Friday, January 31, 2014

My Preferred Methods of Protection

When dealing with the spiritual world, it is imperative to be able to protect oneself from entities who would do harm. And because unkind spirits have been reported from pretty much every country around the world for thousands of years, there are countless icons and rituals to protect a person's life, health and property from a spiritual attack.

For thousands of years, unkind spirits have been reported from nearly every country around the world. And since then, people have been using prayers, icons and spells to prevent spirits from harming their health, property and even life from spiritual attack. But which forms of protection will work for you? Unfortunately there isn't a single method that will work for everyone and for every spirit. The spirit world is simply too vast and complicated. However what I can offer are the methods I use while on investigations.

My first “go to” form of protection is the name of Jesus Christ. My core beliefs are in the teachings of Jesus Christ and the Holy Bible. This does NOT mean I am affiliated with any organized religion, yet I do hold the teachings of Jesus Christ to heart even though I am flawed as a human. My belief is that He is not flawed and is the only other spiritual being/person who has the authority to command spirits. With that said, I protect myself before going into investigations by asking Him to surround me (and the team for that matter) with His blood of protection. I ask that He would set His angels around me and the team to protect us from anything or anyone who would cause us harm. I ask that His Holy Spirit would give me guidance and wisdom so that readings would be accurate and that all information I receive would be from Him. I ask Him to set a hedge of protection around us. I visualize a “shield” in front of me so that I may see that which I'm meant to see, with the intention of helping those who have asked for help, but still remain safe. I do not enter into any situation without doing so.

Another form of protection I use is anointing oil. While on an investigation, if a malevolent spirit seems to be pestering them, I anoint the residents with the oil before leaving and ask Christ to protect them from harm. I ask that God gives them peace in their home and a peaceful sleep, free from attacks. I keep anointing oil with me everywhere I go. I keep a small vial in my purse and on my nightstand. I've used anointing oil above windows, on doors when cleansing a home, and on people who are being spiritually attacked.

The next form of protection I use is salt. I prefer the larger Mediterranean Sea salt but have used table salt as well. I sprinkle a line on my front door threshold. This is to help prevent anyone who intends me, my family or my possessions harm. I replace the salt with a fresh line 2-3 times a year. A line can also be drawn around the perimeter of the home or property as well. As you're pouring your line, simply state something to the effect of “Those who would intend harm, both living and dead are not welcome in this home. I rebuke you in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit.” The words don't need to be exact, but they DO need to be spoken with authority, conviction, confidence and belief.

Salt was originally used in Holy water by the Catholic Catholic church. Salt was also used on wounds by Indians to draw out unhealthy spirits. It is also said to be used against psychic attacks. Some religions require a circle of salt to be poured for protection. Some require it to be thrown into an open fire to purify and to protect. Also it can be put in a bowl with or without water and set in a room that is believed to have spiritual attacks. I believe there's a reason why so many cultures around the world have found salt effective in the repelling of unkind/unclean spirits.

Another form of protection is with the herb sage. Native Americans, ancient Babylonians and many current Pagans believe that the smoke of sage is quite effective in repelling evil spirits. They also believe the after effects can last a while. I bring sage with me to every investigation and cleanse myself by “smudging” myself before entering my vehicle afterward. Smudging is lighting a dried and tied bundle of sage on fire, then extinguishing the flame so it only smolders, causing it to smoke. The smoke can be waved around a person and/or a room (focusing on any area a spirit can “hide” like corners, closets, etc). When smudging myself after an investigation, I do this outside so the spirit will be dispelled or released and not attached to me in any way. When smudging a home or area, it's important to begin smudging at one end of the home and work your way to either a door or window so the spirit can have a way of exit. Once the home is cleansed, add a line of salt on the threshold to prevent the spirit from returning.

I also keep a vial of dragon's blood. This is a red, powered resin which when burned, offers protection from evil spirits in a room or area. Dragon's blood is commonly used in hoodoo (not to be confused with voodoo) practices and works very well for me. When needed, I'll roll my bundled sage in it and then smudge like normal as it needs to be burned for the purpose of protection.

There is also a belief by many spiritualists that includes the visualization of wrapping yourself in a ribbon of God's pure white energy, then putting yourself, your home, loved ones, possessions, etc, into a solid gold pyramid then sealing it shut an locking it. Then filling it with the pure white light of God (or Spirit if that is your belief). This light “soaks in” or penetrates all that is inside the pyramid. Depending on the degree of protection needed, you would put said pyramid into another pyramid and continue with the sealing and filling of white light. I have done this ritual several times upon entering a known haunted location and it worked satisfactorily for me. It is, however, difficult to get a frightened resident who is being tormented by a spirit to get into the needed mindset to perform this correctly. While I can do it on their behalf, I prefer to empower people so they can take control of their situation and therefore build confidence.

There are many other forms of protection, but the above mentioned are what have proven most effective for me. As you can see, the origins of these vary greatly and it took years to find what works best for me. When it comes to forms of protection, you must research and use what works best for you. I believe that God has provided mankind with these natural forms of protection for the reason of understanding that no one has to be tormented by malevolent spirits or live in fear. May He bless you and protect you. - Angelica Mordant

Wednesday, July 11, 2012

Let's Start Fresh Shall We?

