Is It Bad or Is It Good?
Lisa, Arkansas, USA
August 2006
My family has never denied having special "gifts". All of my family appreciated this, including myself, until I started noticing that my "gift" always had something to do with death.
It started one night when I was laying across my bed and looked in my closet and wondered what to wear to "that" funeral. I stopped short wondering where that thought had come from. The next morning, my dad told me that my great aunt had passed at about the same time the night before.
The next time my "gift" presented itself, I really got scared and decided I didn't want it anymore. My family and I had gone to church to celebrate our pastor's 25th anniversary with the church. As soon as I walked in, I started shaking and crying uncontrollably. The service had not even started and I felt confused & horrified that I could not stop what my body was doing. Pretty soon, the service began and one of the speakers presented our pastor with a plaque. The speaker had both his hands on one end of the plaque and as soon as our pastor put his hands on the other end, the speaker fell and died of a heart attack. As soon as the speaker fell, I began to calm down. It was as if I could sense that there was something fixing to happen.
As I said earlier, after this I didn't even want the "gift" any longer.
It was really starting to scare me and I began to block out any "gifts" that came my way because I thought they were coming from the devil. However, many years later my attitude towards my "gift" changed.
I had gone through a bad break-up after dating someone for 5 years and I was a single mom struggling to keep up with bills. I was so depressed that I actually thought about ending it all. I was sitting on the edge of my bed, crying, when I had a visitor in the form of a glowing string. It looked to be about 4-5 inches long and glowed a beautiful white. It would come right up to my face and if I tried to grab it, it would fly out of my reach. It kept up this cat and mouse game until I started laughing at it's antics. I came out of my depression that night and have never gone back there again. Now, scary as it sometimes seems, I welcome all "gifts".