Ya'll know I'm afraid of "shadow people". I feel they are best left for priests, and those that are trained to deal with them.
I have to say, if I had not gotten this young woman mixed up with another young woman, I probably would not have agreed to meet at her house. I thought she was a young lady that I had spoken to in the dry cleaners. Instead, she was a young woman that works at the hair salon where I have my hair colored. Oh grow up, I color my hair, I'm old.
When we spoke the first time. I could feel the years of fear and distrust wafting off of her. That feeling, I knew, came from YEARS of dealing with a "shadow person". We spoke, and I could see what she felt and saw over the years. Saying that I had goosebumps is an understatement. I had a whole flock!
She contacted me, and asked that where I would be willing to meet her. Still thinking she was the other young lady, I committed to go to her parent's home.
I got there, and had to sit in the car for several minutes. Everything you say while watching a scary movie was running through my head. I have never felt fear like that. So, I stopped and prayed. Immediately, the fear was gone. I knew I could do this. I didn't want to, but knew I could.
As we talked (for over two hours) different things happened. The sound of things falling or being thrown, the closet door opening, (it was closed when we got there), being touched, and muffled sounds and talking not quite human. They were all coming from this young woman's bedroom. When the closet door slammed, I got up and walked down the hall. (NO, DON'T GO IN THERE) When I walked in, the closet door was open. None of us heard it open, but we all heard it slam shut.I could not, as hard as I tried, go inside the room. I think now, I'm glad I didn't.
I talked about the things that this young woman had been through. The parents were devastated. They had never believed that these things were happening, but as we talked, it became clear that they were indeed happening, and had been for over 15 years.
The father became angry with the entity. He recalled actually seeing the dark form one night, but passed it off as a shadow. He told me he wanted to confront it.
I told him he has to be calm. He had to show no fear, and no anger. That is what this thing feeds off of. I asked him if he could do that. He told me that he didn't think so. I told him that in that case, he had to get a priest to bless the house. He agreed.
We also spoke with two women that had lived next door while alive, but now are in this house to protect those that live there. This is not uncommon. This young ladies father and the rest of the family had become like family to this mother and daughter in life, now they wanted to protect them from this dark entity. I have to say, they did a pretty fair job of it.
It was a great reading, and led to the father taking action to get this thing out of his house. If for no other reason, the reading was clearly needed.
I got a text a few days ago, since the house has quieted down, this young woman has become engaged. I will meet with her and her husband to be next week. There are those on the other side waiting to give their blessings, and I can now give them with no negativity hanging over their heads. (Thank you, God!)
If you feel a dark presence in your home, don't dismiss it. Find a a priest or other clergy member to bless your home. You'll be happy you did.
Until next time,
Love and blessings!
Leigh
So...I'm a medium...well, I'm more of a large
Tuesday, September 22, 2015
Thursday, May 7, 2015
PLEASE READ:
I'm sick, but I read a message this morning that touched my soul. I think I need to share. I won't share the whole message or the name,but the answer, I will definitely share.
I got a message from a young man that said he wanted to book a reading with me. He wanted to know the cost for a skype reading, then he said something that had me in tears.
"Ms. Leigh, I want so much to talk with you. I want to know the cost for a skype reading, but it will not matter anyway. I am transgendered and you are a Christian. I know you will not love me, because Christians don't love gays and transgenders. I hope you will forgive me contacting you. I miss my grandmother so much, and just wanted her to know I love her. Forgive my poor English.
I asked him after I answered, if I could share with you guys. He said yes.
"Hi __________, Thank you for blessing me with your message. First of all my readings are always a love offering. I do this as a business, but I don't have a set cost. It is whatever the reading means to you.
Ok, getting that out of the way, I need to address something else. (your English is awesome, by the way) There is a lot of talk these days about what Christians do and don't believe. Most of the information comes from what others BELIEVE we believe without asking a real Christian. :)
I am not able to judge anyone, my friend. I also hide a secret from many people, including my family. God has told me that it's not time for my family to know yet, because it could harm their own walk with Him. (what I do is not very mainstream Christian, but it IS from God) I do have a church family, I am a conservative, evangelical,Christian. SURPRISE! smile emoticon I have given readings to many, many gays that have become WONDERFULLY supportive friends!
My job, my sweet friend, is to allow you to speak with those on the other side. WHY? The Bible says not to hang out with people like me, right? I'll tell you exactly why. There are many with my gift that work for the wrong side. (evil) They will use this gift to manipulate you, or pull you into more and more readings; Taking money, and looking to pull you to the darker side. That is the first reason God doesn't want you to do this. We are so anxious to speak with our loved ones we are quite literally ready to sell our souls to do so.