While it's been some time since my last entry, the memories of what happened in that house remain etched in me, much like the burn marks on a plastic bowl. Those memories will forever be a constant reminder of what happened.

I have changed, both as a person and as a soul. How I live has changed and what I believe had changed.  And over the years since my last entry I have come to this conclusion. That what happened in that house happened to me for a reason. What that reason is, is yet to be shown. Perhaps those events were permitted to happen to me to thrust me into my purpose. Perhaps to test my endurance. Perhaps the hell I endured was permitted by God to show me that the spirit realm is indeed real. It is powerful and it is not to be toyed with even though I never really toyed with it. Yes, curiosity of the spirit realm would occasionally taunt me. Halloween parties with Ouija boards in the back room next to the bong, Madame Cleo beckoning me with her ridiculous claims, scary movies such as The Exorcist sparking questions that no one would answer.....yes, I was curious of the spirit realm. But I never toyed with it. Something inside me would allow me to dare take it lightly.

The suppression of my God given gifts was foolish. The reason for my suppressing those gifts was even more foolish, although I understand now that it was only the ignorance of my overzealous mother and the force fed teachings of the Christian church that influenced me to do so. I was discouraged from asking questions. All curiosity was clearly the work of the devil. But all honesty, it was nothing more than the church's, my mother's and everyone else who discouraged me lack of understanding of the spirit realm, that caused them to be so adamant in their instruction. Had they understood and been more informed, perhaps I would've been prepared to handle the events in the house on Kendall Road. Who knows?

In the last couple of years, I've searched for even more answers. Not only about the spirit realm, but about spiritual gifts. How to control these gifts, how to help others with these gifts and finally how to help others develop their gifts. Because I believe that these gifts are bestowed upon us by God, I believe they have to be for a good reason. They are for His reason and for His purpose with the potential to help people and to do good. With this in mind, I've resolved to help people where spiritual matters are concerned. Whether they seek answers regarding their own gifts, or whether they're seeking advice in decision making, it is key to understand that a lot of what happens in our world is directly related to what is happening in the spirit realm. Knowing this empowers us to make informed decisions, not be so frightened, and not wonder why thing are happening to us. While I don't have all the answers, nor will I ever claim to, I can share what I know. And maybe, just maybe someone will not have to go through what I did. Maybe someone will become empowered and be able to not be afraid.
Because after all.......they do feed on fear.

God Bless & Namaste,

Monday, October 4, 2010

They Get Physical................

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As I’ve mentioned before, the events documented here are my true account. The order in which they happened however may not be. As the dark presences became stronger, my perception of chronological time became muddled and I seemed to lose more and more bits of time. At first, I would lose 15 minutes here, an hour there but these “blackout” periods became longer and longer. And as I would wake up, would find myself backtracking, looking for clues that would help me understand what had happened. I would check my computer history for websites visited, check my sent and trash folders on my email accounts, would check bank statements for purchases, would take notice around the house to see if anything looked different. I even checked the frig to see what food was eaten. I even considered checking the odometer on my car, but never did. My kids seemed fine. Plans were made and they would remind me that I was to drop them off at a friend’s house, or that they were going to be picked up. I was also enrolled in online college and found that my assignments were not only turned in on time, but I was getting A’s and B’s. Life was as it normally was. I just wasn’t remembering much of it. After a little research, I figured that indeed it was stress….nothing more…but inside, I didn’t’ believe it. The feeling of disconnection within myself was becoming more frequent and many times it seemed like I was looking at my life and functioning through someone else’s perspective….me, but not me…here but not here…..

The occurrences that happened in that house were becoming more frequent as well. I would find myself unable to sleep and so would drink a glass or two of wine, which turned into three which turned into four. Getting through the day was literally exhausting and while I had only a little trouble falling asleep, staying asleep was nearly an impossibility. Regardless of the time I went to sleep, I would wake between 1:30 and 3:30 am…..every…single….night. And every single night something dark would happen.

