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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 |
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OCT
2003
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