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First of all, Gaddafi's youngest son, Saif al-Arab was killed in a bombing. I performed the purification ritual on him. As I completed I thanked Medicine Buddha and Quan Yin. Then I called for Archangel Michael to escort him into the Light (entering the Light enters the Master Vibration of God which releases all negative implants, templates etc). He looked very scared but was happy to be blessed. Archangel Michael was standing with his usual 8 foot tall stature. He was standing in front of the portal. Then he looked and noticed something. Chasing Saif was a large firey hell hound. Archangel Michael saw it and quickly escorted Saif into the portal of Light, then blocking entry to the portal he pulled out his blue sword and beheaded the firey hell hound before it could catch Saif. It instantly disappeared and Archangel Michael entered the portal and closed the portal. I was watching the spirit realm actions from Earth.

As I fell asleep I asked that my human body be filled with my oversoul and purified. I intended to be a vessel of Divine Will and Divine Love. I intended to release the human self for the Divine Self. I felt my monad entering my feet and squeezing into my finite body. Then I fell asleep.

As I slept I had 3 dreams.

Dream # 1

I forgot I was to get an award and was reminded by my boss that my award presentation was to begin downstairs in 9 minutes. When I arrived I was the last of 2 awardees. An entire crowd was in a large room including many higher ranking/prominents in the audience. I had a black overcoat on but I forgot my pants and had only shorts on. As my name was called I was concnetrating only on hiding my exposed legs. I got to the front and bowed before the presenter. It was a formal function. They gave me the award. I said thank you (the audience waited for a speech) but I quickly left the audience because of my discomfort with only shorts on. Afterward, I didn't know what the award was for, I read the certificate in which very much love was put into the writeup. I decided on my own accord in the past to donate blood during a blood donation at my work. It turned out, unknown to me, that I was the perfect match for someone who was dying and needed blood. I saved their life without knowing it and was a hero. My boss stopped by and asked how the presentation went and I said it was good. Then he said if anything needed changing on the award certificate to let him know. I said it was perfect.

My interpretation: The exposed legs were self explanatory. Last night I forgot to wear my pajama pants and my legs were cold. This was disrupting the dream and returning me from the dream world/astral plane to my cold human body. The award was maybe symbolism for the reward for work of spirit being done on Earth, costing much of my own blood but saving lives.

Dream # 2

I was watching a long line at the bank. A father was there with his teenage son. The teenage son wanted to do what he wanted and argued with the father that he wasn't always going to do what his father wants. The son wanted to leave the bank and the father said for him to stay in the line. I blessed them both and invoked Archangel Michael's protection for each, balancing the situation as much as could be done.

Interpretation- this dream is filled with duality, with an audience. I am to perform Earth service despite the audience/perspectives of the Earth's inhabitants and perform unity despite the dualistic nature.

Dream # 3

I dreamt I was on a busy bus full of people. I saw an angel sitting with each person. The people didn't notice the angels but they were smiling at me.

Interpretation- the angels are here with us to protect us and wait for us to ask for help, even if we don't seem to notice them.

I woke up this morning and saw the news that Osama bin Laden was killed. I will not let duality and the mind win in this interpretation. Although many are celebrating his death, I may remind you Al Qaeda celebrated the death of the Western nations' populations. So may I ask you in this situation, who is the murderer? The answer is easy...both. The bombs killed Pakistanis and Afghan families, as did the World Trade Center bombing and all the military losses in the wars. So we are in the tennis match of duality. It is similar to my dream. From each angle one is correct in their own way. I advise you to step back from duality and enter unity. Unify the forces, don't take sides. The solution to release of separation and duality is universal unconditional Love. So I will be performing the purification for Osama bin Laden tonight as I would for Bush, Cheney, Rumsfeld if they passed. I performed it for Saddam as I would for Gaddafi. I perform it for the vicitms of war and the oppressors. I perform it for anyone who passes. Why? All beings deserve Love. The purification ritual invokes the master vibration, releasing all that is not Love...so it only helps. As we purify those that are deemed "dark" we purify the sections of us that are deemed "dark" which separate us. As we purify others, so we purify. As we release others from duality, so we release ourselves. We are all One, and since we are One...what we do to others is done for us.

Wishing much Love to all of you,
Chris / Qan Melchizedek

 
Copyright © Chris Comish. http://www.cityofshamballa.net/
This may be shared freely, as long as this copyright notice and website link remain intact.

2012 Message from Mother earth (1) 2012

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V6KWEFa-I-c

Message from Mother Earth (II) 2012

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2TuLAsI3u-Y

Message from Mother Earth (III) 2012

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VncfMaCPnW0

Message from Mother Earth (IV) 2012

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zRt7M0o4AY4

Message from Mother Earth (V) 2012

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LwxoTbjuekc

Message from Mother Earth (VI) 2012

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g-fBKcTeEbQ

A gift from a child with sea-blue eyes and hair the color sand

Posted by Elizabeth Cusova

She was six years old when I first met her on the beach near where I live. I drive to this beach, a distance of three or four miles, whenever the world begins to close in on me. She was building a sandcastle or something and looked up, her eyes as blue as the sea.