I remember thinking about my sister who is gifted herself and had in the past struggled with a poltergeist for several years. I wondered how she handled it. I wondered how she coped. Always seeming to be the pillar of strength, I knew that there HAD to have been times that she felt weak or uncertain of what was happening to her. And it was during this time on one particular night, when I just felt so small and helpless. This just seemed too big for me. I sensed too many spirits and they all were just so big and powerful. I prayed, I anointed, I begged for angelic protection, I pled for God to intercede on our family’s behalf….and things just got worse. I told myself that it was a test….yeah that’s it…I was being tested. My faith was being tested. But it was of no comfort that night. That night I was weak, vulnerable and just beat down by these things. And as I cried I whimpered for them to just leave me alone….that I would be out of their house in a matter of weeks and to just stop….please just stop. Now if you’ve read my previous posts, you’ll know that I hold Christian beliefs close to my heart. And the Bible specifically says not to speak to the dead. Up to this point I did my best not to speak to them at all. But this night I did. I tried to reason with them although I really don’t know why. It’s not like they are capable of compassion or pity. I was lying in my bed, on the left side of the bed, but on my right side. And as I cried and wished my sister were with me feeling completely abandoned by God, I felt a pressure along the front underside of my whole body pushing me and rolling me off the bed. Only this happened so quickly and with so much force, I was literally thrown from my bed and against the dresser. The left side of my body met the top half the of the front of the dresser. The knob to one of the top drawers went into my left cheek and I landed on my back on the floor, still wrapped in my blankets. Shocked I laid there on the floor trying to process what happened and as I began trembling, I unwrapped myself from the blankets and just stood there. I could feel that I was not alone in the room but had an impression that it was watching to see what I would do. My body fiercely shook as I put the blankets back on the bed then I sat on the bed and felt overcome with numbness and weakness and laid down so I wouldn’t fall. And I wept quietly, wondered what I did to deserve this. Why this was happening to me and what would I have to do to stop it other than just get out of the house. And as I lay there, my face grew cold and I opened my eyes to see a dark shadow at the foot of the bed then it expanded it’s arms/wings outward and hovered over me then down on me. My body became numb, cold and frozen. I was paralyzed again and couldn’t open my mouth to scream or even whisper the name of Jesus. My legs were pinned. My left arm was pinned against my chest (it was already there) and my right arm was pinned against the bed by my head. I felt frozen in time. Everything seemed to be in slow motion. The air was very thick and smelled stale, old and musty. With every exhale, I found it harder and harder to inhale as if whatever was on me was preventing me from inhaling. As I felt my consciousness beginning to fade, I became vaguely aware of two more beings coming up the stairs outside my door and my thoughts went to my children. Then I felt a claw like hand at the base of my neck gripping firmly but loosely enough to push towards my jawline, lifting my chin towards the ceiling, then as my mouth opened I could feel the breath being drawn or squeezed out from my chest like toothpaste from a near empty tube. With my mouth opened I mouthed the name Jesus……then “help me”. And as I did, I took a deep breath and the entity which was smothering me lifted off of me and I could hear a screeching or high pitched scream unlike anything I’d ever heard before. It floated away then seemed to dissolve. I immediately jumped up to check on the kids but my knees buckled from underneath me and I collapsed onto the floor too weak to stand. I pulled myself up and used the walls to steady myself as I went into each child’s room. I noticed that the door to my daughter’s room was cracked open a couple of inches when I went in. After kissing her on the cheek, I left, closing the door completely. I made my way downstairs and got a drink, whispering my prayers the whole time. Now I don’t know if it was my exhaustion or what, but I could not sense anything at all even though I knew that whatever was in that house was not gone. I got back into bed and immediately fell asleep.

The next morning, Heather asked me if I had let our dog Bear in the house. I said no and asked why. She said she closed her door when she went to sleep but that she was woken up in the middle of the night and heard him growling next to her bed and this morning her door was cracked open. Geez my blood ran cold. I told her that I must not have closed it all the way when I checked on her last night….but honestly, I KNEW I closed that door completely.

It was about a year later when I finally told my children what happened to me that night. But it wasn't before more incidents happened.....and with every shadow, feeling of dread, loss of time I found myself becoming more and more confused. I had no appetite, no focus and no energy. I knew I had to get out. I did my best to find reasonable explanations as to what was happening but was instead slipping into a state of perpetual confusion. My ability to function had become a state of just avoiding the evil that was around me. And as the date to move became closer, my boyfriend convinced me to just ship what I could and trade my car for a truck and just drive out with whatever I could put in the truck. But it seems that house had other plans for me......

Monday, April 26, 2010

A Turn For The Worse.......The Hauntings Turn Even Darker

The events that occurred are true, but the order in which they occurred may not be. It seems that once I decided to relocate to Arizona, all hell broke loose. No pun intended. At this point, the feeling of dread would happen nearly every day, yet didn't really seem to be centered around any particular part of the house anymore (except under the stairs, but I'll get to that later). What I do remember is that it would occur when I was alone or if the kids were in another room. But it never happened when anyone else was around. I would just be watching tv, or washing dishes then it would just wash over me like water. I would stop whatever I was doing. It seemed like I couldn't move. The air seemed thicker and it again felt as it there was something wrapping itself all around me. Many times the feeling would be accompanied by a paralyzing feeling of sadness, helplessness and grief. Often I would be frozen and would lose time. If I was alone in the house, I would sometimes “wake up” to notice that I had been standing there for an hour or more. It was very unsettling to say the least. Other times I would feel an incredible sense of anxiousness and would start looking outside or pacing as if I were expecting someone but I never knew who or why. There were countless times when I would begin to cry uncontrollably or would just feel utter despair. It became more and more difficult to pull myself out of these moods and I began to doubt my decision to relocate. I thought perhaps it was due to stress. I tried everything possible to explain away what was happening to me. It was becoming extremely difficult to simply function. Being around my children helped a LOT and my husband (then boyfriend) told me to try to arrange to always have at least one of the kids in the house. They seemed so full of light and life.......such a contrast to the heavy darkness that surrounded me when they weren't around.