I believe with all my heart that God is behind each and every reading I give. Why? Why would God do that? God is love and God is fair. While it hurts him that we go against his wishes to reach those that have gone before, he never wants to lose ANY of us. Sometimes grief makes us angry with God. Sometimes it keeps us from the life and path that God wishes for us. To get us back to him, he will allow this to happen. Even though it hurts him to allow it, he would rather that, than to lose us.
God allows this, just as Jesus allowed Thomas to feel the scars and piercings in his body. It hurt Jesus that Thomas, who know Jesus, walked with him, talked with him, was beloved by him, did not believe without physical proof. But, take note, Jesus did not curse Thomas, or send him away. He welcomed him to touch him, and know for certain that Jesus was who he said he was.
Jesus commands me to love EVERYONE. Your sexual orientation or transgender status means nothing to me. I LOVE YOU, just the way you are. God also loves you. He just wants you to read about him, his son, and his Holy Spirit, and come to your OWN conclusions. He want YOU to come home to him when your time on this earth is done. So, with all my heart, do I.
If you still wish to skype with me, I would love to do so. I can tell you without reservation that your grandmother loves you and sees you. She knows EXACTLY who you are, and she LOVES you as God does. She celebrates with you, and grieves with you. She knows the problems you have had, and prays for you daily. Not that you will change, but that others will come to know the gentle, kind, wonderful young man you are.
Lastly, I will say this, if you know others in the gay or transgendered community that think God doesn't love them, please send them my way. I never want anyone to think they are walking this tough walk, we call life, alone. That simply is not true!
I hope I have answered your questions, and look forward to connecting you with your lovely grandmother.
With all my Christian love,
Leigh!"
May God add his blessings to all that come to read. If you disagree with this writing, you have the right to your opinions! If you decide to leave after reading this, I still will send my love and prayers to you!
I'm sick, but I read a message this morning that touched my soul. I think I need to share. I won't share the whole message or the name,but the answer, I will definitely share.
I got a message from a young man that said he wanted to book a reading with me. He wanted to know the cost for a skype reading, then he said something that had me in tears.
"Ms. Leigh, I want so much to talk with you. I want to know the cost for a skype reading, but it will not matter anyway. I am transgendered and you are a Christian. I know you will not love me, because Christians don't love gays and transgenders. I hope you will forgive me contacting you. I miss my grandmother so much, and just wanted her to know I love her. Forgive my poor English.
I asked him after I answered, if I could share with you guys. He said yes.
"Hi __________, Thank you for blessing me with your message. First of all my readings are always a love offering. I do this as a business, but I don't have a set cost. It is whatever the reading means to you.
Ok, getting that out of the way, I need to address something else. (your English is awesome, by the way) There is a lot of talk these days about what Christians do and don't believe. Most of the information comes from what others BELIEVE we believe without asking a real Christian. :)
I am not able to judge anyone, my friend. I also hide a secret from many people, including my family. God has told me that it's not time for my family to know yet, because it could harm their own walk with Him. (what I do is not very mainstream Christian, but it IS from God) I do have a church family, I am a conservative, evangelical,Christian. SURPRISE! smile emoticon I have given readings to many, many gays that have become WONDERFULLY supportive friends!
My job, my sweet friend, is to allow you to speak with those on the other side. WHY? The Bible says not to hang out with people like me, right? I'll tell you exactly why. There are many with my gift that work for the wrong side. (evil) They will use this gift to manipulate you, or pull you into more and more readings; Taking money, and looking to pull you to the darker side. That is the first reason God doesn't want you to do this. We are so anxious to speak with our loved ones we are quite literally ready to sell our souls to do so.
I believe with all my heart that God is behind each and every reading I give. Why? Why would God do that? God is love and God is fair. While it hurts him that we go against his wishes to reach those that have gone before, he never wants to lose ANY of us. Sometimes grief makes us angry with God. Sometimes it keeps us from the life and path that God wishes for us. To get us back to him, he will allow this to happen. Even though it hurts him to allow it, he would rather that, than to lose us.
God allows this, just as Jesus allowed Thomas to feel the scars and piercings in his body. It hurt Jesus that Thomas, who know Jesus, walked with him, talked with him, was beloved by him, did not believe without physical proof. But, take note, Jesus did not curse Thomas, or send him away. He welcomed him to touch him, and know for certain that Jesus was who he said he was.
