EARLY MEMORIES

He was dressed in a robe with a hood over his head — I could not see his face; at least I have no conscious memory of his face and he would stand at a distance from me, looking at me. I knew he was somehow a part of me. I would be aware of his vibration; it announced his presence before I would physically see him.

I have a really clear memory of the first time I saw him. I was a newborn. I think I was in a crib, or perhaps it was a cot. I remember the wooden, vertical slats that formed my bed. I could see the room quite clearly even though it was dark. I could distinguish between the three doors in the bedroom. One of them opened to a wardrobe. The second opened to a cupboard with shelving. The third door opened to the hallway.

I could see him standing there, between the wardrobe and cupboard doors, watching me. My eyes looked over to where my parents lay sleeping in their bed, and I could not understand how it was that they did not sense his presence and wake up. I think that really disturbed me — that they did not wake up. I was more anxious and puzzled than afraid.

This is the earliest memory I have on this earth.

I know that my parents preferred their babies to be in a room of their own. That way baby and parents were not unnecessarily disturbed by each other; so I must have been new in this world for my parents to have had me sleeping in their bedroom.

Often I would wake up with the feeling that my thumbs were being pulled as if to pull me out of bed. I always understood that he was not physically touching me — his vibratory energy was such that the effect on my body felt like physical touch. Why it was that my thumbs responded so I cannot say.

I resisted his pull on my thumbs so strongly. Sometimes I would awaken, feeling his presence close to me; before I felt my thumbs being pulled. We always seemed to have such a battle over my poor thumbs!

As I grew older and was able to speak, I would tell my parents about my nightly visitor. I was constantly told I was having nightmares.

Thus, I learned my parents' fears. I became very afraid of those nightmares and afraid to be alone in the dark. I was given a nightlight, and I would cry if left alone in the dark. My parents thought the light would help me feel comforted, less afraid, but the nightlight did not deter my nightly "visitor."

His regular visits seemed to end when I was eight years old.

I remember the last night he came. The light was magnificent: bright, white, glowing, and all encompassing. The light seemed to pour in through the windows of the room off my bedroom. It would fill that room and spill over into my bedroom.

I could feel his presence, yet at first I could not see him.

Then I saw him. He was standing in the doorway of my bedroom; I could feel the familiar pull on my thumbs. That night, he seemed to have a much stronger effect on me. The pull on my thumbs was so insistent. Actually, I do not remember being afraid that night. I felt very determined. Our battle seemed to go on for quite some time. I remember my acute awareness of the white light. Then he seemed to be the light — the light radiating outward from his being. Then he was gone.

Except for the subtle knowing awareness of him being close by from time to time, I have no conscious memory of seeing him again. Even into adulthood, I was always afraid to sleep with my thumbs sticking out from under the bed covers — just in case he came to get me.

In time, I would learn that my nightly visitor is of the Priesthood of Light — a very enlightened being. It would take time for me to have the awareness that it was a privilege that he should come to me. He could be described as one of the shrouded ones — they are very holy beings, not seen very often.

I must say that as a child absorbing the fears that our earthbound limitations teach us, I did not feel terribly privileged about these visitations. There were times when I found it quite difficult to see him as a holy being when all he seemed to do was terrorize me.

I have questioned why, as a new babe, I did not recognize this holy being. Let's face it — he had a rather scary appearance standing there in front of me. I am reminded that such descriptions are really very earth related. In spirit, we do not require such grandiose descriptions. We simply are.

I remember, initially, I was not afraid — fear seemed to come with the conditioning that we are raised with. We are told as children that our invisible friends are not real — we then push them away; in time, we do forget them and move into the world with our consciousness dimmed. Most often, we just forget.

I had now reached a point in my life where I was more than ready for clarification — from my own consciousness. I was ready to accept answers to my questions no matter what those answers were. I needed to find those answers for myself. I had spent the previous twelve months recovering from some serious operations. My subsequent health problems left me struggling to regain a sense of normality. I wanted some answers. I wanted to know why my guardian angel had not come to me when I cried out to him for help.

I had tried many times to ask the universe about this visitor who interrupted me nightly as a child. I had not felt that I had received an answer and was somewhat resentful. As I look back, I know that I asked from a place of resentfulness.

