"Michael is an archangel in Hebrew, Christian, and Islamic tradition. He is viewed as the field commander of the Army of God."
I am not a holy person. At times, I am not even a good person. Even though I am the first to reject the fundamentalist teaching of the church because of its judgements, I can't lie, I judge too. I'll be the first to judge people by the way they are dressed, by the way they speak, or perhaps, for something as silly as the way they do their hair. At times I can be vain, unforgiving, and merciless. I am always on a diet; I honestly don't know what my natural hair color is (nor do I really care); while there are children in the world who have no shoes, I, on the other hand, have a closet full of the latest styles. . . AND... I am always game to buy more. Fridays excite me because I get my new "In Touch Weekly;" Mondays depress me because there is nothing good on TV; and, I have to say, I really can't stand America Idol. I swear like a sailor, love my good friend Vodka, and, yes, I cheat at trivia. So, it's no wonder that at times I sit in self-pity, shake my fist at God, and ask, "Why me?" I don't go to church. I don't know where my Bible is, and I'm sure when I find it (if I ever look for it), it'll be covered in dust. So why? Why was I given this ability to see the spiritual world when others can't... others who are far holier than me? And as for seeing ghosts? Please! I've been told by many preachers that I am... and I do quote.. "of the devil." So again, why? Why did God give this to me? Why not give this ability to someone, like a preacher, who has invested a life career in teaching spirituality? Why give it to a girl like me?
I didn't have a normal childhood. I realize that now. While most kids were building forts with their imaginary friends, I was hiding in my closet (doll in hand) trying to escape from the scary, dead people following me. While most teenagers went to prom, I was in and out of the hospital watching stumped doctors try to figure out why I had scratch marks all over me, only to find out years later, I was being attacked by spirits. But, to be honest, one of the most confusing thing in my whole 27 years has been the name Michael. Throughout my life, in times of fear and confusion, I would hear the name Michael. It wasn't a faint Mike or Mikey, but a loud, booming MICHAEL. Then at times of peace, out of nowhere, I would get the name stuck in my head... just BAM! There it is... MICHAEL. I have no close friends or family by that name, so I always wondered why this name comes to me. As I have now accepted my abilities, I have asked, "Who are you?" when I hear the name. I'm always hoping that a ghost will appear, but I know deep in my soul that, whoever Michael is, he is neither a ghost nor, taking a safe bet, a demon either.
I grew up a Presbyterian, and, even though we went to church every Sunday, I don't really remember hearing too much about angels. It's possible that I just wasn't paying attention, which I have to say, was a choice I made as a child... not to pay attention. You see when I was little, at a time when I did pay attention, one of my Sunday school teachers asked us, if we could have lunch with anyone, who would it be? I happily said, "Freddie Mercury," and, apparently, that was the wrong answer. Apparently, I was supposed to say Jesus. So, after that little incident ,I checked out and daydreamed during Sunday School. I knew that, if a question came my way, I could just answer with Jesus, and 9 times out of ten, I would be a-okay. So, in saying all that, I can't fault the church I grew up in for not knowing much about angels. Even as an adult, the only angel name I really know is Gabriel, and that is only because the man who played Gabriel in Christmas Pageants every year, at church, scared the crap out of me as a child. So, even though I am a medium, psychic, paranormal, or whatever you want to call me, I don't see, experience, or have much knowledge of this one particular paranormal area, which is normal. We paranormal people all have our "specialties." We're all different. I communicate with and see my own spirit guide; I see ghosts (as you are all aware of at this point); and, the scariest of all, I see demons. I'm also psychic, but not in the way most people think. No. I can't give you winning lottery numbers, nor can I tell you what color underwear you're wearing. (Yes... I get that question a lot). What I do get is information from the spirit world pertaining to whatever case I'm working on at the time. I have met Beelzebub on many an occasion, and with my psychic abilities, I have found pentagrams in hidden places. I can see the color of people's souls (not to be mistaken with an aura... those I don't see, although, some paranormals do). The colors I see behind people's eyes tell me who has dabbled in black magic, who is a Satanist, or who in reality is "of the devil." And let me just tell you (wink, wink), the people who are really Satanist and not "Christian" would surprise you...
