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Bruce Moen
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To All,
I'm on a TMI related mailing list and received the story below from Joy via my friend and great editor at Hampton Roads Publishing, Frank DeMarco. Joy's story, as told by her husband, Dale, is reproduced here with their permission. It's a story of retrieval and the power of Love & prayer . . .
Dale Matthies
8-18-2006
Why Do You Need My Help?
Iraq Angel Intercessory
It’s not unusual for an angel to ask Joy for help; they ask her to help convince the newly dead that they are…well…dead. When Joy was very young, a being that Joy felt was her recently departed grandmother would often meet her in a dream and ask her to go to a park in the dream world. There they would find someone who appeared to be confused. Grandmom would suggest that Joy get the person’s attention and ask them how they are. The person would usually be surprised that they could talk with Joy because no one else seemed to be able to. After a few minutes, Grandmom would suggest to Joy that the park-person look for a welcoming light, or maybe some old friend that they had not seen in years. Then…the person seemed to disappear into thin air.
In the early 1990’s Joy and I attended a program at the Monroe Institute in Virginia that was called Lifelines. I remember the controversy that surrounded the Lifelines program – people wondered why we, who are still physical, were needed to help those who are dead but do not realize it. Are there not angels and guides for this purpose? Bob Monroe’s answer to the program’s detractors was, “Yes, there are guides, but some souls are so Earthbound, especially if their death was tragic, that the high vibratory beings of the non-physical realms cannot get their attention.” Bob learned through his out-of-body experiences that these confused souls could be helped by someone who was still living in a physical body. He felt that people who were interested in his programs had evolved to a state-of-being that would allow them to be of help. As it turned out, the participants in the Lifelines workshops reported that the people they helped where often members of their own extended family or soul group…so, on a larger scope, they were really helping themselves.
At 4:15 AM on August 17 of 2006, Joy was consciously aware that she was in a dream-state when she found herself being greeted by a luminescent six-foot, five-inch young man who was wearing the new light-colored military fatigues. The good-looking man held out his hand, and Joy understood that he wanted her to come with him. As he led her, she observed sandy terrain and soon realized that this was not the Arizona sand she is familiar with.
“Where are you taking me?” Joy asked.
“To the Middle East,” he replied.
The sunlight at this place was intense; Joy wished she had brought dark glasses. They came to a barbed wire fence and Joy’s guide asked her to wait while he held the wire strands apart, allowing Joy to pass through. After which, they moved to a sparsely furnished concrete-walled room. In this room there were young men who were wearing grungy fatigues. Some of the men were bloody, many had their hands tied behind their back, and some had their mouths and eyes covered with duct tape.
“What are you doing?” Demanded Joy, startled by what she was observing.
“No, no Mamm…it’s not me,” replied her clean-cut guide. “It’s them, they died that way and they can’t find their way out.”
“I don’t understand. Why have you brought me here?”
“Mamm,” he replied, “If you would please go to them you will be helping me to do my job. You’ll remind them of their mother. And, because of your light-colored hair, they’ll know that you are not one of their captors, they’ll trust you. Help them to remove their restraints and blindfolds,” he continued, “tell them that they are okay.”
Recounting this story for me, Joy expressed that at this point she wondered why so many young soldiers could be in this predicament. Reading Joy’s thoughts, her guide pulled her aside and told her that these men had been captured and tortured by extremists. Brainwashed and beaten into submission, they now believed the hateful ranting of their jailors. Before dying, the prisoners had been told that their government was evil and that their cause was unjust. The extremists had effectively altered their captive’s beliefs and now these newly dead where entrapped in the non-physical prison of their own mind.
Understanding what she had to do, Joy moved toward a boy who appeared to be no more than nineteen and touched the ropes that were binding his hands. As she did, the rope weightlessly drifted to the floor. Then she touched the tape covering the mouth of another. Like magic, the tape effortlessly came off his face…and simultaneously the blood and grunge on his body disappeared.
“Hey, we can get out of here,” said the amazed twenty-something year-old.
“No!” shouted another, “It’s a trick.”
“No…it’s not,” Joy assured them. “I’m here to help; you have to believe me. Nothing here is real. Watch…”
Having gained their attention, Joy grabbed one of their guns and bent the barrel back on its self. She then turned to the clean cut military-looking guide and asked, “Why am I doing this?” As Joy asked her question, she noticed that his uniform and boots were absolutely spotless, and she could not help noticing a white radiance around him that expanded as he spoke.
“Because you understand,” he replied. “When some die, their beliefs hold them in prisons of their own making. Also, because of your white-blond hair, you were able to get their attention.”
Guiding Joy out of the building, “There’s more,” he continued. “These young people do not have a strong belief system. ‘Allah,’ they had been told by their captors, ‘will make you suffer and hold you for eternity in this prison.’ Because their parents and their community did not give them guidance – or they would not accept guidance – as to the nature of life beyond the physical, they are stuck in their mental prison. For some souls, experience is the only teacher that they will trust. Thus, when you came to help them and showed them that their captivity was an illusion – they learned a valuable lesson.”
“I know there are a few of us,” Joy responded, “who have agreed – on a soul level – to help people who find themselves stuck between worlds…but there seem to be so many that need help.”
“Ask the people you know to pray for them,” the angel replied. “The energy of prayer is powerful. Ask your friends to imagine that those who are imprisoned in their own purgatory feel the love and intention of those who are praying for them; the prayed for will eventually feel that love. And when they do, a connection will have been made. That connection allows their guides and angels to break the bonds and negative beliefs that are holding them in pain and agony.”
Joy told me that during the dream experience she was calm, but as she lay in bed reviewing everything she had experienced, her emotions welled. She felt sorry that the young men where suffering needlessly. It is not only those who die tragically in war that can become locked in a limbo of their own making, she realized, but anyone who is not strong and secure in their belief of what lies beyond the physical realm.
While I know that there are many who will find this story hard to believe, Joy asked me to share it with you because your prayers will help avert confusion and bring guidance to those who are suffering.
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Power of Love, Prayer & Retrieval (Read 5391 times)
