Fears

When I was younger, I used to think of fear in terms such as "fear of heights," "fear of the dark," and "fear of the unknown." As I've grown older, I now realize there are many forms of fear. People fear lots of things...success, failure, betrayal, loving, life, death, getting hurt, being misunderstood, being alone, being in a crowd. The list is practically endless and some things we fear we can't even put into words. It's just a feeling of unease or even a feeling that keeps a person rooted, like an anchor, and can interfere with living their lives to the fullest. I've been there and done that, many, many times and just as I feel that I've overcome a fear, it seems there's always another one lurking in the wings, just ready to take the old fear's place. It's been said that there are really only two emotions, love and fear. It's recently been called to my attention that in order to overcome fear, you must love. I do love, but apparently not enough since I still experience certain fears. So what do I do? I push through those fears with the love that I do have. Perhaps in doing this, I'll come to know a deeper kind of love. What is fear, anyway? I believe that fear is a limiting thought process and that we doubt ourselves and that holds us back from going forward in our lives. Fears hold us back from realizing our true, God-given potential. Love opens those doors and lifts those limiting thoughts. We are then able to have confidence and a fulfilling life. Through love, we create and realize that so many things, including our thoughts, are limitless!

Caroline Myss, medical intuitive

A very good explaination

http://awakeningasone.com/revelations/

CURRENT MOON

moon phases

October 2009

Cindy Coleman Halloween mid 1980's

This is my friend, Cindy, when we were teenagers.  Cindy passed away Oct. 29th, 2009 after having had stage 4 breast cancer, then bone cancer.  She was diagnosed in 2001 and truly showed her strength by fighting these cancers for so many years.  It was the love she had for her kids, Tarah and Chad, that kept her going.  She didn't want to leave them alone in this world.  Cindy wanted to live long enough to see her kids graduate high school, then she wanted to see them get into colleges, and, her final wish was granted by being able to be there for her daughter, Tarah, to witness the birth of her first grandchild, Lincoln, in September 2009.  I remember she called me a couple weeks after his birth and told me what a beautiful thing it is to see a child being born.  She said, "If you ever get the chance, be there for the birth of a baby.  It's the most awesome high ever!"  I laughed and said something to the effect that I'd probably pass out!  Then she got real quiet and there was a long pause as she took in a couple long breaths.  She said, "I don't think I've got very much longer.  Maybe a few months."  We talked a bit and she said she was not scared and she was ready for all this to be over with.  I asked her if she'd had any epiphanies--any words of wisdom, any insights--to pass on.  She thought for a moment and then let out a small laugh and said, "No, only THIS IS IT?  Oh, what a joke!"  That was Cindy for you.  We talked about how she would haunt me, or how she'd let me know she'd passed, since I live in Kansas and she lived in Ohio.  I didn't think I'd be there for her passing, though I wanted to be there for her in so many ways.  I have my life here in Kansas, my husband, my sons, and my dogs, I needed to take care of and she thought death was a few months away.  I couldn't go out to Ohio indefinitely. 

Just a few days after that phone call, I got a call from my oldest sister, Jenny, a little after 1:00am.  I was so tired and just wanted to sleep.  Actually, I'd gotten extremely tired around 9:00pm, which is highly unusual for me, but was unable to sleep, so I stayed up playing computer games for a few hours.  So, there I was, just dozing off to sleep when my cell phone rang.  I answered it and Jenny asked, "Did Amy (my sister who's 2 years older than me) get hold of you?"  My answer, and I'm not kidding because I was so damned tired, was, "No...and if this is bad news, I really don't want to hear it right now."  (Yes, that is how tired I was...I just wanted to sleep and not be worried.  Please realize, my parents and 3 sisters and their families all live in Ohio...I am over 800 miles away in Kansas, so it's not like I can just hop in the car and drive around the corner and be there.)  I almost hung up after saying that, but I didn't and Jenny then told me that my dad had had another stroke.  He'd had his first one over 11 years before and it had affected his left side; he could walk, but he'd drag his left leg and his left arm muscles had atrophied and sometimes his arm would become dislocated from his shoulder.  Very sad to see such a vibrant man turned into an old man so quickly.  He depended on my mom for everything and it really began to create quite a bit of bitterness between them.  For the last few years, they argued and quarreled quite a bit.  My mom is a very strong woman, at least psychologically and emotionally, and she took on the task of caring for my dad because she loved him and couldn't bear to put him in a nursing home, though that's what the doctors and the psychologist at the hospital recommended.  But, hang on, I really have to add a bit more into the mix for you to completely get the picture of the stresses my mom was under.  My mom's mom (my grandmother) lived 5 houses down the street from my mom and dad and my mom also helped her.  Grandma was in her late 80's when my dad had his first stroke...and had knee replacement surgery when she was in her late 80's.  She was quite the woman!  She ended up passing away in Aug. 2007.  But, while I'm talking about my mom, there's still more that she did during these years.  She also babysat my younger sister's (Heather) kids, from birth on.  Heather had 2 kids, Emma, born in 2002 and Tyler born in 2007.  My mom also helped a neighbor who was in her 80's who would sometimes lose her balance and fall.  This neighbor's name is Juanita and when I'd visit her when I was back in Ohio, she'd often tell me that my mom is angel.  She really is, bless her heart!