As I planned to relocate, I continued working and decided not to resign from my job until the last month before the actual move. On my days off, I would just lay in bed feeling exhausted and was physically weak, confused, dizzy, and disoriented. I forgot even the simplest things such as what day it was or where my children were. I would forget to fix supper and the kids would many times have to either remind me, or would make it themselves. My daughter who has an uncanny sense of compassion would ask if I was alright and I would tell her that I just wasn't feeling well. I told myself my physical ailments were due to the stress of planning the move, but my boyfriend told me that he believed that whatever was in the house was trying to isolate me and attack me by messing with me by causing emotional and physical weaknesses. At this point I was so confused, I didn't know what to believe. I just took it day by day and prayed for guidance.

Because my job was in retail management, I was required to work late a couple times a week and would not return home until 10:00 to 10:30pm. The house was in such a remote location there were not any street lights or any other type of lighting to light the house. At night, if all the lights in the house were off, one could drive right by and miss the house completely. Many people would get lost coming to the house at night. My children's friends' parents would need to be guided with me on the cell phone. I would need to go out onto the porch to look for their headlights. They would always comment on how remote the house was and asked if I was ever scared about being alone in such a location. I would play it off so as not to make them feel uncomfortable but inside I wanted to beg for them to stay or to take us all with them. They never wanted to come inside, even during the day.

Now there was a county owned light pole on the property that was supposed to light the yard and house. However the timer “somehow” got reversed which would cause the light to come on during the day and turn off at dusk. I called the county several times asking them to repair it, but every time they did, it would only revert back within a month or so. So, if I knew I would be working late, I instructed the kids to leave the porch light on and the downstairs lights on. But like kids do, sometimes they would forget and I would drive around the curve in the road that would normally reveal the house and see only black where I knew my house was. I also knew that when I would walk in, the house would literally be pitch black. My stomach would tighten and I would brace myself for the eeriness that had become all too familiar.

I would have to keep the headlights on just to get the key in the door. And when the door opened, I was greeted with a thick blackness that seemed even darker than what the lack of light could manifest. On nights when there was moonlight, I could almost see the doorways that led into the other rooms of the house. I could never decide whether those nights were actually better or worse than when it was completely dark. When there was a moon out, I could see figures on the couch, in the foyer mirror or in the dining room. Yet when I turned on the lights they would disappear. So I got in the habit of turning on the foyer light as soon as I stepped through the doorway and would sing hymns softly or speak the name of Jesus softly yet audibly. It did help I must say. There is power indeed in even speaking the name of Jesus. So I bought nightlights to take some of the darkness away, but they only cast long shadows which would only play with my mind......yet they were better than the darkness, so I kept them.

As the date for moving approached, Tony and I would talk on the phone constantly as he helped keep me organized and functioning. Every night we would talk into the wee hours. And from the months of mid April to the day we left in mid July, something supernatural would happen. However, what was happening wasn't just emotional, it turned threatening and violent.

One night after Tony and I had said our good nights, I laid in bed waiting for sleep to come, I felt again that I was not alone in my room and sat up to see if perhaps one of my children had gotten up and come into my room. But what I saw took a few seconds to register in my mind.

I saw a black figure that seemed to be in a cloak, yet I could only make out a thick smoky shape. It stood approximately 6 ft tall. It stood at the foot of my bed. Terror gripped me and I was frozen in fear.. My throat felt tight as if something thick had wrapped itself around it My heart felt like it was going to pound out of my chest. My thoughts immediately went to my children and I knew that I dare not move. I had no way of knowing whether or not it would follow me if I were to go into their rooms to check on them. I blinked several times, hoping what I was seeing was leftover of a dream, or perhaps a shadow. Yet in addition to what I was seeing, I felt a sense of threat, danger and doom. This entity stood at the foot of my bed for what seemed like hours, but in reality was there about 30 seconds. Perhaps 45. But it was there long enough for me to know that it wasn't my imagination, yet not long enough for me to be able to do anything such as grab a Bible or call anyone. When it left, it didn't fade or “dissolve”. It simply was gone. I looked around the room to see if it had moved or come closer. But it was just gone. The tightness around my throat was gone just as quickly and the air in the room seemed lighter. I immediately called Tony as I jumped out of bed to check on the kids. All their doors were closed, and they were all sleeping soundly. I looked out every upstairs window in the house and noticed that it was unusually quiet but told myself that I was being ridiculous that there had to be a reasonable explanation to what was happening.

Tony offered comfort and reassurance. He told me to continue praying daily and to anoint every external window and doorway with Holy Oil. The very next day, I did just that, but what I didn't realize was that whatever was haunting me was already in the house...

As usual I am including some pics....I thought they were pretty creepy. BTW, the first one is pretty damned close to what was at the foot of my bed. It seems that I am not the only one who has been visited by these apparitions or entities.

Namaste & God Bless,

Friday, April 16, 2010

Just Me, My Kids.........and Ghosts....

