Middle of the night stillness made me feel alone in the universe that night of 1982. I sat in my Oklahoma City living room rocking my fretful five-month-old baby, Cary, through another night of ear infection restlessness. We were caught in a cycle, rounds of antibiotic pink medicine. Seemingly better, then flared up infection again. Cary and I were both very weary of her illness.
I’d recently joined a healing prayer group at my church, a whole new concept to someone pretty much attending church to make friends rather than following religious fervor. Agnes Sanford’s classic book, The Healing Light, had been on the recommended reading list. Dealing with a chronically sick baby is incentive for reading about healing and anything to solve the problem. So, I dove into The Healing Light.
Agnes Sanford was a major figure of the Christian Charismatic movement of the middle 20th century. Raised in China by missionary parents, she picked up Eastern ideas of spiritual forces. Later, as the wife of an Episcopal minister, she witnessed the power of healing prayer. Her blended ideas, observations, and experiences became the basis of The Healing Light.
Sanford contended that healing energy is available to everyone. People simply have to learn how to turn it on. She likened it to a light bulb. If the bulb is in its socket, a power source needs to be flipped on to make it shine. Begging and wishing doesn’t turn it on. You can plead, “Please, bulb, please turn on.” Nothing will happen. But, connected to its energy source, the light beams.
She described the Healing Light and how to “turn it on.” It was on that dark night, long ago, I first connected with the Healing Light. As I rocked Cary in the dim living room, I imagined a shaft of divine energy opening up over my head. I prayed for help. I prayed for connection. My hands cupped over her ears and I imagined light rippling from the heavens, into my head and down my arms. The chair rocked and rocked and rocked. My head warmed and buzzed. Energy traveled through my body. That night only my right hand warmed and pulsed. Waves of energy rose in a crescendo and slowly faded. The baby fell limp in my arms and finally surrendered to sleep. I continued rocking a while, knowing something profound had just happened.
Indeed, the next visit to the pediatrician revealed her right ear was completely healed, the left improved. The cycle of infections was over.
That was the beginning of life-long supernal adventures in healing energy. Many modalities have followed, including Reiki and The Reconnection. But, it was Agnes Sanford and The Healing Light that formed the foundation of my life in healing.
The Healing Light Meditation is available on YouTube and also now ad-free on the HEALING MEDITATIONS page at Supernal Living.
Bright Blessings,
Dana
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Ever-Flowing Streams: Christ, Reiki, Reincarnation & Me
by Dana Taylor
At this point I have mixed feelings about the historical teachings of the institutional church. From the time Emperor Constantine quit the persecution of Christians and embraced the new religion, men began manipulating the masses for control. The church has attracted true saints and also those wolves in sheeps’ clothing Jesus warned about. Killing in the name of Christ brought us the Crusades, the Inquisition, pogroms, and assorted religious wars. Men’s cultural power over women was reinforced by church doctrine. Many sermons make me grind my teeth when I hear a “woman’s place” given as God’s edict. (As an Oklahoma friend of mine put it, I am sick and tired of some middle aged white man telling me how I should live.) The faithful have suffered grievously from priestly sexual abuse finally exposed in recent years. It hasn’t all been pretty, pious, or peaceful.
