As we turned one corner, I saw a person walk across the hall. I was surprised and stopped walking.
It stood still slightly hunched over, slowly turned its head toward us, quickly straightened up, and ran in the direction it had been walking in. I looked at my friend and said, “Did you see…” at the same time, she said, “Did you see…” We both nodded, “Yes.”
I was doing the best I could to not physically shake with fear. I asked my mother, “Didn’t you say Sam was away for the weekend?” She answered in the affirmative. I thought, “Okay, so that really was a spirit I just saw.” I reminded her I only had a short time and that I’d like for us to sit down so I could talk to her.
My mother walked us into the kitchen and showed us what she’d cooked. Shrimps, broccoli, and rice, which are my favorite foods. I heard within myself again, “Don’t consume anything.” I told her I wasn’t hungry and I needed to talk to her. Reluctantly, she led the way to the dining room table. She sat at the head of the table. I sat to her immediate right facing a window overlooking her backyard and the woods at her boundary line. My friend sat to my right. I looked at her and saw she was staring out the window. I tried to ignore the countless pairs of red eyes peering at me from the woods. I felt they were being held behind a line. I felt I’d been giving a window of opportunity. I knew those eyes belonged to beings that inhabited my mother’s house and, yet, couldn’t be there while I was. I heard a voice from within remind me, “I’ll make a way for you.” I looked at my friend again, her head was down and her eyes closed. Her lips were moving. I knew she was praying. I gave my mother my full attention. I knew I was safe. I had the help I was told I would.
I took a deep breath and I began speaking. I shared with my mother everything I needed to. She sat quietly and listened. She didn’t interrupt as she had in times past. At times, during the difficult memories and feelings, she even seemed sad and near tears. I knew she was hearing me. After almost an hour, I felt like I’d said everything I needed to. I felt emptied of all the negative emotions. I felt as if I’d given back to her all the hurt she’d embedded in me as a child.
I felt it was time to go. I didn’t want to be abrupt, so I thanked her for listening and told her after I used the restroom we had to go. She began sharing how my words made her feel. She even apologized for what she’d done. She didn’t make excuses. She didn’t gaslight. She didn’t say, “I did the best I could.” I felt reassured that she did, indeed, hear me. She held herself accountable for how her actions affected me as a child.
As I got up to use the bathroom, I felt the Lord say, “It’s time to go.” I stopped walking and told my mother I’d wait because we had to get on the road. She reminded us she cooked and wanted us to eat. “Don’t consume anything,” repeated within me. I told her I wasn’t hungry and we had to go. I told my friend, “We need to go.” I heard, “Now,” and repeated that to my friend in a low voice out of earshot of my mother.
My friend was talking with my mother in the kitchen as I made my way to the door. I didn’t realize she wasn’t with me. I backtracked, looked her in her eyes, and said, “We need to go. Right now.” Her eyes opened wide and her brows furrowed as her mouth fell open. She turned to my mother and said something like, “It was so nice to see you again, but I really need to go.” My mother rushed to package food for us to take with us. “Don’t bring anything out.” I knew I couldn’t consume her food. I knew I couldn’t take it. My mother looked confused and a bit hurt, which was understandable. However, I was on a mission and that mission had come to an end.
I’d love to read your experiences with unsettling spiritual situations. How did you handle your feelings? Did you tell anyone of your experience(s)? Why or why not?
Comments always welcome.
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