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Gratitude
for "Embraced"
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I read "Embraced by the Light" several years after
I had complications from a hysterectomy at age 30. At that time I was divorced
with two small daughters. I developed blood clots in each of my lungs, and
my right lung collapsed four days after I was released from the hospital.
My treating physician dismissed my pain as "trapped gas" and told me to
"walk it off". (One thing you do not do with a blood clot is move, as the
blood clots can travel to the heart and/or brain and kill you instantly.)
By God's grace, I passed out each time I tried to "walk it off" and by the
time I was properly diagnosed and hospitalized, my family was told I was
not expected to live through the night. During that night, with my family
around my hospital bed, the lights in my room were turned off with only
the hall light shining in through the doorway. I was in and out of consciousness,
but at one point I looked toward the doorway and saw three figures who were
dressed in hooded shrouds. They were gliding (not walking) from my room
into the hallway. The last of those figures stopped before moving out of
the room and turned to look in my direction as if to check on me one last
time. I did not see a face, nor was there any communication. My attention
was then directed back to the people at my bedside, and I saw the three
figures no more. I kept that information to myself thinking I had either
hallucinated or, if they had been real, I associated shrouded figures with
something evil, although I felt no fear. When I read the description of
the "monks" in "Embraced By The Light," I dropped the book! That
accurately described the figures I saw and finally, another person had a
similar experience with whom I shared the same faith in our Heavenly Father.As I read on, "Embraced"
explained another experience that had troubled me since my childhood. From
my earliest childhood memories, I had periodically dreamed about a particular
house in the country that had an indented porch with doors on both the right
and left for entrance. I would walk up a stone path and always go into the
door to the left. I could describe the room in detail and would walk across
the room to a window where I would look out upon a beautiful pasture in
a valley.When I was pregnant with my first
child and visiting my parents, they decided to take me for a ride in the
country many miles from their home to my great-grandmother's "old home place."
She died three years before I was born and the farm was sold upon her death.
As we started down the road, I recognized it from my dreams! As we approached
the house, I described to my parents each and every detail of the room,
including the wallpaper on the walls. The house was dilapidated and being
used for hay storage, enclosed by a barbed wire fence with cattle grazing
all around it. Although eight months pregnant, I was adamant about getting
into the room from the left entrance. Fortunately, there was no hay stored
in that room and I easily opened the door. It was exactly as in my dreams
and as I described to my mother before we were even close to the house,
right down to the wallpaper. (By the way, I took a piece of the wallpaper
from the walls and have it framed in my home.) My mother assured me that
I had never been there as a child or at any other time in my life. That
room, she told me, was my great-grandmother's bedroom that she recalled
from her childhood. Betty's explanation as to the memories of our ancestors
being passed down through cells and DNA helped me to understand why and
how this house was so familiar to me in my dreams. Further, my great-grandmother
was one-quarter Cherokee Indian.A couple of years after I read
"Embraced by the Light," I had two awesome dreams that I feel
compelled to share. Other than the dreams about the house described above,
I never took much stock in dreams or their meanings as most were just jumbles
of thought fragments from day to day activities or stress. These dreams
were different because they were from our Father and they were for a purpose.
Hopefully in sharing them with you, they will give you a sense of the same
joy I felt.In the first dream, I found myself
in a crowded auditorium where people were standing shoulder to shoulder
listening to someone speak on a stage at the front of the room. As I reached
the middle of the crowd, I remarked to the unknown person beside me: "I
recognize his voice, that's the Lord!" Immediately Christ appeared near
an exit door at the side of the building and signaled with his head for
me to follow him outside with a smile on his face that said (without words)
lets go have some fun. When I did, we were on a beach. Without an audible
word spoken he indicated that I was to pick up the corners of a large canvass
that resembled the sail of a boat. As I picked up the back corners, he picked
up the front corners holding it behind him as he walked ahead of me. I can
still see and feel the fibers and texture of that material that I was holding.
Better still, I can still see His face as he looked over his shoulder at
me and, with the sense of humor Betty describes, suggested I look down.
When I moved the canvass out from my chest, I saw that I was walking on
water behind our Lord! I can still feel the breeze on my face and smell
the salt air each time I relive this wonderful dream. Best of all I can
see the delight, humor, and sheer joy that emanated from our blessed Savior!In less than a week I had yet
another dream. In this one, I was studying and contemplating a statue of
Christ carrying the cross on his back. As I looked closer, the statue moved
away from me and He stood up and reached out his hands to me. I ran to him
as you would a dear friend that you were happy to see after a long time
apart. When I reached him and grasped his hands, my thumbs went through
the nail holes in his hands. I immediately released his hand, saying how
sorry I was that I hurt him. He responded: "My child, that's what they're
there for," and I woke up.It has been almost three years
since I had those dreams and they are still as vivid as the night I was
granted those blessings. I have been in and out of various churches, never
really finding my niche in organized religion, but keeping a stronghold
on the love and faith in our Father. Betty's books have helped me fill the
spiritual voids that have not been met by churches, and I thank her for
sharing.Not long after these dreams, I
started having panic attacks while driving. I was amazed to read in "The
Awakening Heart" that Betty, too, had suffered from these emotionally gripping
experiences after her death experience. I continue to struggle, having tried
antidepressants that caused side effects worse than the panic attacks, and
recently hypnotherapy. Hopefully, with faith and God's help (and I ask for
your prayers) that I will be freed from this malady that I realize is a
spiritual attack. I know that fear is the opposite of faith, yet it is overwhelming
sometimes when I get on the interstate highways or sometimes even just driving
to and from work.I work as a paralegal in a very
stressful law firm. For many years I worked on criminal cases, primarily
death penalty cases. When I found this website and read
of Betty's experience in Texas, it further confirmed my need to write.
I have never had a client receive the death penalty. However, I worked on
a death penalty case where a 23-year-old woman killed, then burned the body
of her stepson while she pregnant with another child. I had a stepson the
same age as the child she killed and begged God for help and emotional support
to do my job in that case. I ultimately learned to love our client, though
certainly not the crime, but I know the emotions Betty experienced in dealing
with the Texas inmate. As I walked into court with our client on the day
she was to be sentenced to 25 years without parole, she asked that I continue
to touch her back to let her know I was still behind her. My picture appeared
in People magazine in an article about her and all I could see was my puffy
eyes where I had been crying, but I knew my hand was on her back. I know
the struggle we humans have to learn to love the unlovable...but that is
what we are instructed to do by the Father. I thank you for the stand you
have taken against the death penalty and for standing beside that young
man in his final hours.There are many other stories of
similar experiences I could share, but I wanted to adequately express the
deep gratitude I have for Betty's work and to let her know I am another
kindred spirit who understands her mission.  Virginia Harris |
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Copyright
© 1992-2002 by Betty J. Eadie |
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