accomplished.
Thoughts
and words are vibrations — proven to be powerful magnets that
are clothed in light. As I allow myself to vibrate to success for
whomever or whatever has taken my focus, an epiphany infuses me with
wisdom through images.
It’s
then that I see sooooo much clearer than my eyes or my intellect
alone have allowed me! Hello there, Aunt Frances.
But
again I say, it takes vigilance. Don’t let your limited
conscious-mind lull you into turning a blind eye because you can’t
immediately see what is being delivered from the other side. To me,
an epiphany is like a giant flashing billboard from Divine Spirit.
You read the billboard as you leave the city. You remember it on the
long stretch of road before you get to your next destination. And you
know that, the billboard’s message doesn’t change just
because you didn’t see it for a while. Trust.
And,
when do we need vigilance … faith
… the most?
I’ve
found that it’s not always the rough times; if we’ve done
our homework, we are carried through the storm. Nor during life’s
greatest highlights; the addiction of success pulsing through our
veins will automatically humble us if not used wisely.
It
is the time when nothing
is within our physical control.
Nothing
we can do to push time along … turn the clock back … or
to “read” the future. It’s the time when we feel
like we’re hanging by a one hand, and we start to feel alone.
All
we can do is … be vigilant. The promises are real — and
will be for eternity. Ask for the epiphanies, expect
divine manifestations; the demonstrations will be there for you to
see. Then, go about your life with the confidence of delivery. You
have been heard.
And,
as another traveler on this planet with you … this I will
guarantee:
Whether
it’s Jesus rolling back the stone, or Aunt Frances delivering
the gift of communication from the other side:
Divine
Spirit will show you that it is
present— and
that there is
an answer —as
many times as you need.
There
are no personal limits on Epiphanies.
Diane
Dowsing Robison . . . is a writer and producer,
and
lives Los Angeles with her incredible husband, who is truly the “wind
beneath her wings.” A son, a daughter, and five outstanding
grandchildren have taken their blessings over-the-top throughout
their journey together — with each family member loving
the ocean as much as they do. Diane’s latest book,
“CHURCH-WALK-ON-THE-BEACH is on Amazon: As a story that
effortlessly opens the door to spiritual communication in today’s
life, it was designed to be shared together by an adult and that
special child in their life.
(Unless
you
type
the
author's name
in
the subject
line
of the message
we
won't know where to send it.)
Another story by Diane
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