December 27, 2016

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Steve said to me this morning, "Well, you have to "write" another entry, now, because the last one was a Christmas entry and we are past Christmas." He felt I agreed--and then, he realized that I actually wrote a new one on Christmas Day. Now what? But I am already prompting him for these things. The entry of two days ago, you can read easily enough, if you want to. I have full faith in the intelligence and resourcefulness of my readers! :-)

Normally I prefer Steve not "kiss and tell" where "signs" I give him are concerned, but here is an interesting one--and it dovetails nicely with what I wrote a couple entries ago, that in my stories, I would feature something of the occult--in that case, a palm reading--but then I would make of it something that had an ordinary explanation. The reason for this is so as not to cast one's pearls before swine. Millenia ago, someone figured out that you could cast an old rotten pear, along with the pearls, and the swine would, naturally, be attracted to the pear and leave the pearls alone. Problem solved! So this is why I would have a natural explanation in my stories--not out of fear (at least, not so much), as Steve had thought. It was in the teachings, themselves, that you should do this, you see. Steve is getting a maxim from me, but he can't quite hear it--something like "And for the unbelievers, a stone." Or something like that.

You see, we can almost channel, now. Someday, if he lives to an advanced age in this life, he will be able to hear my thoughts more-or-less verbatim. He has gotten much, much better in the 6-1/2 years we've been married, this time. Better than he realizes.

So, Steve has noticed that I seem to wake him up early when he has some intensive editing to do on our book, even though he's not expecting to discover anything that day. But this Christmas holiday, he has also been expressing the fond wish--not really expecting anything--that I might be able to manifest tangibly to him. Now, I won't tell you what his first wish is, but I will tell you this much, that he is a man...and all we can say to that, with a wry face and a sigh, is, "men!" ;-) I would gladly comply. But there are rules and practical constraints; and always, there must be some ambiguity in it, so that it cannot be proven, absolutely, that this was an occult event. Why must it be like that? I could give a dozen reasons, practical and preferential--but as I said in the previous entry, faith must come first. One must never allow one's charge to take the spiraling downward path of allowing faith to depend on proof. One has the strength of character to build faith, and then comes the proof, in that order. If you understand that faith in oneself is the same thing as healthy self-confidence (not vanity, mind); and that faith in oneself is the cornerstone of character, then you see that constantly relying on signs, in order to have faith, undermines character!

And as Steve's spirit guide, I am first and foremost charged with encouraging his character. That is what people are on earth for. Steve recalls, apropos, that Swami Vivekananda, one of his heroes in the spiritual line, said, "The world is a moral gymnasium."

So yesterday morning, at 4-something o'clock in the morning--with a great deal of editing that would need to be done--suddenly Steve's bedroom lamp comes on. Time to get up! But there was a perfectly normal explanation--that is, if you ignore statistical chance. Steve has a rheostat with a little slider bar attached to his lamp, so that we can sit in the evenings in the dim light and try to converse a bit, as we once did in the 19th century, before turning in for the night. (He doesn't remember it--only, he feels that somehow it is right for us, and so he set it up that way.) Occasionally--maybe, once a week, or less often--that little control box started sliding down off the dresser next to the wall. It had done that, what, Steve thinks, maybe five or six times lately. Not enough to bother with doing anything about it, but enough that it was gradually getting to be a nuisance. Never had it actually turned on the light, however.

Now, do you think it is suspicious that it just happens to do that, soon after I had told you all, in channeling, that I liked to wake Steve up early when there is work to be done? Or do you think it was merely a coincidence? Watch out for that word, "merely." It is either said, or implied, in many sceptical presentations. It is a deadly word--because the universe is grand, and that is because its Creator is grand, you see. Nothing in the world is ever "merely." It is only the smallness of minds, numbed with materialism, which ever brings the world down to a "merely." I repeat, nothing is "merely."

But you can call it a coincidence, because we have left, there, a rotten pear, you see. ;-).

Last night Steve is watching the news, and he sees the terrible problems in Syria, and the refugees into Europe; and he sees how they were welcomed with open arms until it became too much. The irony, on the news show Steve watched, is that it has come to the point that only the priest is sticking up for them! You can see the difference between the love of man, and the love of God. Steve also thinks of the advertisement which comes on before the news. We will not bother to remember and name the company. But the gist of it is, as the narrator says, you can like a lot of people, but you can only love a precious few, because these are the only people you are willing to go to a lot of trouble for.

But the love of Christ says, no, that's not it. Would Mother Teresa agree with that? When she is out early, early in the morning on the streets of Calcutta, looking for a dying person to bring into her shelter, so that he may pass with love and human warmth?

But then, I get off my pedestal, because I found my ideals quite difficult to live up to when I was a young woman in the physical body, as well. I had all these burning ideals; but when I left my father's home, and lived in poverty with Mathew--poverty, because they shunned us--I found it quite different. The very people I was trying so desperately to help, in my liberal idealism, were shunning me as a witch, you see. And threatening my husband's life, because he dared to teach that all should be loved regardless of their race. I found myself living among people who did not want my help, and who were not at all thankful for my efforts.

This kind of thing is, as they say, what separates the "sheep from the goats"--those with human affection, from those who are trying to express the love of God.

It is easy from here, in the astral world, to tell people on earth how they should behave. We, many of us here, I mean, do it all the time! But it is a different matter to find oneself in a body, with stomach cramps and bad moods, and urges and likes and dislikes and complaints of all kinds, and obstacles at every turn; and to then try to live the life of a Mother Teresa. Only a few can do it--and most fall. You see that Mother Teresa was no physical beauty, and this was intentional. She knew, before she came into the earth, that she would be a celebrity; so she made sure she would be homely, to avoid pride. Because you see what happened to Soeur Sourire, the "singing nun." Steve has always liked Soeur Sourire's music very, very much--but he didn't know it was me, his French wife from the 19th century, whose appreciation he could feel, influencing his reaction to her music (and if the truth be known, actually listening with him). My mind has always been with Steve--only, I wasn't permitted to manifest myself to him, to make myself known to him, until relatively recently.

Life, in its relentless push towards God, towards the soul within (where God is found), makes sure that circumstances are such that one's love becomes broader and more encompassing. It presents circumstances which challenge us to greater and greater character. If life is a "moral gymnasium," it is a type of gynmasium which comes to our door, you see. Only the rare ones, the spiritual giants like Swami Vivekananda, go to the gym. For all else, the gym comes to us. Or, as Rumi put it, "The saints go to God willingly; all the rest are dragged to the Throne in chains."

Love to each and all,
Abby