Phantasms of the Future

The strangeness did not start for quite a while after we moved into the flat on Taggert Street.

I do not know if it was all the commotion brought on by settling in and moving or by the tragedy of September 11^th. For that tragic event took place just weeks after we moved into the two story flat in Wesleyville; but for whatever reason we were oblivious to any strange or malignant presence that abided with us in that century old building.

We were dwelling in the bliss that envelopes ignorance.

Unfortunately that ignorance would soon be shattered in a series of occurrences that would not only unsettle the foundation of our family but it would also cause untold stress upon all of us who lived in that upper floor on Taggert Street.

We moved in at the same time with another young couple, they had two young children a boy only 5 years old and a girl who was soon approaching the tweenage year of 11. Our son had just been born the previous year and we had moved into the old flat because of the spaciousness of the apartment.

At our new neighbors were very friendly and helpful. I was if we had found some unknown long lost friends or relative who were more than willing to reach out to us and do whatever they could to make us feel accepted and comfortable in our new home. But soon that all changed and our new found friends soon became very aloof and only spoke to us in short sentences, soon finding a way to escape any contact and shun anyone from the world outside of their family.

They quickly became entirely different, and for no foreseeable reason on our part.

My wife and I wondered if it had anything to do with us. Had we done something to precipitate this exile from fellowship? We really could not think of anything that we could have done that would have caused such a change in character with our new found friends

Then to our surprise we found that despite a year long lease our new found friends had abandoned their apartment within two short months.

While they were loading the Ryder van I tried to asked them why they had decided to leave on such short notice and why they had not gave any inkling to us. All that Ken coud say in a glazed eyed stutter was “ We saw…everything…” and then he shook his head and wandered off to load the moving van with the remnants of his furniture.

Needless to say we did not know what to say as they loaded up the van and pulled away to their next home. We were left perplexed, puzzled and feeling a little bit off put wondering what could have compelled them to make such a move at what we conceived as a whim.

But it was not a whim, as soon we were to find out.

Our first inkling that there was something otherworldly involved was to come soon afterward when the lower flat had been abandoned for a few months.

I was in the washroom alone. Just putting down the tri-weekly load of laundry I felt there was something there watching me as I loaded the washing machine and as I was quickly flicking the switch I turned around to confront the person there behind me.

But I saw nothing.

That in and of itself would have been no bother at all if it were for the unusual coldness of the underground washing room. It was February but the furnaces in the basement were blowing full, pushing the hot air to the rooms above and there were multiple vents throughout the area. But still in this dark and dank netherworld the heat from the furnaces seemed to dissipate into nothingness before they reached me.

It was as if something was sucking the heat from the air.

Then out of the corner of my eye I saw the shadows move.

It was not the normal shifting of darkness that you would usually see, it was something solid moving in the unlit

corner.

Something large.

Against my better judgment I quickly turned and investigated the shifting shape in the dark and for a few seconds I did see it move and then… it quickly disappeared.

I did not relate the encounter to my wife who usually did the laundry because I did not want to alarm her without a reason, for I was sure that it had been a mirage or trick of the lighting. But the overwhelming sense that we were not alone in the house only increased over time.

Families in the downstairs apartment kept moving in and out very quickly. The longest tenant stayed only 6 months. One of them did let me know that not only did they feel very uneasy in the flat but that they were sure someone was lurking about at night while they were sleeping. Things were moved about and missing, and at one time they were sure they saw someone standing over their bed. The person was a large man in thermal underwear, but he had simply vanished. This confession made me wonder if the other previous tenants had too experienced the night visitor.

One of the most interesting and alarming development over the next year was my son began talking about his ‘ghost friend’. After talking to him in detail about what he was talking about I was sure that it was not an imaginary friend like other children his age usually conjured up when they were lonely. Not this ‘friend’ was invisible to him also but he knew it was there. He not only could feel its presence but he said he caught it hiding some of his toys. When I asked him how he had caught the creature hiding his toys he said he could not find them in his drawer but he had a sudden flash of insight where they had been stashed. He knew that his ‘ghost friend’ had taken them. Over the years my son has had multiple such flashes of insight and has connected them to his ethereal companion.

But perhaps the most bizarre experience I had with the entities of the house came just a few years ago in 2006. I was once again putting laundry in the downstairs washer. The bottom flat was once again empty and the landlord had just begun to remodel it. On this afternoon no one had been in the apartment and as I walked up the back stairwell I passed the downstairs flat door. There came a great crash from the inside and immediately I heard the running of tiny footsteps across the bare hardwood floor. I was sure it came from the inside since I had heard children playing there before and it came from inside and not above where my son was playing on his game console. The footsteps were that of a tiny child as well, but my son at the time was almost seven years old- these were the frantic steps of a toddler.