Whatever is in that house is strong. Strong enough for anyone to feel uneasy, even during the day. Let me start with the kitchen. At first, one would think it was a cheerful room because of it's abundance of natural light and light colors. But shortly after walking into it, there was a sense of not being alone. It was kind of like walking in on people who are in the middle of a conversation. Several times a week, I would walk in and immediately either stop in my tracks or slow my pace, looking around and “feeling”, or “turning on my awareness”. At first I would dismiss the feeling, telling myself that it was due to my recent separation and being in such a remote location. But the air would actually seemed to get thicker and would seem to engulf me as if I had just walked into a sheet hanging on a clothesline. I would feel like I was being watched. On occasion, I thought I saw something peeking in the window over the sink. I found this odd because the house was on a block foundation making the sink window too high for a person to stand and look into. I told myself it was only my imagination, but didn't ever really believe it. This happened about once a week, at night and on a few occasions during the day. Also nearly every night I lived there (although it did happen during the day sometimes), I would sense one to two “things” looking in through the windows from the back porch. It was very unsettling to say the least, and I quickly learned to close the blinds as the sun began to set. But there was still a feeling that if I would have lifted those blinds or opened the curtains, they would still be there at the glass looking in. There were several times when my children would mention that it felt like someone was looking in the windows from the back porch. I would tell them they were watching too many scary movies, ruffle their hair and go on with whatever I was doing. Also, because the house was so old, the clothes dryer was on the back porch. I cannot tell you how many times I would look over my shoulder while reaching into the dryer to get the clothes out. And I HATED doing so at night. Several times I would even sing hymns out loud while out there (or anywhere else in the house for that matter), or would announce that I was only getting my laundry and would only be a moment. It was at those times the sense of dread would ease although I dared not to look too closely in the dark corners. And so I got accustomed to closing the blinds at dusk and reopening them in the morning. There were a handful of times when I would wake up in the morning to find the curtains and blinds lying on the floor. I would check the nails and mounting brackets thinking they had loosened or broke somehow. After replacing them a few times I asked a friend's boyfriend to reinstall them so they would withstand a hurricane. He obliged and I didn't have any more problems. Yet the feeling of being watched never left. It was everywhere in the house.

The foyer also had a feeling of dread although it was not as bad after I painted the walls white. Yet the night seemed to bring an impression that it was time to allow the spiritual residents to roam the house. But about once or twice a month I would see moving shadows in the corner of my eye. It was usually at the bottom of the stairwell. Two times that I recall, my youngest son turned as if he'd seen something and when I asked him, he said he thought he saw someone (once) and the other time he thought it was our dog (black outside dog) but realized it was nothing. And a several times when I would check my hair or makeup before leaving the house, I would get very uneasy when I look into the mirror above the setee. I would always drop my gaze and just move on with what I was doing dismissing the feeling as being ridiculous or as a result of being tired or whatever my mind could think up quickly. I tried not to look into it at night at all and absolutely never when I came downstairs in the middle of the night.

The living room was similar as the foyer and dining room but not as bad as the kitchen. Once in a while I would see the same dark figure sitting on the small sofa at the rear of the living room, and there were quite a few times I would see moving shadows or dark figures in the corners, but there was not the feeling of dread. Quite often after all the kids would go to bed, I would make my nightly rounds to check door locks, make sure all electronics were off and pick up a little and I would see one or two figures sitting on the couch. It was as if they were waiting for me to turn the tv back on or something. Once in a while I would say out loud that I was just going to bed and for them to carry on.

Now, the upstairs was different. It was upstairs where all the wonderful life sounds were. I could hear each of my children in their rooms doing whatever kids do in their rooms. I could hear the game console and the boys interacting. I could hear my daughter's radio. I was on my computer in my room or on the phone with my husband (then boyfriend). I would laugh when they would argue over the use of the bathroom. I would enjoy when all of them were in my oldest son's room and they would dance around or wrestle. I call them house sounds and they are by far the most beautiful sounds to my ears. Children's laughter. All the upstairs doors were left open so I could easily be available to them. My room was the first room at the top of the stairs and occasionally I would see a face (not scary) peeking in my room, but would not proceed any further. Yet I never forgot Connie's words about spirits and closed doors. And so every night when I would go in to each of my children's rooms, we would pray, asking for a hedge of protection, the protection of angels and we welcomed the Holy Spirit into our home and to grant us a peaceful sleep. When we were through with our nightly prayers, I would close the door.

This was the norm. This was every day life for us. Aside from the creepy feelings of being watched, the shadows and that awful mirror, we were just a family being a family.

This continued like this for a while. After Tony came to visit those two times, we decided we wanted to take our relationship further but also understood that a long distance relationship was out of the question. After careful consideration and discussion, we decided that it would be more practical for me to relocate. Once it was decided, things in the house turned bad.....

I am posting actual pics at the house.....

