People ask me if I have "had this" since I was a little girl. In 1991, I was a housewife from a suburb of a large city, married to a doctor and we had two girls ages 8 and 4. It was around the time of Son of Sam, that notorious murderer from New York City. I knew he was incarcerated, but somehow I believed he had managed to get inside my head. A male voice was talking in my head! I thought I was crazy.
The voice was not mean, he did not tell me to do crazy things nor did he paint horrendous pictures in my mind. He just started having a conversation with me much as if we were old friends talking on the phone. At no time did he ever or has he ever told me to do anything that would in any way hurt someone verbally or physically.
After a few days of hearing this voice, I got down on my knees one morning beside my blue and white bedspread and asked God to please give me a sign that what I was hearing was TRUTH. That is when I started to twitch. My head shook. A week went by. Television had not succeeded to drown out the voice. I called someone whom I thought heard voices. She was not there, but the woman who worked for her replied, "Wendy, we all hear voices!" This was a shock. Shari said it as if I were the one who was crazy. I had known Shari for a couple of months. Why would she lie to me? She would not, replied the voice. I shook.
Over the years I have pleaded for another truth sign, because sometimes people thought I must have some sort of palsy or rare disease because I shook. I continued to shake. Yet, when I heard answers to questions I thought I was making up, I was extremely thankful to have immediate confirmation. Now, besides or instead of shaking, I get chills up and down my spine. Sometimes the chills are all over my body and I feel this warm glow, as I am experiencing now.
It has been 15 years since that prayer and I can honestly say I still question and I still doubt. And that is how it should be. I never want to be totally complacent and trusting that the voices I hear are always angels, guides or someone who has passed over and it is important for them to come through with a message.
The other voices started one day while I lay in bed after having sprained my ankle. I had been helping my then 9 year old daughter's softball team warm up and I stepped the wrong way. At first I denied that I had hurt my ankle. I managed to get into the car and drive home. Within the next hour my ankle looked like I had spent 5 days sitting upright on a bus crisscrossing the country without stopping. Then the pain set in.
The Medical Center's on call doctor said, "No, I did not break anything. It was just a sprain and I was sent on my way with a cane and instructions to take it easy. Four days later I was no better. A trip to a specialist who diagnosed that it was a severe sprain said that I should stay completely off my feet for at least a week. Staying in bed for a week did not set well with my constantly in motion personality. I read and was catching up on some much needed sleep. While lying there, I started talking to my now "friend." Soon I started to hear other voices. My gift for distinguishing voices has been with me ever since I can remember. It would annoy Jr. High boys no end when they would call my house anonymously and I would say, "Oh, hi, Larry. How are you? Click.
Now this gift was really coming in handy. One voice after another would say hi and share stories with me. I started writing them down, writing furiously not wanting to miss a word. Well, I would write almost a paragraph and then another, louder voice would start to talk, drowning out the other; talking fast about what they wanted to say. Pages and pages of words dictated by voices and voices filled my notebook. It was a frantic pace. I decided to call my "teacher." She would know how to make them all stop. Her reply was, "Stop channeling." That was novel. Could I do that? She said if I told them to stop, they would stop. Something about Universal Law and that they would have to respect my wishes. Also, they would have to say if they were of the Light. Again, something about Universal Law that a voice has to identify itself and say if they were of the Light (the good guys) or of the Dark (not with the highest intensions).
This was all still so new to me. I hung up the phone perplexed and waited. The next voice I heard, I asked if it was of the Light and it replied yes. I thanked them for visiting me and said, "I want you to go". "OK," was the reply. That was easy, I thought. Foot elevated, ankle getting colder and more numb from the ice pack, the minutes clicked by as I lay there.
Another voice; who are you? Again I was gracious and thanked them for visiting and said good-bye. After awhile there were no more voices. It was as if I had told them to put my name on the DO NOT CALL list. Silence.
My ankle healed, I stuck with the familiar voice that would come in the mornings to "talk" to me. I felt that all this hearing voices in my head was OK.