I did not know at the time a neighbor that lives across the street was sure she had seen people moving in front of the large windows of the front room. But of course the apartment was empty.

When I heard the sounds and the report from the neighbor I was sure we had a haunting on our hands, but I was a little shocked when a few months later a new family moved into the lower flat.

They had two little children who not only ran across those hardwood floors constantly, but they were always getting into mischief as well. If it was not the sound of the small feet running to and fro the sound of heavy crashing was always coming from the apartment below.

Having lived there for over 6 years I had heard the running of children many times. But the rhythm and impact that I had heard from the phantom child in 2006 was the exact rhythm and impact of the children who now resided there.

This was not an ordinary family, they had many problems. Both parents had addiction and abuse problems. The children were taken from the home within a year because of abuse. Both parents were jailed.

A short time later I was praying in my makeshift prayer room that I had assembled in the attic. As I prayed there was an unearthly rattle on the floor and I felt a very evil presence. The sound was as if someone was dragging themselves roughly across the attic floor slowly making there way to me.

There was nothing there.

But the sound of the dragging body was clear and undistinguishable. I could actually pinpoint where the ‘thing’ was as it crawled toward me. Immediately I fell back into my training and I commanded the thing to leave in the name of Christ.

The sound stopped.

It never returned.

Since that time there was no longer any ‘strange’ activity in the two flats, at least to my knowledge. My son’s ‘ghost friend’ also never paid him another visit.

I am perplexed at what exactly was dwelling in that building. There were entities there, of this I am still sure of that. But the footsteps from the future really throws me to this day.

Was it an entity or a glimpse of the future? Many people have told me that the building might have been some sort of paranormal vortex, but I am still not sure. Could the turmoil the little children experienced at the hands of their abusive parents have formed this phenomenon as a sort of cry for help?

I have no idea.

All I know is what I experienced.

Until Next Time,

Pastor Swope

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A Note of Caution for Paranormal Investigators

This last year has been such a blessing. Since my decision to first publish some of my tales the paranormal community has welcomed me and made me feel so at home.

That you read this blog is to me a blessing, and when you ask me questions of a religious or paranormal nature I am doubly blessed.

In a year that has been personally very tough I have been given strength and encouragement.

Thank you all so much.

To my readership I give a heartfelt thanks that I can only say has been a gift from God.

Throughout this year I have had some struggles in the subject of the paranormal that I may have raised but I have not fully voiced.

But I just have a fear and dread for some who have just begun to explore the dark corners of the earth.

Not to mince words I will just say it.

I fear by then end of this decade (and beyond) we will see a devastating toll in the ranks of paranormal investigators.

Many will face debilitating illness and those who have minor illnesses will see an increase to their inflictions.

I speak not of physical illness but mental ones.

Those of you who have come to know me in this blog should know that I never confuse a mental health issue with an instance of demonic oppression or infestation.

I know SO many that have mental health issues that the church has misguidedly assumed to be demonic and proceeded to cause more psychological damage to innocent victims that the numbers actually overwhelm me at times.

Instead of the peace that they sought in the church, they find that condemnation, judgment and misunderstanding. A place of solace for them has been transformed into yet another arena for them to be cast off as wrenched refuse.

It is a shame of indignity on the church as a whole in some circumstances and a cause for looming judgment for many Christians who think they live a prefect life yet choose to demean others who have no control over their circumstances.

No, I do not want you to confuse my compassion with my fears on this subject.

I fear that many Paranormal investigators in their zeal to uncover issues of the paranormal have unleashed forces in their lives which they have no control over. Forces that they are truly unprepared to face while trying to function in their normal day to day life apart from their ‘investigations’.

The issue at hand is how many handle encounters with various entities while in their investigations. I have observed an increasing number of individuals relating that they are trying to carry on a conversation with entities whose position and power they have no knowledge of. It is as if they are long lost friends with whom they are trying to catch up.

Even in the face of possible physical manifestation.

Let me just forewarn you that if the entity that you have been called on to investigate has in the past manifested itself physically in the real world you need to keep your guard up and be VERY cautious.

Even without such manifestations you still need to be very cautious when trying to communicate with entities.

The Bible warns about communications with spirits, and with good reason.