Namast & God Bless


Wednesday, April 14, 2010

Growing Pains....Learning To Live Alone With Ghosts

For the first year of living in the house, there were only a few incidents that are worth mentioning. At this point I was still struggling with accepting my gifts, fearing that I would somehow lose my salvation and burn in hell. Being in a very small town, I was also afraid of being considered a heathen or something. I remember there was a lady in town who had opened up a hair salon, gym and had tanning booths. She was a reiki massage therapist and herbalist. She was friendly, her prices were reasonable and the atmosphere was very calm and welcoming. I loved going to her shop. However when I talked to church members about how wonderful the new shop was, they would scowl and say they would never step foot in her place. They claimed she was a witch. My heart broke. These people were so uninformed and ignorant. They had the same mindset as the witch burning days of old Salem. Within two years, she had closed shop and disappeared. Her reputation had been ruined and she was boycotted out of town.

When I asked the church about the supernatural they pointed directly to the Holy Spirit which was fine, but I was searching for answers as to why I could see, smell, feel, taste and hear things. It seemed that they reject that which they don't know about, avoiding even talking about it. The pastor only recommended a book. He didn't offer prayer, or to assist me in my search. And so I doubted my gifts once again.

Once I had explained to the pastor, I had seen a sinister spirit in a little girl at church, and brown colors over someone else (a member of the church), but he swiftly rejected what I had to say. They (he and his wife) told me in the very next breath that it is impossible for children to be oppressed or possessed. I went back a week later with several scriptures about boys or children being possessed and they gave a lame theological reason that had something to do with the Bible losing the real meaning in translation, but what it seemed like to me, was that they were just trying to rationalize what they did not understand. And so this time, instead of doubting myself, I doubted the church. I stopped attending shortly after that.

A few months after I had unpacked and settled into the house on Kendall Road, my husband and I decided to try to work it out again. We were able to resolve a few issues but with his refusal to seek marriage counseling, there were still a few issues we just could not. We began attending church again and tried to counsel with the pastor, but after meeting him a couple times, he said he could not help us. On top of all this, I tried to very gently talk to my husband (again) about what was happening to me, just wanting to be supported by someone, but again I was met with reluctance and disbelief. He moved out only a few months later, 13 months after my moving in.

About a month after my husband moved out, I was asked to be in a wedding in California. I accepted and made the trip. I met my current husband at the ceremony rehearsal. We ended up talking for a bit that evening and at the reception. We exchanged email addresses and each of us went our separate ways. At first we only emailed each other occasionally, but after a short time, we began to talk on our cell phones. It was then that I asked what his spiritual beliefs were. Already knowing about my Christian beliefs, he mentioned that he was reluctant in disclosing. I persisted and what he told me surprised me.

He told me that he knew I was spiritually gifted. He also said I couldn't run from them forever. That I was wasting my gifts by spending so many years in denial. He then told me that I could be myself around him and that I wouldn't have to be fearful of not being accepted. While he admitted that he didn't know everything, he offered to answer any questions he could about spiritual matters. Over the course of several months our bond grew stronger and I slowly became more confident in accepting myself. However as I became more aware and intuitive, I also began seeing more spirits. Only this time, I was more in tune. It seemed that I was able to finally not be afraid of what was happening. I was learning to “listen” (not with my ears) and would get impressions about places or situations. Sometimes my then boyfriend and I would be on the phone when I would see something. Either a flickering light, or shadow in the corner. Sometimes I would have a feeling that someone was watching me. And every single time, he would say, “tell me what's happening”. He could sense some sort of supernatural event, but could not tell exactly what was happening. I would explain to him whatever I was seeing or what was happening and he would coach me by asking me questions such as, “What are you feeling when you see....?” or “Do you notice anything around?” or “Do any random words or images pop into your head?” These questions were so I could learn to analyze occurrences so as to rule out earthly and explainable reasons for the events. It was also to teach me to filter out unnecessary input and to go with my intuition.

We talked every day for months, sometimes into the early morning hours. Eventually he flew out to visit me and stayed a week. The visited again the following month. While he didn't want to be insulting or make me uncomfortable, he told me after returning home that the house I lived in was the creepiest house he'd ever been in. He cannot understand how I or anyone else could possibly live there alone (with my children). His feeling of dread and being watched was so overwhelming, that he refused to walk anywhere alone in the house at night. I told him that I didn't realize the reason for his always wanting to be around me until he mentioned it. And with him mentioning it, it brought to my attention that I too had become accustomed to being uncomfortable and had developed “tricks” to cope.

It's important for you to understand his role in what took place over the course of the next few months. If it weren't for his support, and that of another dear friend, I don't know what would have happened to us........ because once I decided to leave, the house wouldn't let me.

I am posting some pics that I believe capture the mood or feeling of what we lived with. They are not actual pics of the house. But those are coming....

Namaste & God Bless

Saturday, April 10, 2010

Kendall Road......First Impressions

First of all, I wanted to note that spirits many times do not want to have their story told. With that in mind I would like to inform you that as I have begun to write about this house and the events that occurred while in it, I have had my health affected. While writing, I become nauseous, get headaches, dizziness and sometimes short of breath. I also see more spirits throughout the day, night and while dreaming. But it's only on the days I write for this blog and only when I write about this house and that house in Louisiana. These things do not happen on the days I write to my other blogs. Just thought you should know....