Jesus commands me to love EVERYONE. Your sexual orientation or transgender status means nothing to me. I LOVE YOU, just the way you are. God also loves you. He just wants you to read about him, his son, and his Holy Spirit, and come to your OWN conclusions. He want YOU to come home to him when your time on this earth is done. So, with all my heart, do I.
If you still wish to skype with me, I would love to do so. I can tell you without reservation that your grandmother loves you and sees you. She knows EXACTLY who you are, and she LOVES you as God does. She celebrates with you, and grieves with you. She knows the problems you have had, and prays for you daily. Not that you will change, but that others will come to know the gentle, kind, wonderful young man you are.
Lastly, I will say this, if you know others in the gay or transgendered community that think God doesn't love them, please send them my way. I never want anyone to think they are walking this tough walk, we call life, alone. That simply is not true!
I hope I have answered your questions, and look forward to connecting you with your lovely grandmother.
With all my Christian love,
Leigh!"
May God add his blessings to all that come to read. If you disagree with this writing, you have the right to your opinions! If you decide to leave after reading this, I still will send my love and prayers to you!
Tuesday, April 7, 2015
Sometimes I just want to be the MOM, not the medium
I have never liked when a soul comes in my room in the middle of the
night, and sits on my bed, or stands over me. It's scary and
threatening, even when they don't mean for it to be.
The thing that makes me the most sad, is that my children won't come in to wake me up. It scares them when they come in, and touch my shoulder. I'm like a navy seal. I come up yelling and swinging. After so many years of this, I simply can't help it.
People often say they wish they had my gift. This is just one example of why you wouldn't want it. You can not separate the medium part of you from your day to day life. The souls will not allow it. They wake me up, they can make me get out of bed to write things down for a reading. It can be exhausting.
The thing that makes me the most sad, is that my children won't come in to wake me up. It scares them when they come in, and touch my shoulder. I'm like a navy seal. I come up yelling and swinging. After so many years of this, I simply can't help it.
People often say they wish they had my gift. This is just one example of why you wouldn't want it. You can not separate the medium part of you from your day to day life. The souls will not allow it. They wake me up, they can make me get out of bed to write things down for a reading. It can be exhausting.
My children pay a heavy price for my gift. They have no idea what mom
does for a living, and I've been asked not to tell them yet. It's
protection for them for now. When I say, I LOVE my gift, I mean it. I
just wish there were times I could turn it off for some time, and just
be a wife and mother.
My prayer for all of you today, is that you seek exactly what God wishes for your life. It may not always be comfortable or fun, but it will fulfill you like nothing you have ever done before.
Leigh!
My prayer for all of you today, is that you seek exactly what God wishes for your life. It may not always be comfortable or fun, but it will fulfill you like nothing you have ever done before.
Leigh!
Monday, April 6, 2015
When imaginary friends, aren't
This
is a question I get almost EVERY reading: How do you do this? That is
such an excellent question, and it deserves an excellent answer. The
answer is, I have NO earthly idea. I have always said that I have been
able to do this since I was 7 years old. I have realized recently, that I
have had this ability since birth.
How do I know? Pay attention when your children tell you about their imaginary friends. I had one named Cynthia from the ages of three to six.
Cynthia lived in my grandmother's house in Little Rock. I only got to see her when we visited. My parents would always smile and ask me how Cynthia was, and what we talked about. I knew they didn't believe that Cynthia was real, but I told them what she said anyway. They were amazed at my vocabulary, and my grasp of events that happened when I was too little to remember or not even born. Like Cynthia's sadness that John F. Kennedy had been shot.
I spoke to Cynthia in the dressing table mirror. My grandmother had a beautiful dressing table. It had a lot of drawers, and they held fascinating things for a child of four.
I would sit for hours talking to Cynthia about many, many things. I always talked out loud, because that was how Cynthia spoke to me, and ONLY to me.
She even gave me a dream the summer before my mother died that fall. In the dream, my mother spoke to me, and told me she was ok, and that she would always watch over me. When I woke up, my mother was laying next to me, at my grandmother's house, in the big canopied bed, that belonged to my great aunt. Four months later, my mother was dead. It was the only prophetic dream I ever had.
When I looked in the mirror, I saw a teenager. She was fourteen to fifteen years old. That was my beautiful friend, Cynthia. When anyone else looked in the mirror, they only saw me. I thought this was quite humorous, that they were so silly. It was as plain as the nose on my face, that Cynthia wasn't imaginary nor invisible.