Deuteronomy 18:10-12 commands,

“There shall not be found among you anyone who makes his son or his daughter pass through the fire, or one who practices witchcraft, or a soothsayer, or one who interprets omens, or a sorcerer, or one who conjures spells, or a medium, or a spiritist, or one who calls up the dead. For all who do these things are an abomination to the LORD,.” NKJV.

Now as a good Biblical deconstructionist I of course have to ask why the Bible condemns such practices. Of course the easy answer that most Evangelicals and Fundamentalists would give is because in participating in these practices you are wandering into the Devil’s territory. Doing any of these things is and of itself ‘satanic’. However there are examples in the Bible where the Holy Men of history are participating in these very things.

Joseph apparently practiced divination. In Genesis 44:1-5 Joseph has servants put his ‘silver divination cup’ into his younger brother’s baggage in a ruse to reunite his unsuspecting family.

In Judges 6:35-37, Gideon a Judge of Israel used a fleece in the same way as soothsayers used various others objects to divine the future.

And in the book of Acts the remaining 11 Apostles draw lots to pick a replacement for Judas.

All of these practices are either the same ones condemned in Deuteronomy or bear a close resemblance in both form and substance to them.

So the command to not participate in these occult practices must have a deeper underlying meaning.

I feel they are condemned rituals because one can easily come into contact with demonic spirits while doing them and because of the nature of the practices one can easily become ensnared and manipulated by said evil entities.

These practices fall under the umbrella of the forbidden rites of communication with spirits.

Now why does the Bible and other religious tomes warn against communication with disembodied spirits?

Because they lie.

They lie very good.

Why?

Sometimes it seems as if they can read your mind and find the weakest spot of your psyche on which to feed upon.

And they want you to believe the lies they spit forth.

They want you to believe in them. To let your guard down.

They want power. Power over YOU.

They want to control you.

I know a woman who has spent most of her life in the church and whose life has been one of caring and giving. She is not just a religious woman, she is a spiritual woman. But she has spent most of her life in bondage. She was addicted to asking advice from her Ouija board. She would not make any decision no matter how small without asking her board first. And the board answered her with precise clarity. She told me it had a real personality of its own. It even told her unknown secrets and predicted the future. The spirit of the board became her best friend and confidant. Soon though she felt trapped by the spirit of the board and told her son, who was a church Elder, of her dabbling with the occult. In a solemn ritual they took the board out to the backyard and put it in a burning barrel.

It would not burn.

She is just one example, I know of many others who have been ensnared by the power of divination.

Demonic entities have one goal: to harm as many as they can. They hate human beings and will do anything to make their lives miserable.

And they can latch on to anyone who gives them undue attention or power. Letting the entity have control in an investigation feeds it and allows it develop a bond with the person who allows it to have control in a conversation.

I am not talking about asking simple questions or tasks that would assist in determining if there is an intelligent entity in the place of investigation. I am talking about those investigators who have drawn conclusions about the entity before any evidence as to its nature or origin is determined and they assume that the entity is the spirit is a deceased individual and try to ‘get to know it’.

Malevolent entities love the attention and would love to get to know the interviewer in an up close and personal way.

Powerful Demonic entities do seem to have some sort of telepathic or at least empathic ability. Whether they can actually read minds or have been around humans for so many millennia that they can predict human thought and behavior is a discussion for another day. That they have the ability to latch on to unsuspecting victims and affect them emotionally and psychologically is well documented and is the basis for demonic possession. But possession is a rarity, even though some popular television shows would like to have us think otherwise for the sake of the spectacular.

More common is Demonic oppression. It is when a dark entity latches onto a person and although it does not control the individual it does manipulate. Some signs of Demonic oppression are changes in personality, depression, suicidal or uncontrollable thoughts, addictions, increased severity of pre-existing psychological problems, undiagnosable physical ailments and poltergeist phenomena. Now the presence of any of these conditions does not mean Demonic oppression, but if they happen to manifest themselves after an encounter with an entity it might be a sign of an infestation. Of course even then it could be a natural occurrence and have nothing to do with the demonic at all, so caution mixed with wisdom and discretion is advised. If they are caused by Demonic oppression, in the long run normal treatments will not work. In fact the conditions might actually get worse. And the common wisdom of our current culture is to treat many of these conditions with pharmaceuticals, which will only hide the symptoms or exacerbate things.

What is needed is spiritual guidance and cleansing.

You need to find yourself a reputable person who has had training and experience in these areas. Sometimes that is hard to find.