As living with the supernatural became an almost comfort zone, I was also confused as to how all this related to Christian beliefs. It was during this period I was searching for answers. My husband, while not very comfortable with the subject usually just kept silent. He was open to the possibilities, but I think he was also trapped into the distorted belief that all supernatural belongs to the devil. In time, we drifted apart (for other reasons) and not knowing what else to do, eventually separated . He and his children moved out. While I did my best to keep the adorable rental that we loved so much, I was forced to move.

I put the word out about needing a new place and a friend told me about a possible house for rent outside of town. She gave me the name of the street she believed it was on and also mentioned that it was a large white house with a green metal roof and that it sat back off the road. She also mentioned that it had been vacant for quite a while. With my current landlord on my back, I had to follow through.

Kendall Road was approximately six miles out of town and the short drive to it was very peaceful. As I turned onto the road I noticed how absolutely perfect the area appeared to be. The curvy road was smooth, lined with trees and the air had an earthy smell that could only come from an area surrounded by forest. I drove slowly so as not to miss the house. Traffic was not a problem seeing that I seemed to be the only person around. Occasional dirt driveways led into tunnels of trees, and I strained to see glimpses of small houses through them. As I came around a bend, the trees gave way to a very large clearing of approximately eight acres. The field was overgrown and dry but was surrounded by fully grown timber. I saw a house with a metal roof way back and saw the dirt and gravel driveway between two pillars. As I eased my car up the driveway and towards the house, the house seemed to grow. There is something magical about the country air, and perception sometimes can be distorted. The driveway ended in a circle and I parked my car. It took me a second to register what I was looking at. I could not decide whether I was looking at a fixer upper or something that needed to just be torn down.

It was a large white, square Colonial with two large overgrown round hedges on either side of the dirt path that led to the house. The front had a screen porch that extended the entire width of the house. I could see two chimneys protruding from the roof which was rusted in a few spots. While the yard was neatly trimmed and weeded, the house itself was indeed a mess. Nearly all the screens on the porch needed replacing. Mold was growing on various areas of the siding and it looked like the foundation was sinking in the middle. There were several wasp nests in the eaves. My heart sank as I could see that this house would need more than paint to restore. Slowly, over the course of about 10 seconds, the air seemed to become electric. The hairs on my arms stood up and the skin on my neck, jaw, shoulders and arms seemed to crawl. But there was no bad or uncomfortable feeling. Only the tingling sensation. I got the impression my presence has stirred curiosity from spirits. As Connie had taught me, I did my best to read whether or not they were friend or foe. I got nothing. As I came to learn later, they were preventing me from reading them and seeing just how evil they were.

I could hear the approach of a tractor and turned to see who it was. An elderly man was coming to the house, cutting through the field that separated the house I was at and his. As he got off the tractor, he introduced himself as Mr. Johnson. He said he was the caretaker of the place. When I asked if the place was for rent, he said yes, but that it was not put on the market yet due to it's needing various repairs. He offered to show it to me and we went inside.

All I could say about the place is that there wasn't any part that was in acceptable shape. Mr. Johnson told me that the house belonged to several members of the same family. There had been a couple (partial owners) who would visit for a week during the summers, but otherwise the house was abandoned. One of them had recently died leaving the house permanently vacant. He said he'd give me a minute to check it out and that he would be waiting outside. I simply thought he was being courteous so as not to pressure me, but later found out that he just didn't like being in the house.

Upon entering the house was a average sized foyer approximately eight feet wide and 12 feet long. The flooring was what looked to be oak tiles. Perhaps it was someone's attempt at improving the house. The tiles were bowed and some were missing due to the floor's considerable sagging. Dark walnut bead board along the walls and ceiling gave the room a very heavy and depressing feel. The foyer was furnished with a small upholstered settee, an tall wood oil lamp, a gate legged table, a credenza and an enormous gilded ornate mirror that was covered with a sheet. It was on the wall just above the setee.

To the right was the doorway that led into the dining room approximately thirteen by thirteen square feet, with ample widows, yet with dark olive draperies and metal blinds that were bent, broken and askew. The darkness of the room made the room feel thick. There was bright blue carpeting on the sagging floor and the walls were gray wood paneling which I found odd and out of place. The dining room was furnished with a large round claw foot table that had been painted horribly. There were large mahogany upholstered dining chairs, a buffet and a mahogany china cabinet with rounded glass. To the left of entering the dining room was a door that led to the kitchen and a chimney was on the wall between these two rooms. I only stepped into the dining room and did not want to walk all the way into it. I had a feeling like I was interrupting although I had no idea what. It was almost as if I was walking in on someone in the middle of dinner. I felt uncomfortable.