So, now that I've caught you up on many of the dynamics of my family and friend's lives, back to Cindy.  When I came back for my grandma's funeral, (I'd been living in New Mexico at the time...we lived in Wichita, KS for 13 years, then moved to New Mexico for 2.5 years, then back to Wichita, KS in 2008) I picked Cindy up and brought her to my parent's home.  Cindy was going to be having hip replacement surgery as the cancer had eaten holes, like swiss cheese, in her hips and she and my dad were sitting on the porch comparing illnesses and pains.  We also talked of my grandma's passing and my dad said, "I'll be next, you just watch!"  Cindy said, "No, I'll be next."  And they kind of talked like that for a while.  Of course, they're right there with you and, I don't know about you, but I just can't see either one of them dying.  They were both just too full of life and orneriness.

So, I got that call from my sister, Jenny, and she tells me that dad had another stroke.  She told me I didn't need to come out immediately...the doctor's wanted to give him a couple weeks and see how he did.  I crawled back into bed and whispered to my husband, Michael, "Daddy's dying."  I wasn't trying to be overly dramatic, it's just something I knew in my heart, that my dad was dying.  That was in the early morning of October 10th.  He had fallen down a couple of steps into their sunken living room and hit his head on a thick glass end table during the evening of October 9th, 2009.  By my estimation, that would have been somewhere around the time I got to feeling incredibly tired in Kansas.  Yes, my dad and I had quite a connection.  I was up until 5:00am trying to get my flight plans squared away.  I booked the earliest flight leaving on Monday morning October 12th.

I called Cindy on that Saturday and left her a message telling her that my dad had had another stroke and that I'd be coming out to Ohio and I really wanted to see her.  She called back and left me a message and it was so sad and sweet at the same time.  She said, "Oh, Sabrina, I am soooo sorry, so very sorry, to hear about your dad.  But, I know he's not in any pain.  He's on a beach...a nudist beach and he's checking out all the beautiful women, if I know you're dad, that's where he's at!"  Then she gave a small chuckle.  I so loved her message, and saved it for as long as I could until it ended up not being saved anymore on my cell phone.  I think it only keeps messages for 2 weeks on my cell phone.

I almost always get to a point of some anxiety every time I pack for a trip, you know, thinking, "What am I forgetting?" and then wracking your brain, going over everything.  Well, this time was different.  It was spiritual, very calming.  Just as I was about to get to that anxious point, I was suddenly enveloped in an invisible hug and my spirit was lifted.  I felt an intense love, joy, and peace overcome me.  I thought, "I'm going crazy."  Then I decided to "go with it" as this was a far better feeling than anxiety.  It was during this time that I telepathically "heard"--not really a voice, but more of a knowing, if you know what I mean--my dad telling me that I was going to help him die.  I was a bit shaken at first, but he reassured me that I'd have the strength, he'd be there with me and it was okay.  I was oddly calm about it.  I accepted it.  I was at peace all throughout the flights and the travels getting to Ohio. 