In talking with a few associates I have decided to try to compile a national/international database of those who have both training and experience in the field of Demonology and spiritual deliverance or Exorcism to handle any such problems if the need arises. Those on the database could also be consulted in investigations as well.

The list is growing and we are hoping to compile it and distribute it within a few months. Of course it will be an ongoing project with names being included and updates being distributed periodically. The completed list will be distributed to all those included and to various paranormal investigative teams that wish to participate across the globe. Anyone in the general public who needs these services as well will be able to get in touch with anyone on the list through various contacts that shall be web accessible.

If you have had experience and training in Demonology and/or Deliverance-Exorcism please send you name, address, phone number, e-mail, limit of geographical area you would wish to travel in (most are saying within 100 miles from home) and a brief description of your experience or training to: theparanormalpastor@roadrunner.com .

Let’s fight the darkness together.

Until Next Time,

Pastor Swope

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The Grave Eaters

Right after the turmoil of WW2 and the reclamation of the Philippines by the Allies from the scourge of the invading Japanese forces, Christian Missionaries that had fled during the War finally came back to the islands to tend to the flocks that they had left behind.

Indeed there was an influx of Missionaries, because many who had been attending College and Seminary during the war years and had missed out in service during the war felt an obligation to reach out with love and healing to those who had suffered so much in those years of turmoil.

The Maknamar’s were of such ilk who had decided to dedicate their lives to heal the wounds that war had inflicted on the innocent no matter what the cost. And to them the cost was very high. Both Dennis and Marian had been raised in pre-war suburban America. They were not gilded by possessions as those who dwell in suburbia in our modern age.

They had suffered through the great depression.

Although times were tough it was not as bad for them as it had been for others. They had not lost anything in the crash of the stock market but the ramifications of the fall of 1929 echoed into the heartland where they grew up. To be truthful their lives were more severely impacted by the war rationing of WW2 than that of the Great Depression itself.

While in Seminary the common meal was greasy pan fried potatoes and onions. Meat was a commodity they neither could afford nor find. Instead it went to the troops who valiantly went forward to safeguard the earth from the Axis threat of Imperial Japan and Nazi Germany. They did not complain by doing without, they were grateful for those brave young men who served and gave their lives to secure a world free from such oppressive dictatorships. And in their deprivation of luxuries they felt camaraderie with the fighting men of the US military. It heightened their resolve to help those innocent victims who were feeling the desolation of War, those who neither had potatoes nor onions. Those thrown out into the jungle and who were lucky to find a pan let alone a fire to cook by.

So when they were able to serve they jumped at the chance. In their resolve to serve they chose most remote and hard hit locations they could find. When word came down from the headquarters of the Missionary council they were not disappointed, they were called to serve in the hard hit and impoverished town of Buangong several miles from the major city of Cagayan de Oro in the southern Isle of Mindanao.

The Maknamar’s family had descended from mountain folk from Western Pennsylvania, good and hearty Pennsylvania Dutch from the heartland of Germanic mountains. They knew how to survive off the land. They knew how to make do. With personal tragedy and experience they meager means they knew how to make do without the basics. They knew how to live and be thankful when others might grumble and complain.

They knew how to survive in the tough times.

But nothing prepared them to face the experiences they would encounter while at the Missionary station in Buangong all those long years ago.

One of Dennis’s duties was to help out in the funeral rites when a local passed away. Although the indigenous Pastors were the ones who presided over the services Mr. Maknamar’s assistance in prayer and support was expected and greatly appreciated.

It was during the funeral of an elderly grandmother that he heard some of the family murmering about their fear for the body if it were to be buried on the hillside graveyard where the family had plots. There was something disturbing the graves, and parts of bodies were missing from those newly buried.

They were sure that an Aswang was at work. And they feared the body of the grandmother would be its next victim.

A bit confused and unfamiliar with the term he asked the family why the police could not stop the grave robbers.

With whispered voices they corrected the young Missionary that they were not talking about mere grave robbers. The Aswang was a demonic spirit who lived off the rotting bodies of the dead. It would feast on the newly buried in order to maintain its hold in the physical world. Later after it had finished its gory meal it would replace the body with sticks and leaves from the nearby forest. There would be literally nothing left of the corpse after it was consumed, there was no waste. The dead body would replenish the Aswang’s physical form until its unholy hunger began to once again make it ethereal.

It seems the local cemeteries had been plagued for years with the terror of at least one Aswang. Some were completely abandoned for new burials, but when the families went to other cemeteries after a while the graves were found disturbed as well and when disinterred they found the familiar twisted foliage that the demonic spirit would leave behind after a meal.