This time, it was different. I was in a place of total peacefulness and acceptance. There was no resentment in my being; there was no fear; there was no attitude. I felt so much at peace, with acceptance that I can truly say I asked in love that I be given the knowledge of whom this being is, and why, and what the significance of him has been and will be in my life.

That night, I had an awareness of this shrouded one distantly around me. My awareness even seemed to penetrate my sleep. I knew at times he was standing close by me; other times he seemed to be looking at me from very far away. The morning arrived, and in a completely awake and aware state, I invited him to come in closer and reveal himself to me.

I was aware of a higher rate of energy, or vibration, affecting my body. Almost instantly my thumbs went off! My thumbs seemed to reverberate with a vibration higher than the rest of me — and the feeling was becoming stronger! I knew that, indeed, whoever was coming in close to me was the same visitor that came to me as a child.

I had received my confirmation — it was the thumbs again! Only this time, I did not respond with fear — I felt complete recognition and gratitude that he had responded. I consciously extended a warm welcome to this shrouded being and asked him to allow me to see him.

Well, you know the old saying: "Watch what you ask for — you might get it."

At this point, I had been lying on my back in bed, with my hands lying above my head on my pillows. My thumbs were really vibrating by now, and it seemed the most natural thing in the world to close the short distance between my hands and touch thumb to thumb.

I had created a circle.

I had not expected the response! Immediately upon my thumbs touching each other, my whole being was aware of peace and saturation of light. I felt the light descend over my body and bathe me. This beautiful, soft, white light penetrated every part of my body.

I could see him. I could see the shrouded figure standing before me as clearly as I could when I was a child. He stood at the foot of my bed, on the left, and I could see him! Within this circle of light, I had a sure knowledge that this being before me, the shrouded one, that same being that came nightly to me as a wee babe until I was eight years old, was indeed my guardian angel.

I finally understood all the fruitless times I had longed to know and see my guardian angel — why I had not been answered. I needed to come to the understanding and acceptance of this holy being, without fear and without doubt, before he could reveal his purpose in my life.

I had been so blind; I was the one who had stood in my own way, not allowing myself to interact with him.

In that moment, I also understood that the pulling on my thumbs as a child that I had learned to fear so greatly was in fact the powerful connection of his being and mine — touching, teaching, comforting, blessing me.

It had taken my whole lifetime to figure this out. Perhaps it was because I could finally allow myself to feel his touch without fear and apprehension that it all opened up to me. How dumb could I be? How much time had I wasted! I felt rather stupid. I was overwhelmed by the enormity of it all ...

... and rainedrops fall down my cheeks.

MY GUARDIAN ANGEL

I asked the shrouded one: "What do I call you?" He said his name was "Alor." And so it was that Alor told me he had always been at my side. He had never left me and had always been watching over me. He told me I was one of the chosen ones.

I responded to Alor that I had always been aware that I was special in some way, but that I didn't really understand why I should feel that way — we are all special. Every soul. Every one of us.

Again, Alor told me that I was one of the chosen ones and that on some level my being was acknowledging who I was and what I have been chosen for during this lifetime.

I questioned Alor about why I had had such a terrible ordeal with my health over the past year or so; terrible pain, terrible trauma, several operations — and could not care for myself. Why was it given to me to experience so much?

Within an eight-week period, I had endured three operations under general anesthesia. I was then kept conscious during a CT procedure that would allow the surgeon to introduce a drainage tube through my buttock, via a small window next to the spine, then into my abdomen to ascertain if I was hemorrhaging or if my bowel had ruptured. I needed to be conscious so that I could move if need be to allow for a successful outcome.

It was terribly distressing. Because of my previous operations it was not advisable to introduce further incisions in my abdomen. In addition, I endured several smaller procedures. My body had been in toxic shock from a superbug that had run rampant through my body before it was diagnosed. It was all somewhat traumatic, to say the least!

I have a clear recollection of knowing things were going wrong before my condition was medically recognized. After each operation, I heard a small voice in my head say: It is not finished. I also had confirmation from the spirit world.

One evening, following the second operation, I was in great pain and extremely ill. I looked up from my hospital bed to see a very dear friend standing to the left of my bed. My dear friend was actually a dear, departed friend! I had known this friend for ten years. I even officiated at his funeral service.

My friend called me by name and said: "Raine we are very worried about you."

