Wednesday, February 9, 2011

Caught In The Middle Of Truth Or Reason

Wikipedia states; In traditional belief, a ghost is the soul or spirit of a deceased person or animal that can appear, in visible form or other manifestation, to the living. Descriptions of the apparition of ghosts vary widely: The mode of manifestation can range from an invisible presence to translucent or wispy shapes, to realistic, life-like visions. The deliberate attempt to contact the spirit of a deceased person is known as necromancy, or in spiritism as a séance.The belief in manifestations of the spirits of the dead is widespread, dating back to animism or ancestor worship in pre-literate cultures. Certain religious practices—funeral rites, exorcisms, and some practices of spiritualism and ritual magic—are specifically designed to appease the spirits of the dead. Ghosts are generally described as solitary essences that haunt particular locations, objects, or people they were associated with in life, though stories of phantom armies, ghost trains, phantom ships, and even ghost animals and numbers have also been recounted.
  If you have been reading any of my posts then you know my belief in ghosts is ambivalent. I have had many experiences with those beings that no longer have a body that needs air to breathe and blood flowing through their veins. I have been confronted
by a being that I cannot prove if it was a ghost, a presence, or a spirit. It could have been a dream. My brain tells me it was a dream. I want to believe that those visits were more than just a dream. It would validate my sanity to the point that my belief system could accept that a living, breathing person could travel in different planes of time. I am a believer in a creator that created all things in 6 days and rested on the seventh. I believe, as the Bible states, that Jesus the Christ, was the son of God, he was crucified and after three days, he arose from the dead. If I find this so easy to believe, why do I have such a hard time to believe that someone, after death, can visit me in some other form. Why is it such an internal struggle when I have these dreams that I document? When I was 11 years old, my brothers and I were walking across the field to catch the bus when I was hit by such a sense of foreboding, a sense that something bad was about to happen that I turned around and started home. My brothers ask what I was doing and I could not explain it, so, I just told them I was sick. I heard the bus leaving as I reached our house and my mother got all over me for missing school. We had only one vehicle, so she couldn't take me to school. I had a little sister that was 4 years old and we were sitting in the den watching television when I heard an ear splitting scream. I ran to my mother's room and she was lying on her back, clutching her chest. I ran to the phone and called the plant where my Dad worked. The plant operator asked me what extension he worked. I did not know what she was talking about. However, I did say "extension 36." My dad was immediately on the phone. I told him that Mom was on the floor clutching her chest. He called the ambulance and a few minutes, later, the ambulance and my Dad were there. I was told to take care of my sister. The next day my mother was in Birmingham, Alabama having quadruple by-pass heart surgery. She was the first woman to have that surgery at UAB. This was 1969 and if I had not came back home that day, my mother would have died. Somebody told me to not catch the bus and what extension my Dad worked in. I cannot explain it. There has been a lot that has happened to me that I cannot explain. I do not believe it is through.     theblogmeister

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