A few days ago, I was having a very low day. A day full of self pity and why me's? Although I missed Kyle's company, I was exhausted. When a medium has an interaction with something or someone of the paranormal world, it can be very draining. In order for ghosts to materialize, they have to take some of the medium's energy. It all gets very scientific, and, since science bores me, we'll just leave it at that. I was exhausted, sad, and, once again, pissed off at God for giving me this. It's hard to get to know a good soul and then have to let him go. So on this particular day--as I was driving the hour and a half drive to visit my good friends Kelli and Drew, blaring my music (what else is new), and giving God a mouth full--I also had the looming feeling that I was about to experience something demonic. I was pissed off and overly jealous of other girls my age who only have to worry about work, friends, and boys. I have to worry about work, friends, boys, ghosts, and a damn demon, or two, or four, since they normally come in packs. So once again, I was having it out with God. When I'm mad at God, one of two, or sometimes both, things will happen to me. The first is that the song "Move Along" by The All-American Rejects will play on the radio. If you're like me, you've felt as if you need to "fear" God. You've felt that, at times, God is cold and vengeful. Well, I am here to tell you that God is not that way. God is actually quite funny, and, even when I'm cursing God, God still cracks a joke by ALWAYS having that song play on the radio during my temper tantrum moments. The second thing that happens is what I said earlier: I get the name Michael stuck in my head or hear it booming around me. On this particular day, I experienced both things. After giggling to the radio and then hearing MICHAEL, I yelled in my car,"OK! Who the bleep (told you I swear like a sailor) are you?" And all I got back was another MICHAEL! "No shit," I whispered under my breath, "But, who are you, Michael, and what do you want?" Nothing but silence. Coming from Michael, that was normal. After that, I sulked in self pity and drove on into town.
I met up with my friend Drew, and we drove over to Kelli's house. Kelli* is a spiritual healer. She has a growing clientele, and she has helped me in the past find peace in dark places. I walked into Kelli's with Drew, put my bag down on her counter, and complained annoyingly to Drew and Kelli about my "friend" Michael. I whined that he wouldn't tell me who he is but has been around me my whole life... The afternoon flew by filled with kids laughter, sugar, and adult gossip. As nightfall came, we all sat down at the table, ate some dinner, and Kelli pulled out her cards. I'm not sure what kind of cards she used that night. She has different types for different people, but, from what I understand, she becomes a sort of channel. She senses the energy of the people for whom she's reading and is guided to cards bearing a similiar "energetic imprint" of sorts. Kelli does this with the cards facing down, so, she herself doesn't see which card she is pulling. She pulled a out a card, handed it to me, and I flipped it over. There, looking back at me, was archangel Michael with "YOU CAN DO IT" posted over his body. "Oh my God,"I said as I showed Kelli which card I had received.
"We'll talk," said Kelli as she smiled back at me...
The night lingered on, and Kelli's husband, Ryan, came home, built us a fire in their front room, and offered to watch the children (Kelli and Drew's kids... I don't have kids) while we had our girlie pow wow in the front room. Kelli brought another stack of cards to do a more detailed reading for me, and thus what I now call the "Holy Fire" commenced. Still gripping my archangel Michael card, Kelli began to explain him to me...
In Greek, the word archangel means "the greatest messenger of God," and in Hebrew the name Michael means "he who is like God." In the book, "The Miracles of Archangel Michael," by Doreen Virtue** she writes:
Michael is the only angel accorded the "archangel" title in the Bible, where he is also called "one of the chief princes." The book of Daniel and Revelations describe how Michael provides protection in time of trouble. (pg. xii)
According to legend, Michael was the angel who battled Lucifer into hell when he challenged God. At times, the world forgets just how powerful Lucifer is, and of course he's powerful, that's how God created him to be. In fact, Lucifer's power is so close to that of God's that he thought and still thinks he can take God's power from him. In fact, Lucifer can give you everything God can. He can bring you money, he can bring you fame, he can bring you health, but he will come to collect one day. Hence the reason there is a spiritual warfare going on. Classic story of good versus evil, with Michael still standing at the front line with his armor (as he is depicted in most pictures) ready to fight. Since God has given me the ability to see things that sometimes I don't want to see, Michael has always been there reminding me to call on him and he will protect me in my battles. You see, Michael won't just come, unless he is ordered to by God or ask to do so by the person in trouble because of our free will.
Hearing Kelli tell Michael's tale, my body started to shake. I had a sense of peace, and a sense of fear. Deep down, I just want to be a normal girl with a normal life. I don't want to see demons or angels... I don't want to see spiritual warfare. Self doubt started to fill my body as Kelli laid her cards out again to go into my life's journey in more detail... A life that I'm starting to feel resembles an episode of "True Blood" more and more everyday. A life, I fear, will never be normal.
"You're an Indigo Child," Kelli said as to me.
"Pardon?" I asked as I looked from Kelli to Drew and back again.
"An Indigo," Kelli said again.
... To Be Continued...
*For more information about readings with Kelli or to book and appointment, please go to www.mamakelli.com
** Doreen Virtue is the author of the "Angel Therapy" books that can be purchased at your local bookstores, or by visiting her website at www.AngelTherapy.com.
"When all you have to keep is strong
Move along, move along like I know ya do
And even when your hope is gone
Move along, move along just to make it through."
-The All-American Rejects