Sunday, October 2, 2011

A story from Joann Ware: read her "Dreaming Together Until Morning."

From Joann Ware: Sometimes my dreams have taken on a slightly psychic bent. One night in May 1998, I dreamed about my grandmother, who had died the previous February. She told me, “Frank Sinatra was up here singing for us last night and it was just grand!” I was puzzled and said, “But Frank Sinatra isn’t dead.” She replied solemnly, “Oh yes he is, child. He died yesterday.” When I turned on the TV the next morning, I heard Katie Couric announce, “Today the world mourns entertainer Francis Albert Sinatra, who died yesterday at the age of 82.”
Anyone who's following this blog, please send me so-called paranormal stories that happened to you or to someone you know.
...that phrase came into my mind, and I knew it applied to him as well as the robe. He'd been a devoted Christian all his life, and "re-accepted" Jesus as his personal Savior from a wonderful evangelist I'd known as a real rascal from college. I was briefly surprised at how young he was; but mature. Then I was standing right in front of him and could feel his hands lightly holding the backs of my upper arms. We looked into each other's eyes and I heard the word "brother" but I noticed his lips didn't move. Then the scene became dim--I was just behind the right side of a concave line of maybe a dozen people, wearing robes and Lawrence of Arabia-type head coverings. Dad was in front of the middle of the line, and someone stepped up behind him and put a similar article on his head. I knew he was now complete, and I found myself again lying on my bed. A few minutes later my brother-in-law called and told me Dad had died. This "earthly" verification of what I already knew sent me into a crying fit. Eventually it tapered off, and in the early pre-dawn light a simple rectangular representation of a face appeared on the ceiling: horizontal lines for eyes and mouth, and a triangle in the middle. Everything but the triangle faded out. I thought to myself "I don't understand," and the face came back. It faded again, and this time I said out loud, "I still don't get it!" A voice in my head said "Blow your nose." That was what the triangle represented. I blew my nose and smelled a marvelous aroma, strong and throughout the house. I wish I had remembered the smell every few days or so, so that I could remember it now like the way I can remember how a rose smells
From a friend named Toly: Dad had lung cancer from a collapsed lung from a fall--he never went to a doctor and didn't know he was in trouble. As he was in no pain--ever--he told the doc he missed his wife and had some questions for God about Newton's second law. I was supposed to bring some friends to Bartlesvile who'd flown into Tulsa that night. It was said he'd last another week or two, but based on things that happened to him in his 30s he could've walked outta the hospital if he wanted to. For some reason I tidied up my house and then went to sleep lying on my back on the bed. At 4:45am on Feb. 28, '78, I saw a large brilliant--but not shiny--gold oval in front and above me. Through that my father stepped, in a white robe brighter than anything possible on earth but not dazzling. The Biblical phrase "without spot or blemish"

Saturday, October 1, 2011

A great story from my new friend, Joanne Ware: Not a problem at all, Katie. I've attached a word doc of the column.

That wasn't the first time I had a "psychic" dream involving my grandmother. We were extremely close. She loved Princess Diana and used to ask me to buy magazines with Diana on the cover. When Diana died, I had never seen my grandmother so upset. She told me, "I've lived through The Great Depression, two World Wars and the assassination of a president, but I've never seen anything as sad as Diana's funeral." In October 1997, about six weeks after Diana died, I had a dream that Diana appeared at my bedside. She told me that in four months time, something would happen to my family. She couldn't tell me what it was then, but she wanted me to be prepared for a major shake-up. Four months later, my grandmother died.