My mother died when I was six. My grandmother moved into our house, with her dressing table, but Cynthia wasn't there. I would sit for hours, waiting for Cynthia to come back and speak to me, but she never did. My father and grandmother chalked it up to me being older, and putting away childish things like imaginary friends. Only recently, did I realize they were wrong.
I wonder if any of the people who have bought that house on North University were ever able to speak to Cynthia. I know she is still there. I hope she knows how much I miss her.
If you haven't yet, please go like my facebook page Leigh Harris Wells.
Praying for all of you today,
Leigh!
How do I know? Pay attention when your children tell you about their imaginary friends. I had one named Cynthia from the ages of three to six.
Cynthia lived in my grandmother's house in Little Rock. I only got to see her when we visited. My parents would always smile and ask me how Cynthia was, and what we talked about. I knew they didn't believe that Cynthia was real, but I told them what she said anyway. They were amazed at my vocabulary, and my grasp of events that happened when I was too little to remember or not even born. Like Cynthia's sadness that John F. Kennedy had been shot.
I spoke to Cynthia in the dressing table mirror. My grandmother had a beautiful dressing table. It had a lot of drawers, and they held fascinating things for a child of four.
I would sit for hours talking to Cynthia about many, many things. I always talked out loud, because that was how Cynthia spoke to me, and ONLY to me.
She even gave me a dream the summer before my mother died that fall. In the dream, my mother spoke to me, and told me she was ok, and that she would always watch over me. When I woke up, my mother was laying next to me, at my grandmother's house, in the big canopied bed, that belonged to my great aunt. Four months later, my mother was dead. It was the only prophetic dream I ever had.
When I looked in the mirror, I saw a teenager. She was fourteen to fifteen years old. That was my beautiful friend, Cynthia. When anyone else looked in the mirror, they only saw me. I thought this was quite humorous, that they were so silly. It was as plain as the nose on my face, that Cynthia wasn't imaginary nor invisible.
My mother died when I was six. My grandmother moved into our house, with her dressing table, but Cynthia wasn't there. I would sit for hours, waiting for Cynthia to come back and speak to me, but she never did. My father and grandmother chalked it up to me being older, and putting away childish things like imaginary friends. Only recently, did I realize they were wrong.
I wonder if any of the people who have bought that house on North University were ever able to speak to Cynthia. I know she is still there. I hope she knows how much I miss her.
If you haven't yet, please go like my facebook page Leigh Harris Wells.
Praying for all of you today,
Leigh!
Sunday, March 29, 2015
Being a medium in the electronic age!
I NOW finally have a facebook page! Leigh Harris Wells! I also set up Skype so that I can set up remote private and group readings! Please come like my page.
God bless until the next time,
Leigh!
God bless until the next time,
Leigh!
Saturday, February 28, 2015
The sadness in my soul tonight
I was a pre-k and kindergarten teacher for many, many years. People think that teachers just go to school and teach. They stand at a black board or smart board all day, hand out homework, give grades, and wait for summer.
I don't know about other teachers, but that wasn't me. I loved all my student. Yes, some more than others. Some were a joy to see leave at the end of the day, but there isn't a child that I taught, that I didn't love.
Today, I got a text that broke my heart. One of my former students passed away.
I worked with before and after kids for all of my thirteen years of teaching. We had kids pre-k through sixth grade in our program. So, after a full day of teaching (and before), I spent time with the before and after school kids. This little boy started with me at the age of six, and stayed with me, until the summer after sixth grade. I won't state his real name, but let's just call him M.
M was a beautiful child. He was kind, caring, and ALL BOY. He was from a broken home. I knew his mother and father. I knew/know his paternal grandparents. That's how things work in small, southern, towns.
M's mother was a piece of work. She was ugly and cold on the inside, but she was beautiful on the outside. When M was a little boy he had an "accident". An iron "fell" on him. His mother said he pulled it off the ironing board. He carried the scar for the rest of his life, but that wasn't the only scar M had.
After M's mother and father divorced, she remarried. They had another child, and this child could do no wrong in his mother's eyes. M was a reminder of her first husband, and was punished for that fact daily.
Parents think teachers don't see, hear, or know all that we do. Yes, I know that children fabricate sometimes, but teachers know how to see through that. We usually know truth from fiction. I knew what M went through, and I was powerless to stop it.
M had a bright spot in the sadness of his world. His grandmother is a wonderful, caring woman. M spent most weekends with her, and several nights during the week. The maternal love he knew came from her.
