Читать книгу The Calling - Kim O'Neill - Страница 9

On a sweltering midsummer night in 1966, when I was ten years old, seven young women were brutally raped and murdered in their dormitory by a lone assailant. The savagery of the crime inspired the biggest manhunt in the history of Chicago. Although the perpetrator was captured three days later, people never again felt as safe in their own homes.

When my frightened parents told me that we were, suddenly, going to start locking our front door at night, adding, “You’re not old enough to know why,” they didn’t realize, and couldn’t know, that I had already seen—firsthand—what the reason was. Because I had been a witness to the crime . . . in a psychic dream.

Unbeknown to them, my parents had triggered the onset of the terrifying psychic dreams that I was to endure throughout my childhood. The dreams always involved real-life events that took me to the scene of violent crimes, forcing me to become an unwilling spectator to events so unspeakable that they still haunt me.

My guardian angels were a vivid part of my childhood, too, providing tangible support and encouragement. But even they could not help erase the violent images that tormented me while I slept. In my mid-teens I began to wish, with all my heart, that my psychic ability would shut down and disappear so that I could be left in peace.

Miraculously, the psychic images came to an abrupt halt. Suddenly, I began to enjoy untroubled sleep. The terrible psychic images slowly began to fade—as did the tangible presence of my angels. I no longer had spiritual friends conversing with me. I did not miss the terrible nightmares, and I did not miss the presence of my angels. Quite frankly, I simply felt relieved.

By the time I was in my early thirties, I had created a life so dysfunctional that I didn’t know where to turn. I had just gone through a very painful, demoralizing divorce. I was in a business with my ex-husband that was going bankrupt. I had no money and a mountain of debt. I had no friends. I believed that I had nowhere to turn. In a moment of sheer desperation, I called out to God for help. I was shocked when help quickly arrived . . . in the form of John Reid, one of my childhood guardian angels.

Although I had begged for assistance, I responded to the angel’s presence with disbelief and resistance. But he refused to give up on me. Through his patient guidance, I discovered how I could develop my psychic ability and use it to help others, how to take a leap of faith, how to fully trust, how to face my issues, how to create abundance, and how to navigate the winding road that was to ultimately lead to my soul mate and my children. I was about to discover my true destiny.