Independence Day
by Steffany Barton


I took a deep breath and reminded myself of the old saying, "The truth shall set you free."

The letter composed itself as follows:

Hi Dad--
Here is the story as it stands. I hope you're sitting down. I have some clients tomorrow. It is a group setting. You may wonder why I would have more than one client for a massage, but that's because my angel work is just what it sounds like; I talk to people's angels and deceased loved ones. I realized I could do this about five years ago and didn't understand it. I was lucky enough to find people in the spiritual community who helped me understand what was happening. Have you ever heard of John Edward? I'm like him.

I'm proud of the work I do, and so is Dave. He's seen my readings and knows it is real. When you came to town for Brad's wedding, I was working at a fair, the Psychic Fair. I saw 40 people that weekend, helping them make connections and gain closure with spirits on the other side. I love what I do and know that I have found my calling.

I read its contents and aligned the cursor over the send button. With a deep breath, I clicked the mouse. In that moment, I realized that freedom of religion sometimes means freedom from religion.

Ironically, one of my earliest memories involves the Buddha. My father had completed a tour of duty in Vietnam and brought back a statue of the beloved deity. Years later, I awoke one morning and saw the little concrete man sitting on the curb next to the trash. I asked my mother with concern, "Mom, why are you throwing away that man?"

"Because he's evil," came her swift reply.

Being raised in a fundamental religion, such experiences became typical. Although I was allowed to wear jeans, I was continually reminded of my rightful place as a woman. Based on scripture, I learned that women could not enter the temple because menstruation made them unclean. Another Biblical author penned that it "is good for a man not to touch a woman." God was an old white man sitting on a throne in the sky, and he was angry. Every day we waged war against a devil who constantly tried to steal our souls.

The population in Heaven was pretty small, as it was reserved for members of my church. We sent missionaries to remote locations in hopes of bringing "primitive" tribes to the Lord. Because we knew the way, their lost souls were on our heads. I had to buckle down, work hard and suffer today so that upon my death, treasures would be waiting for me in Heaven.

On several occasions as a child, I could "see" people and beings my parents and elders couldn't. When I asked who these creatures were, I learned they were demons trying to get me. I found this confusing, because they seemed nice, even comforting at times. But with time and a lot of prayer, I ceased to see them.

My first year in college, I enrolled in a "Women in Religion" class. During the semester I was exposed to various belief systems. Some, like my own, endorsed misogynistic practices. A few didn't, and not surprisingly, I found myself beginning to gravitate toward them.

All this occurred in secret, behind closed doors. I still went to church with my parents, because I was afraid they would disown me if they knew I had started to question my religious upbringing. Each Sunday I would enter church with the intention to make it work, that I could somehow make myself conform. Still, I felt like I was trying to wear an outfit that just didn't fit; it may have looked great on someone else, but it didn't fit me.

The more I nurtured my budding spirituality, the less I understood of my religion.

After graduating college, I moved away from my family of origin. I found different support in the spiritual community, and knew that I had come "home" for the first time. I began to see the beings of light I had viewed as a child and realized, to my delight, that they were angels. Soon, more abilities opened up, and my love of God increased exponentially.

Yet, I was in the spiritual closet. Afraid to disappoint or embarrass my family, I hid my fledgling beliefs, keeping my true self chained to fear.

Many of us hide in a closet of fear. From issues of sexuality to spirituality, we imprison ourselves in shame. The threat of abandonment, rejection and isolation often bind us to a socially acceptable façade. If freedom could be attained only through telling the truth and then never again seeing my family, I argued, I would not be free. The cost was too high.

With time, I learned that the energy necessary to conceal my true self could be used in more productive ways. The process was not easy, and I spent many sleepless nights coming to peace with my decision. I came to a place of understanding that said to my family, "I accept you exactly as you are, regardless of what you believe."

More importantly, I realized that I must accept myself exactly as I am, regardless of what they believe about me.

The story is still writing itself. My father's response to the note was initially deafening silence. Then came a singular comment, "What you do -- talking to angels and dead people -- cannot be from God."

I know who I am and what I do. I am a lightworker who is in communion with God.

For it is in speaking our truth and standing up for who we are that we become free.

Steffany Barton is a clairvoyant/clairaudient Certified AngelTherapy Practitioner and Reiki Master who holds a degree in Nursing. She has been personally trained by Doreen Virtue, Ph.D., and works with the angelic and spirit realms on a full time basis. She can be reached for appointment at (913) 451-4567 or email at Steffany@angelsinsight.com
Copyright © 2003 Steffany Barton


OCT 2003


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