Well, that's reassuring. They are worried! What sort of deal is this? I thought to myself. When we "ask" for help, it's not really within our thought processes to think they might turn up and tell us how worried they are. It's not supposed to work like that! Not only that, but he turned up the next night making the same statement.

Great help! Really reassuring! Three nights my departed friend came to my bedside expressing their concern!

OK, I thought to myself, so I'm on my own with this one. When I was rushed into emergency surgery, my teenage daughter was sobbing her heart out. "No matter what I have to go through, I promise you, I will not leave you," I promised her.

"I will try really hard to get well," I said to my husband. "I promise I will get well"

Phew, easy to make promises, isn't it, when you do not know what is ahead. Actually, somewhat rash even!

I recall out-of-body experiences: looking down on my body. I thought at times I looked less than human, shriveled in pain.

One day, as I started to respond to treatment, one of my nurses said to me, "You almost look human today," and then she apologized saying that her comments had not sounded nice, but I understood exactly what she had meant. I took no offence.

I remember looking down on my body as it lay on some sort of bench, and there were people standing over me — there was blood, and strange shapes seemed to have been pulled out of my abdomen. I realized I was being operated on.

I have complete recall of the "tunnels" that seemed to float in front of me and how much I longed to go into them. When I say "tunnels," I really do mean the plural form. They would appear from nowhere really, and gently move toward me. I could liken their external shape to a very large extractor hose that one attaches to the back of a clothes dryer.

They would appear small in their opening and then enlarge as they drifted closer to me with movements similar to a caterpillar moving. There were times when I had "choices" of which one I might choose to explore!

One day, when I was at a low ebb, I started to move toward the tunnels. My friend who sat with me, holding my hand, said I had suddenly become so very cold — and she sensed my leaving. She spoke to me softly, saying, "You're not leaving are you?"

I longed to go!

"You promised," she said.

But ... I just wanted to go a little way and check it all out ... darned promises!

I knew that if I allowed myself to go on the journey calling me, I would not be able to face returning to my body.

I stayed.

It was my stubborn streak! I had promised, thus I steadfastly held on. I would not leave. The promises to my family had given me the powerful will to endure.

I felt so abandoned by God!

I felt so abandoned by my guardian angel.

Damn it all. Where were they when I needed them so badly! Did they have any idea how mean it seemed to be offering me this option after all that I had suffered? I reckoned that was pretty mean stuff. They knew how much I wanted to travel to those other realms. They knew how I longed to return there.

Remember that saying again, "Watch what you ask for; you might get it"? Well, I guess I must need more lessons in accepting responsibility for self. Whilst I was feeling so sorry for myself and so abandoned by God, he was working very hard to allow me to fulfill my promises.

Alor told me that I had been called home — I was given the choice — and in my willful determination to remain, they in the spirit world had worked very hard to allow me to remain.

Alor also said I had been called as a teacher through my experiences, not only for the benefit of the doctors and surgeons, but for all the people around me who needed the opportunity to learn to express love. I needed to be still long enough for them to be able to do that ... I had touched so many and given so much love and healing to others, it was part of their learning now, to give it back freely.

I thought of the many different specialists whose care I have come under, and how they have acknowledged my situation is outside of the so-called "norm" and how they — in the medical field — need to sit up, take notice, and learn from my experiences.

I thought also of the many, many beautiful cards, flowers, well wishes, and telephone calls that I received, and continue to receive, and a newer level of understanding came into my being. I have felt so loved by everyone — they have made me feel so very special to them — and they have made my burdens easier to bear.

... and rainedrops fall down my cheeks as I am humbled by mountains of love.

DIVINE

Alor talked about my connection to Drexania. Drexania ("Go In Light") is one of heaven's special messengers who prompted me to write of a very special message — lessons of love. I have received the information in the form of a story. As I write each chapter, the words have such an impact on me that I need to let each chapter settle in my soul before I can go on to the next one. Hence, the book, Go In Light, is evolving, and I hope will one day be available for all to share.

Alor spoke about Drexania as my other soul. He is my spiritual essence. He is my spiritual counterpart. He is my spiritual reflection. We are spiritually bonded to one another. Hence, I am able to tune into his spirit. So it is that his story has such impact on me. Perhaps it will not reach so deeply into another's soul as it does mine, however, I know that his story will reach deep inside whomever is willing to learn lessons of love.