As I began giving messages to the congregation of the Spiritualist church that I was serving, I felt the spirit of an elderly gentleman who wanted to touch in with someone in the room. I described the frail, white-haired fellow: He was resting with his eyes closed in a hospital bed. The man’s energy was very tired, and it felt like drawing breath was exhausting. But he was not in pain. He was at peace, and was comfortable knowing that his soul was in transition to the next life, and even though he was weary, he wanted someone to know that he loved… Who? Spirit then showed me a garnet ring on his finger. “Does anyone know this gentleman?” I asked hopefully. But the congregation’s silence told me nobody wanted to accept this dying man.

It’s not unusual for me to feel the presence of someone who is in the process of passing over. Depending on the circumstance, individuals who are getting ready to leave their body behind permanently often allow their soul to “explore” the afterlife by meeting with their loved ones who have already passed into spirit. I’ve also found this happens with Alzheimer’s patients who are in the last stage of dementia; it’s as if there is a part of their mind that never breaks down, and before they cross over and rid themselves of their troubled brain, their still clear-thinking mind-essence reaches out to friends and loved ones here and in the next world.

So I wasn’t surprised or saddened to feel the energy of someone who was still physically lingering. What was troubling, though, was that no one was claiming this dignified gentleman. And despite his bodily weakness, he was trying so hard to come through.

I refused to take “No” for an answer. I refused to let him go.

I stepped off from the rostrum in front of the congregation and walked down the aisle and repeated my description of the gentleman, hoping the portrayal would jar someone’s memory. I repeated it again. Still, no takers.

Okay, c’mon, guys, I mentally egged by guides. Really help me with this one. Guide me to the person who needed to hear this message..

My eyes went to a grey-haired woman with tightly rolled curls, who was sitting in an aisle seat near the back of the room. She wore a simple long-sleeved blouse and slacks. As I approached her, she smiled up at me with an amused, yet puzzled expression. My breath quickened as I asked her, “Did any of what I said make any sense to you?”

She leaned forward. “I’m so sorry,” she said softly, with a trace of an Eastern European accent. “Could you please repeat what you said? I’m not hearing too good.”

A warmth spread through my chest, and I knew I was with the right person. With a louder voice, I described the elderly man to her, and she nodded enthusiastically.

“Yes!” she said, and her face filled with a rosy glow. “That’s my husband Johann. We married 63 years! We going to visit him in hospital after church. We,” she said, gesturing to the younger man sitting beside her, who she later introduced as her grandson, “came here to pray for his peaceful passing.”

“Your prayers are being answered, and Johann wants to thank you for that,” I told her.

Now that the connection was made, he began coming in stronger. “Someone’s telling me his transition is going to be peaceful. In fact, he’s already talking with his relatives on the other side.” I closed my eyes and concentrated on an image of the man and a woman who were visiting Johann in spirit. “He’s a big man with a thick mustache, and there’s dirt under his fingernails. And he’s very proud of that. She’s very close to him, quiet, and half his size.”

“Yes!” She said happily. Tears were in her eyes. “That sounds like my husband’s mother and father.”

I almost felt like crying myself as I repeated Johann’s thoughts: “Your husband wants you to know that he’s very thankful that you come to visit him and that you pray for his painless departure from this world.  He tells me your prays will be answered shortly. He also wants to thank you for marrying him. You are a good companion. He wants you to know he loves you very much.”

“Oh, bless you,” the woman said, wiping her eyes with a white cotton handkerchief she pulled from a sleeve in her blouse.

At the social hour after the service, Agatha introduced herself to me. She called herself a lifelong Spiritualist, so she was not afraid of her husband’s passing – she just wanted him to face his physical end without pain. Lung issues had troubled him, and he was now on a morphine drip.

“I’m so happy to know he not suffer,” Agatha said. “Good to know family is there waiting for him. My hope is when it my time, he be there, waiting for me.”

I assured Agatha that was the case – then again, as a lifelong Spiritualist, she would know that we never go home alone. Still, it’s always comforting to hear those reassuring words that love survives our physical life, and loving spirits will welcome us and walk with us as we enter eternity. I turned to my husband, who was sitting beside me and eating a chocolate-chip cookie, and gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

If you have any questions or comments on this subject or on any other spiritual matter, please write me at mail @ carolynmolnar.com . And please visit me again!

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