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initial contact

Posted by SpiritWriter , 21 August 2012 · 691 views

automatic writing ghosts mediumship witches story
initial contact It would seem that ________ is the main voice, the main contact. But she is not, she is like the filter that let in all the characters. Sometimes she becomes them, acting them out. At first she was mainly ________, building our relationship, allowing her to tell me all sorts of things. I have come to accept it as a part of my role to humanity, with the twisted edge of saying it is "based" on reality. The truth is, nothing you read, rings a bit true, with other things you read. Its all just a bumble of confusion. I say, mediumship is for the medium and writing is for the author. It is very well indeed that I'm making the whole thing up.

I have been given hints to this ________ stuff since 2004. Not only in signs and visitations but it came to pass that I had met  ________ one time at the store. This was before she was dead of course, we were at the West Seattle Thriftway on California and Myrtle. I remember her because of her children, they were so bright and beautiful. One was lightly complected and the other had dark hair, they were two of the most beautiful children. They had stopped at the Thriftway to get balloons and so had I. We arrived just after the helium machine had either been emptied or temporarily broken. I can't remember exactly what it was but we had to stand there for quite some time waiting. I remember it was on a Sunday in the middle of August. My daughter was with me. All of us stood there, amidst the plants and shiny happy faced balloons and fresh cut flowers. All of us were dressed up. My daughter and her daughters had on the same dress. Her daughters were dressed like twins. The dresses had a short sleeved, light blue chiffon blouse and a long navy velvet skirt. Both _______ and I had purchased them recently from the Target which was down the street at the larger shopping center. We both lived in the neighborhood. They were coming from church and headed to a birthday party, and we were coming from church headed to a birthday party. We all thought it was so weird and talked at length about things like the weather, the old barista that used to work at the cafe that was inside the store. I remember the oldest one most specifically, she wasn't the least bit shy and displayed alot of character for a girl her age, she looked to be about 8 or 9. She had a particular sharpness to her eyes and a genuinity to her smile. The smaller girl, ________, was shyer and not as vocal, hanging mostly behind her mother. She was a cute brunette with straight across the forehead, pixie bob, hair.

The experience stood out for me all of this time, and now I know why. I have not gone and visited them, the children that is, though ________ insists on it. I say "No." I have to draw the line somewhere. She wants to use my body and speak through me, she says I can trust her. I just can't do it. I am afraid of her taking over me. There is a strong spirit attached to her from another time, she is forceful and reckless and I am under the impression she would leap at the chance for possession. This I would not enjoy even if it were for a short time. I let her speak to me and I let her use my hand, but this is all she will get from me. I have grown to love her family but I stay on the outside. I am like a ghost myself, getting glimpses and pieces of things as we record.

At first it was extremely difficult. I knew from the beginning she was friendly. I did not rebuke her and I did not talk to her. I kept her at bay. There were times I felt her pick up my hand and I would have to shake her off of me. I knew what she wanted but it took me a while to comply. The first time it was most scary. She came to me as a dark spirit. I could not determine whether she was male or female, I wasn't even thinking about gender at the time. Out of the realms of fear she came, the force of her was over powering. I felt the least bit safe. I felt a power in my chests, mind and wrist. The strongest was in my mind where I saw myself being possessed. I saw my hand, joined with another hand, as if it could have been only one or the other. Like in one of those hologram stickers, where you look at it one way and you see a person whose eyes are closed and then you tilt it slightly and the eyes are open. There was a picture in my brain of this hand, it forcefully picked up a piece of charcoal and started scribbling.

The sensation in my heart and the picture in my mind was so strong it was sure to stay on my conscious. I could see the impression the dark scratches made, they were just floating, as if my mind was a paper and the paper were clear and I could see nothing but the black charcoal scratches. The spirit pressured me to imitate what had happened. It insisted that I go, get up and get a piece of paper and start scribbling on it. Besides feeling that perhaps I was out of sorts and all this stuff was nonsense, I knew that if I did this, that I would be succumbing to this dark spirit and I would be allowing it to control me. It was not the scribbling in itself that the spirit wanted to achieve. The spirit was testing me. It wanted to see what I would do. I felt a little crazy. I felt uneasy, scared, intimidated by this spirit and so I sought the counsel of the Lord and I drew his white light around me. Instantly I was comforted and safe and he spoke to me.

I will ad-lib: The Lord said "You made the right decision to seek my light. I will be your protection. Through me you do not need to be fearful of anything. Draw near to the light. I will be your victory and you will also be my victory. You have been chosen, to let my spirit speak through you and I am in all things. I will allow this  _______ to speak through you and you will transcribe the _______ story."

Of course the Lords words were not as "clear" as the text above, it is not written on a stone and underneath my bed somewhere, but this is the jist of what was said. I had made the right decision. It was of value that I listened to my instincts about this spirit, but at the same time he reminded me that I would one day write for him. "Do not be afraid. Things will come to you in their own timing. Worry about nothing," he told me. "Cling to my comfort, I will protect you always." With these words I wrapped myself in warmth and drifted off to sleep like a baby. On the days following I thought little of the instance. But occasionally I would think about the hand, scribbling in my mind and I was starting to comprehend, that one day, a spirit would be writing through me.


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