Ever-Flowing Streams

Ever-Flowing Streams  chronicles my spiritual adventures through the seemingly disconnected avenues of Christianity, the Japanese healing system of Reiki, quantum physics, A Course in Miracles, and past-life therapy. While living a middle-class, conventional life, I’m drawn into the healing prayer wave of the 1980’s. Seeking a healthier life and answers to a recurring medical mystery, I go beyond the boundaries of the church to study the emerging mind-body-spirit movements of the day. In 2005, an encounter with a Reiki therapist changes my life and challenges my belief system.  Ultimately, the book deals with the power of prayer and includes exercises for readers to explore their own healing possibilities.

Sometimes it’s just best to start at the beginning. Here is the opening for “Ever-Flowing Streams.” Sometimes an illness can be the start of a wonderful transformation.  It can also bring some amazing people into your life.

Chapter One

PROLOGUE

The Adventure Begins…

I sat down for lunch that summer day of 2005 feeling perfectly fine. Gazing out my dining room window, I enjoyed watching a pair of squirrels frolic along the fence between the giant oaks in my Oklahoma backyard. In the living room, the television hummed a Sunday afternoon football game. My husband would soon be snoring. I read a book and munched a few potato chips with my sandwich.

With no warning, pain shot up my neck and into my jaw. Ignore it. I took another bite. More pain, instant swelling below my ear.

Great, just what I need, I thought. Another attack.

Though I hadn’t experienced a full blown attack in several years, I recognized the familiar symptoms. Swollen glands and shooting pain that made eating impossible. I puzzled over what had set it off. Some might say “food allergy.” But after forty years experience, I knew the physical symptoms were merely a manifestation of a spiritual mystery.

As I sat cradling my sore neck, staring at my uneaten lunch, I heard a command in my head. Go see that woman. This has something to do with a past life. Go see that woman.

Oh, for heaven’s sake. I flipped the book I’d been reading over and gazed at the cover—One Soul, Many Lives by Roy Stemman. The book chronicled case studies of reincarnation. Brother, was I prone to the power of suggestion, or what?

My spiritual and intellectual curiosity had led me to many subjects, including reincarnation. It wasn’t a new concept to me. I’d read quite a few of the popular books during the 1970’s. There’s a certain fundamental sense of order and justice about karma.

Didn’t Jesus say “As you sow, so shall you reap”? Isn’t Dr. Laura always popping off about accepting the consequences of our actions? Reincarnation turns life into one big game of “Truth or Consequences” through time and space.

Still, wondering about reincarnation was sort of like pondering alien abductions. Maybe they were real, but I hadn’t personally been picked up by a UFO in a corn field.

Reluctant Patient

As my neck throbbed, I wasn’t in the mood to ponder either ET’s or Eastern philosophy. Another attack was upon me and it hurt like hell. Going to a regular doctor wouldn’t help. I’d been down that road many times before.

The thought commanded me again. GO SEE THAT WOMAN!

“That Woman” was an English New Agey therapist named Helen. My friend, Kathy, had been seeing Helen for Reiki energy therapy. During treatments Helen had told Kathy of past life experiences causing trouble today. According to this Helen person, my friend’s swallowing problems originated from being hanged in a previous incarnation. Her sore feet supposedly echoed the lifetime in China when her feet were bound.

Now, I really like Kathy, but I thought she was gullible. The therapist sounded a little too wacky for me.

GO SEE THAT WOMAN was not a command I wanted to obey.

I decided to handle the situation as I had done in the past–ask for some prayer and take anti-inflammatory medicine. Going to some dubious “therapist” was not going to happen.

So, that night I went to bed for a fitful sleep with my aching neck and the determination to tough it out. Somewhere around dawn I stirred, groggy and grumpy. My face felt oddly stiff. I sensed a matted eye.

Oh, great, add pink eye to the mix.

That was a new one. I stumbled into the bathroom, switched on the light and turned toward the mirror. I expected to see yellow, crusty matting.

Imagine my shock seeing blood. Caked blood surrounded my left eye. I peered closer. On the inside fresh blood welled up. I was tearing blood. Good grief. In forty years of attacks, that had never happened before.

Again I heard the command. GO SEE THAT WOMAN!

Okay, I knew how to take a hint.

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Ever-Flowing Streams   is exclusively available  as an ebook at Amazon