It had struck twice in the last month at the hillside cemetery in which the grandmother was suppose to be laid to rest. In fact the creature was sighted late one evening running into the thick underbrush carrying off a gruesome morsel to sustain itself.

To Mr. Maknamar this was all a bunch of superstitious nonsense. He had been in the church for years and had never seen anything supernatural. He even doubted the miraculous, for he was raised in a church that believed miracles and supernatural events in a life of faith died along with the last apostle thousands of years ago. This was a different era, one of reasoned faith not of superstitious beliefs and fairy tales.

Although he did not believe in the Aswang, Dennis Maknamar knew that someone or something must be behind the grave robberies and he felt it was his duty to break this bondage to superstition that held the indigenous people in fear.

So he volunteered to camp out at the graveyard at night for a week, to confront this ‘demon’.

The family was in awe of the fearlessness of the young Missionary for there had never been anyone who dared confront an Aswang before. The Filipino pastor’s of the area volunteered to help out by prayer and fasting as the headstrong American confronted the monster in its lair.

So Dennis Maknamar pitched a tent next to the grave of the old Filipino grandmother, and waited to see what awaited him as he preformed his morbid vigil in the still of darkness. He did not, however, come unprepared. He brought along a military issue pistol that his brother had gave to him as a gift after he had returned from the European theater just the year before.

The first two nights went by without incident.

But at around 2 in the morning on the third evening watch Mr. Maknamar was awoken from a light sleep by a strange noise.

It was a slobbering wet sound.

As if someone without teeth were trying to eat thickly sauced spare ribs.

Removing the pistol from under his pillow Dennis pulled the hammer back and pushed open the tent flap.

All he saw at first was nothing but darkness. And the sickening slobber in the night stopped.

Then he heard the rustling of the underbrush and saw the thing dash into a thicket. Although its full shape was hidden in shadows he saw a small hunched back creature that resembled a twisted naked body of an old man. Except the color was different, it was not the color of any flesh he had seen, for it was light and almost translucent. As the creature bent to duck under the thicket it looked back at the young Missionary and he saw a dull green glow reflecting in the eyes of the thing as if from some unseen fire. And it the creatures mouth there was a half eaten arm.

That was when he quickly raised his hand and fired the pistol straight into the creatures face. He saw the thing’s head real back from the impact and the arm fly out of its mouth.

Then it was gone.

A few of the praying pastors ran up the hillside from their post at the gravedigger’s house to see what had happened. But there was nothing to see but a disturbed grave and a shaking American man holding a freshly fired pistol at the dismembered arm of the recently buried Filipino grandmother.

It took Dennis a few days to truly regain his composure, and he was sure of what he saw. He had just taken a step into a larger Universe. He had no idea what to do about the Aswang, but he knew that whatever was to be done about the creature he was ill prepared to deal with this otherworldly abomination.

So eventually they called in a Catholic Priest from a neighboring Providence who knew how to deal with demonic forces. He cleansed and reclaimed the graveyards and the ghoulish activities soon ceased.

Things eventually returned back to normal, and after the decades rolled on few locals remembered the incidents that happened in graveyards of Buangong. But Dennis Maknamar would never forget what he encountered that dark evening. For from that time on he could never again dismiss the supernatural as mere folk tales and superstitions. And his world would never be the same.

Until Next Time,

Pastor Swope

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Portents of 2009

In the spirit of the season, I would like to give some portents that have been given to me from others, that pertain to the year ahead.

Make of them as you like, remember if it from the lips of God it will abide, if from man…well then it shall stinketh…

The light of the east in the rubble of the west shall be a trouble for those who have forsaken the iron grip.

Beware of those who say peace to lull you into swift confidence; they shall eat you from the inside out and lay waste to the remains.

The peace that many long for will not be seen in the multitude, but in the stillness of the quiet night there will be those who will understand and be silent to watch.

The blood that flows from David shall indeed bring peace to all the sons of Abraham, but those who love the fast path to heaven shall never find it.

Those who have left may still linger but those who are still behind are more important. And those who seek an answer may ignore it while it still might be screaming in their face.

Turmoil sharpens the sword of the untested. It hardens the resolve of those who have abided and yet show mercy. The innocent shall lead those resigned to their destiny to greater day.

Oh yes and blue wins over green. Times 12.

While waiting…

Eat more veggies.

Good to the last.

Take it for what it is worth,

Until Next Time,

Pastor Swope

Angel Caught on Camera in Hospital

A Special Story for the Holiday Season

Soul Pillars

Recently I posted an article briefly covering a phenomena that I have discovered while researching the death experiences of terminally ill patients, I called them phone calls from the dead or Dead Ringers.