“Hello,” she said. I answered with a nod, not really in the mood to bother with a small child. “I’m building,” she said.

“I see that. What is it?” I asked, not caring.

“Oh, I don’t know, I just like the feel of sand.

“That sounds good, I thought, and slipped off my shoes. A sandpiper glided by.

“That’s a joy,” the child said.

“It’s a what?”

“It’s a joy. My mama says sandpipers come to bring us joy.” The bird went glding down the beach.

“Good-bye joy,” I muttered to myself, “hello pain,” and turned to walk on. I was depressed; my life seemed completely out of balance.

“What’s your name?” She wouldn’t give up.

“Ruth,” I answered. “I’m Ruth Peterson.”

“Mine’s Wendy… I’m six.”

“Hi, Wendy.”

She giggled. “You’re funny,” she said. In spite of my gloom I laughed too and walked on. Her musical giggle followed me.

“Come again, Mrs. P,” she called. “We’ll have another happy day.”

The days and weeks that followed belong to others: a group of unruly Boy Scouts, PTA meetings, and ailing mother. The sun was shining one morning as I took my hands out of the dishwater. “I need a sandpiper,” I said to myself, gathering up my coat. The ever-changing balm of the seashore awaited me.

The breeze was chilly, but I strode along, trying to recapture the serenity I needed. I had forgotten the child and was startled when she appeared.

“Hello, Mrs. P,” she said. “Do you want to play?”

“What did you have in mind?” I asked, with a twinge of annoyance.

“I don’t know, you say.”

“How about charades?” I asked sarcastically.

The tinkling laughter burst forth again. “I don’t know what that is.”

“Then let’s just walk.” Looking at her, I noticed the delicate fairness of her face
“Where do you live?” I asked.

“Over there.” She pointed toward a row of summer cottages. Strange, I thought, in winter.

“Where do you go to school?”

“I don’t go to school. Mommy says we’re on vacation.” She chattered little girl talk as we strolled up the beach, but my mind was on other things. When I left for home, Wendy said it had been a happy day.

Feeling surprisingly better, I smiled at her and agreed. Three weeks later, I rushed to my beach in a state of near panic. I was in no mood to even greet Wendy. I thought I saw her mother on the porch and felt like demanding she keep her child at home.

“Look, if you don’t mind,” I said crossly when Wendy caught up with me, “I’d rather be alone today.”
She seems unusually pale and out of breath.

“Why?” she asked.

I turned to her and shouted, “Because my mother died!” and thought, my God, why was I saying this to a little child?

“Oh,” she said quietly, “then this is a bad day.”

“Yes, and yesterday and the day before and-oh, go away!”

“Did it hurt? ”

“Did what hurt?” I was exasperated with her, with myself.

“When she died?” “Of course it hurt!” I snapped, misunderstanding, wrapped up in myself. I strode off. A month or so after that, when I next went to the beach, she wasn’t there. Feeling guilty, ashamed and admitting to myself I missed her, I went up to the cottage after my walk and knocked at the door. A drawn looking young woman with honey-colored hair opened the door.

“Hello,” I said. “I’m Ruth Peterson. I missed your little girl today and wondered where she was.”

“Oh yes, Mrs. Peterson, please come in” “Wendy talked of you so much.

I’m afraid I allowed her to bother you. If she was a nuisance, please, accept my apologies.”

“Not at all-she’s a delightful child,” I said, suddenly realizing that I meant it. “Where is she?”

“Wendy died last week, Mrs. Peterson. She had leukemia. Maybe she didn’t tell you.” Struck dumb, I groped for a chair. My breath caught.

“She loved this beach; so when she asked to come, we couldn’t say no.

She seemed so much better here and had a lot of what she called happy days. But the last few weeks, she declined rapidly…” her voice faltered.

“She left something for you…if only I can find it. Could you wait a moment while I look?”

I nodded stupidly, my mind racing for something, anything, to say to this lovely young woman. She handed me a smeared envelope, with MRS. P printed in bold, childish letters. Inside was a drawing in bright crayon hues-a yellow beach, a blue sea, and a brown bird. Underneath was carefully printed:

A SANDPIPER TO BRING YOU JOY

Tears welled up in my eyes, and a heart that had almost forgotten to love opened wide. I took Wendy’s mother in my arms. “I’m so sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” I muttered over and over, and we wept together.

The precious little picture is framed now and hangs in my study. Six words- one for each year of her life- that speak to me of harmony, courage, undemanding love. A gift from a child with sea-blue eyes and hair the color sand— who taught me the gift of love. Ruth Peterson

A man from Norfolk , VA called a local radio station to share this on Sept 11th, 2003, TWO YEARS AFTER THE TRAGEDIES OF 9/11/2001.

His name was Robert Matthews. These are his words:

A few weeks before Sept. 11th, my wife and I found out we were going to have our first child. She planned a trip out to California to visit her sister. On our way to the airport, we prayed that God would grant my wife a safe trip and be with her. Shortly after I said 'amen,' we both heard a loud pop and the car shook violently. We had blown out a tire. I replaced the tire as quickly as I could, but we still missed her flight. Both very upset, we drove home.