I proceeded into the kitchen which had similar dimensions as the dining room. The walls which had been plastered were cracked in several spots with gaps up to 2 inches wide. It had been painted a horrid gold/yellow. The linoleum flooring that was peeling up at the edges. The cabinets were simple, honey stained knotty pine with black hinges. They were in decent condition but were clearly in need of a thorough cleaning. The kitchen was well lit. There was a large window over the sink, and the back door that led to the back porch had a window as well. There was even another window to the left of that. From the kitchen the views were amazing. One side showed the back yard and the tree line only 50 or so feet away, the other window showed the field and a few acres away, the caretakers mobile home. As I peeked inside the cabinets I found mouse droppings and grimaced. My cats were good mousers, but this only meant a LOT of sanitizing and disinfecting. The kitchen had a doorway that let into the foyer and across was another doorway that led into the great room.

Originally the great room had been two rooms, but the middle wall had since been removed making one enormous living room. It was entirely covered in solid knotty pine paneling and stained with a honey finish. The workmanship was good. There were plenty of windows also covered with metal blinds in poor condition and another windowed back door. The flooring was covered with wood tiles, which were in the same condition as the foyer. The furnishings were dated and loud orange florals. The rear of the room was very dark and I thought I saw someone sitting in the corner, but blinked to see an empty sofa. I talked myself into believing it was just a shadow. I went back into the foyer.

At the end of the foyer was a U turn staircase. There was a large window that shed light onto the dark bead board walls. At the top of the stairs was a decently sized loft or landing with dirty but nice hardwood flooring. There were two doors on either side leading to each o the four bedrooms. Two of the bedrooms had cheap whitewash paneling and two had plaster. All of the rooms were either 12 x12 or 13 x 13 and all their floors slanted towards the center of the house. There was a mixture of old cheap furniture from the 70's and very expensive antiques. In every room, I noticed the mirrors were either covered or turned backwards. I got a little creeped out understanding that many times people believe when someone dies in a home, they cover the mirrors so the deceased soul will not be trapped in the mirrors. When I asked why the mirrors were covered, Mr. Johnson merely stated that he supposed some people just didn't want them to get dirty since no one lived in the house. I didn't believe him. Straight ahead at the top of the stairs was the bathroom.

The bathroom was approximately 8 x 10 and had a large window offering a beautiful view of the field and trees at the front of the house. It was easy to see the entire driveway and I could see Mr. Johnson sitting on his tractor. He looked up at me and I smiled and waved. He nodded back without smiling. I didn't make any connections between the past and this house. until I just begun writing this paragraph and I see the words on the screen. The bathroom was blue. The exact same blue that was in the flashes that I saw at the house in Louisiana.

Every part of the bathroom in this house I was considering to rent was blue. The tub, the tiles, the sink, toilet, linoleum tiles and the paint. All of it was blue. After seeing the inside of the house I went back outside and talked a little with Mr. Johnson. As we walked the property she showed me the back screened in porch, the old well which he explained was dangerous even though he claimed it was filled and where the property lines were.

I learned that house was part of a huge estate of 100 acres with only six cleared. The other two of the cleared acreage belonged to Mr. Johnson. Off to the far right and through a tunnel of trees was a small family graveyard. There was an original house on the property but it had burned down some time before. Yeah, sounding familiar doesn't it? I can't believe that all this time, I never put the similarities between the two houses together. Mr. Johnson told me that he remembers helping his father build the house after the first one burned and proudly told me of all the “improvements” that were his handy work.

Originally, the property was 500 acres which was purchased by the original owner, an African American man in 1857. Since this was unheard of in that day (and being in the South) he put in his will that the land could not be sold to anyone outside the bloodline. He also willed the property to dozens of people in the family so that everyone would have to agree on every decision that needed to be made regarding the land. Over time, a total of 400 acres had been sold. Quite clever. It also seems that during the Civil War, a well known general stopped by that property and camped there with his troops while on the way to Fredericksburg. The owner of the land was so taken by the kindness and graciousness of the general, that the owner changed his last name to that of the general.

After talking with Mr. Johnson, he told me that he would offer a very very low rent in exchange for me agreeing to do as many repairs as possible. He was either in his late 70's or early 80's and mentioned that the work was becoming more difficult for him to do. All he asked was to leave the antiques in the house. There apparently had been several more, but because the house sat vacant for so long, they had been stolen. He said thieves wouldn't bother if they knew someone was living there. He also said that the expenses of all the repairs would be deducted from the rent. Whatever furniture I didn't want to use, he said could be put on the back porch and he would throw them in the shed at the back of the house. I asked about a credit check, contracts, leases and other standard formalities that come with renting. He asked if I wanted the place or not. I was a bit surprised by the sudden abruptness and said “well.....yes” and he stuck his hand out for me to shake. Realizing this is how things were done in the old days, I shook his hand. Then he reached into his pocket and handed me the keys. He got out a pad of paper and wrote for a couple minutes. He handed me a piece of paper with his name and phone number scrawled on it. I then realized the man was illiterate. I felt bad about asking about a contract and credit check. I asked if he wanted to pro rate the rent since it was the middle of the month. He waved it off and said it was just good to see that someone was finally going to be living in the house again. I was apprehensive, but excited at the same time. We began moving immediately.....I had absolutely no idea what horrific events were about to happen to us. I had no idea just how much danger we were in by just living there....