I know that when M was with us in after care, and in the summer, he was happy. He always looked after the younger children, and made sure they were treated kindly by the "big kids". He didn't have to do this, it just came naturally to him. The younger children looked up to him, and followed him around. He was always patient, and took time to explain the rules of games, or help them through a difficult level of Math Blaster, or Carmen Sandiego. Yes, M was a bright child too.
I lost touch with M, after he became too old to come to our after school program. His mother moved to another state with M and his little brother. I asked about him often when I ran into his grandmother. I knew his mother put him in a military school when he started standing up to her, and after high school, he joined the military.
I don't know what killed this young man. I have my suspicions, but I don't know for sure. I have spent my whole day reaching out to him. I hope he will come visit me. I would love to see him again. If he never does, I hope he died knowing that this teacher loved him, and worried about him for years after he was one of my "kids".
Abuse takes many forms. Sometimes the scars it leaves can't be seen, but continue to cripple long after the child has grown up. The most likely demon a child will ever meet will come in the form of the humans that should protect and love them. Many of the children they torment can never wake from their nightmares, even when they grow old enough to leave the abuse.
Hug the ones you love. If there is someone you haven't seen in awhile, take the time to reach out, and let them know you are thinking of them.
Good-night, M! I hope heaven is everything you hoped. I hope you are finally at peace.
God bless and keep all of you that are reading. I pray tonight for children (of all ages) everywhere that are living with mental, emotional, and physical abuse. If you know these children, speak up, and keep speaking until someone listens.
Leigh
I don't know about other teachers, but that wasn't me. I loved all my student. Yes, some more than others. Some were a joy to see leave at the end of the day, but there isn't a child that I taught, that I didn't love.
Today, I got a text that broke my heart. One of my former students passed away.
I worked with before and after kids for all of my thirteen years of teaching. We had kids pre-k through sixth grade in our program. So, after a full day of teaching (and before), I spent time with the before and after school kids. This little boy started with me at the age of six, and stayed with me, until the summer after sixth grade. I won't state his real name, but let's just call him M.
M was a beautiful child. He was kind, caring, and ALL BOY. He was from a broken home. I knew his mother and father. I knew/know his paternal grandparents. That's how things work in small, southern, towns.
M's mother was a piece of work. She was ugly and cold on the inside, but she was beautiful on the outside. When M was a little boy he had an "accident". An iron "fell" on him. His mother said he pulled it off the ironing board. He carried the scar for the rest of his life, but that wasn't the only scar M had.
After M's mother and father divorced, she remarried. They had another child, and this child could do no wrong in his mother's eyes. M was a reminder of her first husband, and was punished for that fact daily.
Parents think teachers don't see, hear, or know all that we do. Yes, I know that children fabricate sometimes, but teachers know how to see through that. We usually know truth from fiction. I knew what M went through, and I was powerless to stop it.
M had a bright spot in the sadness of his world. His grandmother is a wonderful, caring woman. M spent most weekends with her, and several nights during the week. The maternal love he knew came from her.
I know that when M was with us in after care, and in the summer, he was happy. He always looked after the younger children, and made sure they were treated kindly by the "big kids". He didn't have to do this, it just came naturally to him. The younger children looked up to him, and followed him around. He was always patient, and took time to explain the rules of games, or help them through a difficult level of Math Blaster, or Carmen Sandiego. Yes, M was a bright child too.
I lost touch with M, after he became too old to come to our after school program. His mother moved to another state with M and his little brother. I asked about him often when I ran into his grandmother. I knew his mother put him in a military school when he started standing up to her, and after high school, he joined the military.
I don't know what killed this young man. I have my suspicions, but I don't know for sure. I have spent my whole day reaching out to him. I hope he will come visit me. I would love to see him again. If he never does, I hope he died knowing that this teacher loved him, and worried about him for years after he was one of my "kids".
Abuse takes many forms. Sometimes the scars it leaves can't be seen, but continue to cripple long after the child has grown up. The most likely demon a child will ever meet will come in the form of the humans that should protect and love them. Many of the children they torment can never wake from their nightmares, even when they grow old enough to leave the abuse.
Hug the ones you love. If there is someone you haven't seen in awhile, take the time to reach out, and let them know you are thinking of them.
Good-night, M! I hope heaven is everything you hoped. I hope you are finally at peace.
God bless and keep all of you that are reading. I pray tonight for children (of all ages) everywhere that are living with mental, emotional, and physical abuse. If you know these children, speak up, and keep speaking until someone listens.
