The darkest of a night is no match for the darkest moments of a soul. This day, crawling out of bed, with only a single care in her mind, do I leave this world and die, or hang in there? Hang in there for what? What? Grabbing her tattered silk robe, she sashed the belt around twice, and began the climb down those steps of despair, leading to her coffee pot.
As she felt the handle in her palm, she let her fingers clasp around it, while she reached into the cupboard for a white mug. Not hard by any imagination, since she only owned one coffee mug, and it was white. Coffee the nectar of the insane, she told herself, as she slow danced into the barren dining room, whose walls only held her conversations about the weak and weary.
A chill greeted her, as she set down at the circle table. The off-white tattered curtains waved at her, as she laid her head on the table.
“It’s cold outside. Might be best to close the window, and put on your unicorn slippers.”
With her head resting on her arm, she glanced beside her. “You again. Didn’t I kick you out?”
A season went and spring finally made its way to stay for a couple of months, but the dark cloud never escaped the hold she had on it. He often tried to ring her, and to guide her but never failed to meet her iron fist. “Why can’t she see me beyond the status that tagged me while alive?” He asked frequently, with no answer.
Spring revolved into summer, and to his shock, the unexpected occurred. She called out to him. He finally could enter the door, but was the condition attached too costly? Would her late husband’s agony for her deepen? Could he accept the verdict passed down by their guides, regarding her? The date already marked in the future of her suicide, and nothing could prevent this. Would he accept and go along with creating a spirit guide out of the living, before they die? Could he? Would he?
When she called his name again, asking him to bring her late husband, he arrived with him, and the scheming began.
The love of the spirit world and the worth they saw in her overruled all that circles around suicide. They began their teachings so she could assist those in the lower energy vibrations.
The love of these two spirits grew into thirteen spirits, with the majority being of other realms/dimensions. The growing possibility of her helping the lower spirit realm, after her death, became the talk of the different realms, including the spirits of the earth. Hope now was on the rise, amongst them.
Two years came and gone, and the deadly event that would knock out her spirit inched closer. February was just a blink away. As it came and left with her soul, the crew of eleven entities moved within and around her. Protection their aim, as the love for her leap in bounds, drawing others from these dimensions to want to be involved.
The woman they loved, who lived mostly a shattered life from early years on, to later years, held their attention. How could anyone who been sleuth so often champion the Phoenix?
Could she accomplish this one more time here on Earth? Could the love of these different spirits and realms be enough to introduce another way? Divine Love asked itself.
Could they build a turnpike for the earth, called heaven, and turn the earth people away from outworn concepts? If I brought back her spirit, could this group, now thirteen, bring her back to wanting life? Could they?
April 2015, the month of her birth, and marked the month of her death came and passed, with her walking home and feeling something enter her. Tears rolled down her face, for the hollowness that took over now held her spirit. The headphones attached to her MP3 player played, Gimme Me Shelter, by the Rolling Stones, which prompted her to pick up her speed and hurry home. Unlocking the door, and sitting at her table, she cried out, “John, I want to give people shelter. I want to live.”
At the moment, the collective thirteen recognized her spirit came back. How? It was lost and recorded not to return while still living on earth.
“Through the love of you to her, and it went beyond any expectations, as well as your love for those on the World Wide Web, I brought back her spirit. My request is if you will create the world you mapped out for her, after her death, here on Earth. Will you bring these teaching and build a turnpike called Heaven? Will you bless me with this?”
Two years later, four of them, who named themselves the Hippie Ghost Band started Divine Love’s request, while the others continued to work with her, and occasionally would speak to others. In their midst stood a medium, conduit that offered them the opportunity to talk in their own words. These four wrote six songs and she added them to her book, The Twin Flame Prophecy. It is one of the books that cover the love of other dimensions and realms and their joint effort to help the Hippie Ghost Band build this turnpike called Heaven.
Written in love for her thirteen spirit friends, Jasmine Renee begins the journey of sharing in blogs where they took her, and how they changed the course of her life.