In these phenomena someone receives a phone call from the residence of someone who has recently or has long since passed this mortal veil. More times than not it coincides with the death of a terminally ill patient, and the ringer is somehow related to the deceased or the next of kin.

Many see this as an attempt by those who have recently passed to communicate to those who they have left behind. Usually the message is comforting, letting the loved ones know that the dead no longer suffer pain, and their love continues beyond the grave.

This is one of the most common paranormal events that happen at the end of life of terminally ill patients. It does not occur to every terminally ill loved one who crosses the veil, but it happens enough to show a clear pattern. I lost both of my parents in the 1980’s when I was in college, and I wish this would have happened to me. But it did not. But it has happened to others. Various medical partners in assisted living have witnessed it as well, so it is not ‘grief hallucinations’ as some would vehemently assert.

Another common phenomenon that I have found while researching the passing of terminally ill patients is that of ‘Soul Pillars’.

This is a phenomenon that is not readily perceived by the average person. And many who witness it almost never tell anyone else lest their sanity is called into question. But as I have investigated this phenomenon and sharing with my interviewees some of my personal paranormal experiences reports of this phenomenon arises over and over again.

It seems that when ‘sensitive’ individuals are around the time of death of certain patients they notice a light coming from the person’s body just as they pass away. Just as these same sensatives might have personal paranormal encounters such as visibly being able to see ghosts or other supernatural activity, they also are able to see this strange occurrence.

Many who have witnessed it have the opinion that they are witness to the patients soul passing from the body to the other side. Usually it lasts only for a few moments, from a split second to less than a minute. Other times Holy objects in the room where the deceased passes also have an influence over the ‘Soul Pillar’ and might even have a beam of energy to emit itself.

The color of the ‘Soul Pillar’ varies. Some people see a white pillar all the time, others see a pink or purple one. Some see pillars of various colors emitted from the dying ones body.

The location on the body from where the pillars are emitted also varies.

Most of the time people see the pillar coming from the chest, others see it sparking from the forehead. In rare occasions it comes from multiple sources.

What are these caregivers and family members witnessing? Is it the event where our soul actual leaves the body at time of death to cross over to the region beyond?

It is not ‘Grief Hallucinations’ since people who have been objective to the state of the patient see this phenomena more often than those in the immediate family, or the constant care nurse.

Following are a few stories of such happenings and you can make the conclusions yourself.

Becca has been with the visiting nurses association for almost two decades and has seen many patients slip through the mortal bonds of earth. It took her a long time to come to terms with regularly seeing her patients die, at first she tried to detach herself when she dealt with the terminally ill. But she saw this was not an answer. She tended to dehumanize her clients and that made her job cold, shallow and stressful. She was also sure that she was not giving her patients the quality care emotionally that they so desperately needed at this the end stage of life.

It took her about 5 years to develop a proper approach to her job in which she could both empathize with her patients and yet not become overwhelmingly enmeshed with their trials that it had an emotional impact on her life away from work.

It was shortly after this that she began to see the ‘Soul Pillars’.

As her custom when she began to see that the end was near for her patients she would gather at the bedside with any family that had been called to say their final goodbye’s. They would hold hands and pray in whatever faith language they chose to help their loved ones last moments be filled with love, song and spiritual care.

She remembered that she was gathered by one particular man’s side one afternoon, his son and daughter stood with her singing ‘Amazing Grace’ as the last raspy breaths came from their aged fathers lungs. Becca opened her eyes after on chorus to look down at her patient in order to make sure he was still breathing , since the rasping had ceased. She was astonished to see a blue-white pillar pouring from the dead man’s chest.

It looked like a large electrical bolt that only lasted for a split second.

The man’s children still had their eyes closed in prayer as they all sang together, but Becca saw the pillar springing from the chest and pass through the ceiling above.

It was gone in an instant.

She was amazed but did not share what she had seen with the patients family, and after a while was sure that it was just some mirage or trick of the ambient lighting.

But then it happened again. And again.

Now for Becca it happens almost all of the time. And she is no longer alone since others are now also spontaneously witnessing the pillars as they comfort others who are passing on. Within seconds of the last gasp of air, the pillar shoots up, and the body is just a lifeless shell. The soul has left the body to go…elsewhere.

Michelle worked in hospice for only a short time until her first encounter with a ‘Soul Pillar’. To her they always appeared purple or violet. They had become commonplace to the death experience with her. But one night she had a start as the commonplace supernatural experience changed drastically.