Leigh
Saturday, February 21, 2015
Clean up SPIRIT on aisle 7
A few weeks ago, I was in Wal-Mart (I am the most boring medium EVER). When I walked in, there was a woman talking to a man near the front of the store. As I passed her, the voices started.
Them:"Talk to her!"
Me: "NO! I don't have time, I have to hurry!
Them: "Talk to her!"
Have I mentioned that souls are bossy britches?
This went back and forth as I shopped. Finally, I had everything, and told them if she was still in the store, I would talk to her.
I looked up and down every aisle. I couldn't find her. I started to panic. I know I looked like a crazy woman. I was in a hurry, it was almost time to pick up my youngest. I simply didn't have a lot of time.
I thought I was home free. She had left the store, and I didn't have to look like a lunatic talking to strangers...AGAIN!
As luck would have it (I don't believe in luck), she was just checking out. I found an empty lane, and made John Wayne proud cutting her off at the pass.
I ran up to her, cart and all.
Me: May I talk to you? (In your head hear the guy on Parks and Rec that talks REALLY LOUD!)
Her: (looking a little more than skeptical and maybe a little afraid.) ....sure....
Me: I told her who I was, and what I did. I told her about the older woman and man (not as old) that were with her. We talked about the woman first (her grandmother) Then her father stepped forward. I won't tell you exactly what he said, but he proved he was still watching and protecting on the other side.
This is when it got REAL to me. She said, "You aren't going to believe this, but I was just asking God for a sign last night that I was doing things right." I have to stop here, and say few things leave me speechless, but that did. I got chills all down my legs.
You guys know I question this thing constantly. For God to come through that clearly was so affirming for me. To KNOW that God hears and answers prayers, and to be the servant that answered that prayer, was just what I needed. When God sends me with the gift of a reading, he always gifts me too. He's pretty great that way.
She is opening a website soon. We talked quite a bit about God's hand in her business. She is a struggling single mom. (I don't think she will mind me sharing that) She reminded me a lot of my sister. She works hard, but wants something of her own. She wants her part of the American dream. I kind of love that, A LOT!
As soon as the site is open, I will post the link. Please take the time to visit it. She is a lovely young woman, and I want to help her all I can.
Have a blessed and safe weekend. Thank you to my new readers from Germany, France, and Poland! Welcome, and God bless!
Leigh!
Them:"Talk to her!"
Me: "NO! I don't have time, I have to hurry!
Them: "Talk to her!"
Have I mentioned that souls are bossy britches?
This went back and forth as I shopped. Finally, I had everything, and told them if she was still in the store, I would talk to her.
I looked up and down every aisle. I couldn't find her. I started to panic. I know I looked like a crazy woman. I was in a hurry, it was almost time to pick up my youngest. I simply didn't have a lot of time.
I thought I was home free. She had left the store, and I didn't have to look like a lunatic talking to strangers...AGAIN!
As luck would have it (I don't believe in luck), she was just checking out. I found an empty lane, and made John Wayne proud cutting her off at the pass.
I ran up to her, cart and all.
Me: May I talk to you? (In your head hear the guy on Parks and Rec that talks REALLY LOUD!)
Her: (looking a little more than skeptical and maybe a little afraid.) ....sure....
Me: I told her who I was, and what I did. I told her about the older woman and man (not as old) that were with her. We talked about the woman first (her grandmother) Then her father stepped forward. I won't tell you exactly what he said, but he proved he was still watching and protecting on the other side.
This is when it got REAL to me. She said, "You aren't going to believe this, but I was just asking God for a sign last night that I was doing things right." I have to stop here, and say few things leave me speechless, but that did. I got chills all down my legs.
You guys know I question this thing constantly. For God to come through that clearly was so affirming for me. To KNOW that God hears and answers prayers, and to be the servant that answered that prayer, was just what I needed. When God sends me with the gift of a reading, he always gifts me too. He's pretty great that way.
She is opening a website soon. We talked quite a bit about God's hand in her business. She is a struggling single mom. (I don't think she will mind me sharing that) She reminded me a lot of my sister. She works hard, but wants something of her own. She wants her part of the American dream. I kind of love that, A LOT!
As soon as the site is open, I will post the link. Please take the time to visit it. She is a lovely young woman, and I want to help her all I can.
Have a blessed and safe weekend. Thank you to my new readers from Germany, France, and Poland! Welcome, and God bless!
Leigh!
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