I received a call from my father who was retired NYFD. He asked what my wife's flight number was, but I explained that we missed the flight.

My father informed me that her flight was the one that crashed into the southern tower. I was too shocked to speak. My father also had more news for me; he was going to help. 'This is not something I can't just sit by for; I have to do something.'

I was concerned for his safety, of course, but more because he had never given his life to Christ. After a brief debate, I knew his mind was made up. Before he got off of the phone, he said, 'take good care of my grandchild. Those were the last words I ever heard my father say; he died while helping in the rescue effort.

My joy that my prayer of safety for my wife had been answered quickly became anger. I was angry at God, at my father, and at myself. I had gone for nearly two years blaming God for taking my father away. My son would never know his grandfather, my father had never accepted Christ, and I never got to say good-bye.

Then something happened. About two months ago, I was sitting at home with my wife and my son, when there was a knock on the door. I looked at my wife, but I could tell she wasn't expecting anyone. I opened the door to a couple with a small child.

The man looked at me and asked if my father's name was Jake Matthews. I told him it was. He quickly grabbed my hand and said, 'I never got the chance to meet your father, but it is an honor to meet his son.'

He explained to me that his wife had worked in the World Trade Center and had been caught inside after the attack. She was pregnant and had been caught under debris. He then explained that my father had been the one to find his wife and free her. My eyes welled up with tears as I thought of my father giving his life for people like this. He then said, 'there is something else you need to know.'

His wife then told me that as my father worked to free her, she talked to him and led him to Christ. I began sobbing at the news.

Now I know that when I get to Heaven, my father will be standing beside Jesus to welcome me, and that this family would be able to thank him themselves.

When their baby boy was born, they named him Jacob Matthew, in honor of the man who gave his life so that a mother and baby could live.

This story should help us to realize this: God is always in control.

We may not see the reason behind things, and we may never know this side of heaven, but God is ALWAYS in control.

Please take time to share this amazing story. You may never know the impact it may have on someone. God doesn't call the qualified, He qualifies the called.

Give thanks to the Lord for He is good. His love endures Forever. Psalm 136:1

David

A man from Norfolk , VA called a local radio station to share this on Sept 11th, 2003, TWO YEARS AFTER THE TRAGEDIES OF 9/11/2001.

His name was Robert Matthews. These are his words:

A few weeks before Sept. 11th, my wife and I found out we were going to have our first child. She planned a trip out to California to visit her sister. On our way to the airport, we prayed that God would grant my wife a safe trip and be with her. Shortly after I said 'amen,' we both heard a loud pop and the car shook violently. We had blown out a tire. I replaced the tire as quickly as I could, but we still missed her flight. Both very upset, we drove home.

I received a call from my father who was retired NYFD. He asked what my wife's flight number was, but I explained that we missed the flight.

My father informed me that her flight was the one that crashed into the southern tower. I was too shocked to speak. My father also had more news for me; he was going to help. 'This is not something I can't just sit by for; I have to do something.'

I was concerned for his safety, of course, but more because he had never given his life to Christ. After a brief debate, I knew his mind was made up. Before he got off of the phone, he said, 'take good care of my grandchild. Those were the last words I ever heard my father say; he died while helping in the rescue effort.

My joy that my prayer of safety for my wife had been answered quickly became anger. I was angry at God, at my father, and at myself. I had gone for nearly two years blaming God for taking my father away. My son would never know his grandfather, my father had never accepted Christ, and I never got to say good-bye.

Then something happened. About two months ago, I was sitting at home with my wife and my son, when there was a knock on the door. I looked at my wife, but I could tell she wasn't expecting anyone. I opened the door to a couple with a small child.

The man looked at me and asked if my father's name was Jake Matthews. I told him it was. He quickly grabbed my hand and said, 'I never got the chance to meet your father, but it is an honor to meet his son.'

He explained to me that his wife had worked in the World Trade Center and had been caught inside after the attack. She was pregnant and had been caught under debris. He then explained that my father had been the one to find his wife and free her. My eyes welled up with tears as I thought of my father giving his life for people like this. He then said, 'there is something else you need to know.'

His wife then told me that as my father worked to free her, she talked to him and led him to Christ. I began sobbing at the news.

Now I know that when I get to Heaven, my father will be standing beside Jesus to welcome me, and that this family would be able to thank him themselves.

When their baby boy was born, they named him Jacob Matthew, in honor of the man who gave his life so that a mother and baby could live.

This story should help us to realize this: God is always in control.

We may not see the reason behind things, and we may never know this side of heaven, but God is ALWAYS in control.

Please take time to share this amazing story. You may never know the impact it may have on someone. God doesn't call the qualified, He qualifies the called.

Give thanks to the Lord for He is good. His love endures Forever. Psalm 136:1

David

Archangels Meditation

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gsOWr_v_grk

Clearing and Shielding with Archangel Michael

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3FTigPVCgV8

Angel Meditation - Archangel Michael - Removes negativity from your life

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o7soa1EY44M

Gulf of Mexico Oil Spill: A Message from the Dolphins and Whales


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d6pOockMI2g


Posted by Marlene Marion