Reverend Arnold was diagnosed with cancer at the ripe old age of 82. It quickly ravaged his body and he was incapacitated within a few short months. Michelle had watched over the reverend with his faithful wife by their side for over two months before the final battle was over. Michelle heart the death rattle in the dying man’s breath and she knew it would only be a matter of time before he was gone. Almost on cue the purple pillar sprouted from the Reverend’s Chest and to her surprise the pastor’s wife saw it too and exclaimed with awe and wonder.

In barely a split second the light from the chest was joined by another equally powerful light. This time it was from the crucifix from across the room. It came in a long slender beam from the figure of Christ and entered into the dying man’s forehead. The pink beam seemed to intensify in power then at once both lights stopped at the same time.

The Reverend had passed.

Leaving an astonished group in the hospice room.

What had happened there? Even though not a Christian in the strict sense Michelle is certain that spiritual power flowed from that Crucifix into the dying Reverend’s body. But for what purpose?

One can only imagine.

If you have experienced similar experiences please write me in the Paranormal Narthex at the top right of the page, I would love to hear from you. If you wish I can add your stories to my book, “Ushered through the Veil” which highlights other at death supernatural occurances.

One thing I have learned through all this research is that at the time of death,

We are not alone.

No matter where we are, or in what situation death finds us.

Yet you are never alone when you break the mortal coil.

Until Next Time,

Pastor Swope

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A True Christmas Miracle

In the denomination in which I had my Theological training, The Christian and Missionary Alliance, one is trained to look for miracles. The CMA (which will give various false leads in Google if you are looking for the denomination instead of the Country Music Awards) believes that God works today as He did in the days of the New Testament, if you have the eyes of faith to perceive it.

I think that was one of the tenants that drew me to the Denomination like a magnet in the days when my faith in Christ was fresh and new. The excitement of infinite possibilities of faith visibly manifest in the congregation of the local church was a possibility I intrinsically knew existed, although many faiths have either ignored or denied such manifestations of the Godhead in modern times.

It was made real to me early in my Christian walk when I was told the story of Bettie by a new friend of mine at Lake Shore Alliance.

Sadly the church is no longer in existence. The World War 2 founders of the church have had their time to thrived and pass on, they have all recently gone through the veils of eternity. The church was experiencing a rapidly declining enrollment in the early 80s when I first began to attend the congregation. By the turn of the century the church had closed and its land was acquired by the denomination in order to start a new fresh outreach to the west county of Erie.

But back in 1983 when I first came to the church it was populated by a small but loyal group of people who reached out in love and compassion to anyone who entered their doors.

I was one of them.

As a troubled youth I had ran into trouble in the neighborhood and the congregants knew of me before my shadow even graced the steps of the front door. In the late 70s I was swept up in the drug culture and my companions were various elements of the criminal underground, my friends were thieves, drug dealers, violent bikers and various other malcontents. So inevitably I myself came to personally get to know the local law enforcement in the area, in a bad way.

But in May of 1983 I had a personal religious experience that changed my life, and instead of shopping around for a church I just went down to the end of the street to the nearest one, Lake Shore Alliance.

It was a wonderful match. I was immediately accepted and nurtured by wonderful caring people of all ages. It was a rarity even back then.

In the years at the church I heard my first Missionary stories, some of which I have related in this forum. In the atmosphere of acceptance of the supernatural I also had related to me many stories of miracles and works of wonder.

One of them I have to classify as a true Christmas miracle.

Jamie was only 16 and had been diagnosed with leukemia. She was a bright and thoughtful young girl who often spent her time helping others. She volunteered in a local rescue mission to feed the homeless, formed a youth group for inner city children and every holiday she would gather clothing and toys for the underprivileged who suffered through the long and harsh North Eastern winter season.

But in her 16^th year she could do none of these special things to help others that she thrived on. Instead she spent the Thanksgiving and Christmas season on the other end of the helping arm of charity as she was in the final stages of the disease and she could hardly even care for herself.

The family loved to camp, and in this her final Christmas they thought it would be a wonderful idea to spend the holidays in the camp they had deep in the Allegheny woodland, far from any vestiges of civilization. Jamie loved the snow covered landscape when they would come here during the winter season and having a special Christmas with just family and friends would build memories and ease her soul.

It was a wonderful time and the snow came down slowly making the experience a perfect holiday moment for the entire family. However, by December 23^rd the storm had increased to a full blown blizzard and it seems that the family would have no choice than to spend the holidays in the cabin for all the roads quickly became impassible.

That night as the winter gales blew and the thick snow mounted up around the cabin Jaime’s father was woken by an odd noise. It was the sound of the strong winds rushing through the cabin.

Upon exploring the reason for the sound Jamie’s father found that the front door of the cabin was wide open, and it seems it had been for quite a while, since a large pile of snow had built up at the doorstep.

Quickly he pushed the snow out of the way and closed and secured the door. As he turned to the couch in front of the fireplace where he had left his daughter for the night his heart skipped a beat.

Although the fire still roared in the fireplace, the couch was empty.

Jamie was gone.

He searched the cabin but she was nowhere to be found. So there was only one answer, for some reason she had wandered out into the storm.

In our day this would be tragic enough, but in the days before wireless phone service there was no way to alert the local authorities to the plight of the missing girl except for direct contact. There was no landline phone service in the isolated wilderness where the cabin was located.

So instead of immediately contacting the authorities the family bundled up and went searching for the young girl through the storm themselves.

Of course the blowing snow had covered all traces of her footprints, so their all night search was fruitless.

By morning they had lost hope that they could find the girl on their own so the father decided to finally make the long trip through the treacherous winter roads to the nearest town in order to contact the nearest authorities to aid them in the search.

It was a long and arduous journey just to get to the nearest main road in the mountainous area. It was almost mid day before he made it to the first road that had been plowed, and as he turned onto the road he saw something out of the corner of his eye.

There was a body lying in a snow drift by the side of the road.

It was Jamie.

As he ran to her it was obvious that she had somehow made it all the way down here in the night and she had come to the road after the plow had come through. She was unconscious on the drift of plowed snow. She was cold and barely breathing, but still alive. Quickly her father scooped her up and took her to the car. Frantically he drove to the nearest hospital which was almost an hour away. During this time he could hear her daughter mumble, which gave him some encouragement. But the words she mumbled puzzled him, “beautiful” she kept repeating, “you are so beautiful”.

They arrived at the emergency room and the doctors quickly took her back to make sure she had not suffered any permanent damage from the unsheltered overnight stay in the harsh winter storm.

Jamie’s father paced the floor for hours outside the hospital room waiting to hear the results of all the examinations and tests. The night had begun to fall on the 24^th before he would receive any concrete news about Jamie’s condition. Finally about 7:30PM the doctor overseeing her care came to him and told him the good news. Miraculously she was fine. She had a mild case of hypothermia but there was no frostbite and all the test came back normal. She was in perfect health.

Jamie’s father was a bit confused. In the confusion of the moment had he forgotten to tell the physicians about her terminal illness, or were they just speaking in general terms?

He asked the doctor how this incident would affect her battle with the cancer. The doctor looked puzzled, and looked back at the young girls chart.

Shaking his head in confusion he told the man that there was no sign of cancer in the young girl, but he would have to make a few more tests.

The father was upset and distraught, how could they have missed such a condition while they examined the young girl for so long a time? But there was nothing he could do but sit and wait again as the doctors preformed yet a few more tests on the young girl.

During an interim between going to x-rays and having blood tests he finally got to see Jamie. She looked healthier than she had in over a year. She was awake and smiling. He asked her what in the world she was thinking, wandering out in the harsh winter weather like she did.

As she replied her face seemed to radiate a peace and serenity that he had never noticed before. “Daddy, an angel came to me in the night. He carried me into the snow and carried me up to heaven. God did not want me there yet, He told me I had a lot to do before He would see me there. The angel took me back left me beside the road, he told me you would be coming soon but I got tired and I fell asleep.” Before saying any more the orderly took her away to the x-ray room.

Soon all the tests came back.

There was no sign of the Leukemia.

Jamie was cured.

A true Christmas miracle.

Jamie was sure she was not delusional and had wandered out in the blizzard by her own. She knew she had been given a second chance and had been touched by the healing hand of God. Therefore she dedicated her life to serving Him and helping others, and eventually went onto the Mission field to serve the underprivileged in the third world.

I never met Jamie, her family attended another CMA church in the area. But her story inspired many in the early 80s, including myself. How God worked in her life gave a comforting assurance that no matter how dire the circumstances God is always there. Sometimes there might not be a miraculous healing as spectacular as hers, but still God is there to comfort and help.

However, every once in a while in the midst of oppressive strife and suffering you do get a real unexplainable occurrence that defies all logic.

An honest to goodness miracle, that impacts lives for generations.

Until Next Time,

Pastor Swope