When I visited my dad's hospital room on Tuesday, my sisters, Amy and Jenny, were in there and I stood at my dad's feet and just watched him resting comfortably.  I looked at my sisters and said quietly, "We have to let him go."  Jenny said, "No!  The doctors want to give him a couple weeks and see how he'll do."  I didn't argue, I just left it at that.

Dad (David Jamison) at Skyline Chili Halloween party

The next morning, my sister, Heather, my mom and I were all seated around the breakfast table and I said, calmly, to them, "We need to let dad go."  They agreed.  We talked about how dad was already miserable these last few years and how he'd been losing control of his bowels more and more often and that he wouldn't want to live like this.  If he survived, he'd have been confined to a nursing home and having his diapers changed and he'd have to depend on others to even turn him over.  Basically, this stroke affected his other half of his brain, so both lobes were blown out pretty badly.  We consulted with a nurse who got us hooked up with a palative care nurse and we all had to sign a paper stating that we all agreed to allow dad to die.  It wasn't only our decision, dad had a "living will" that stipulated that if he had to be on machines (which he was on all kinds of machines) to exist, then nutrition and water was to withheld and the machines turned off.  I am not saying it was an easy thing to do, but what scared me, and I told my mom this, was that if we gave him a couple weeks, he probably would recover somewhat...just enough that she'd be required by law to keep him alive.  I told her she had this window of opportunity right now and that maybe in two weeks, she'd have her hands tied and not be allowed to release him...release his spirit to God. 

While Dad was still in the hospital, my sister, Heather woke up one morning and smelled cigarette smoke on her hand.  Heather doesn't smoke and doesn't allow others to smoke in her house.  As she got up to go use the bathroom, she was passing by her son's (Tyler) room and he was almost 2 years old at the time and was standing in his crib talking--as only young children can talk, not making much sense--to someone.  Heather went in and picked him up and his hair smelled of cigarette smoke.  She asked him, "Were you talking to Dad Dad?"  That's what he called grandpa.  He brightened up and said, "Yeah, Dad Dad!  Dad Dad!"  I do believe that our souls/spirits can travel even while we're still "alive."  I think this is proof of that, too!  What an awesome experience.  My dad just doted on little Tyler and loved him so much.  And, yes, Dad smoked.

And, another metaphysical-type story from my sister, Jenny, and her husband, Scott.  As they were wheeling my dad from the emergency room to the ICU, he made eye contact with each of them.  Jenny knew what he was trying to communicate and "heard" it within her head.  She didn't say anything to any one, until later when she and Scott got home.  Scott said, "I know what your dad was saying."  And described the exact spot where Jenny picked up on the telepathic message, too.  Jenny asked him what he thought he'd "said."  Scott said, "He was telling me to take care of his family."  Jenny was amazed because that's what she "heard" too.

After the machines were turned off and the tubes taken out, he lived a few more days.  They sent him to Hospice of Dayton for the remaining time.  I believe he went in there on a Monday and ended up dying on Friday, October 23rd, 2009.  Hospice of Dayton is a truly beautiful place.  Very peaceful and calming.  The week before had been such a rollercoaster ride with all the emotional stress.  Once we got him in Hospice, I found it to be such a gift.  We all took turns sitting at his bedside, holding his hands, caressing his arms and face, swabbing his mouth with water and lavishing kisses on him.  We talked to him. 

I remember stroking his cheek, he had such beautiful skin, so soft and I reached over and kissed him on his cheek and I said, "I thank you, Lord, and I thank you, Daddy, for giving us this extra time to be with Dad.  To let him know how much we love him.  To be able to stroke him and kiss him without him pulling away.  I give my thanks for this beautiful, bittersweet moment."  I looked down and a tear had slid down the side of his face.  His eyes were still closed; he was in a coma of sorts, but I know he heard me and felt emotions.  See, the crazy thing about him shedding a tear for me is that the nurse had put a patch behind his ear that was to dry up all bodily fluids.  Then, the next day, my mom and I were at his bedside and I told her of the tear and as we were talking about that, my mom noticed another tear pooling between his eye and his nose.  Again, we took this as a sign that he could hear us.  I love my Daddy so much and just can not express what a wonderful gift that he gave to all of us in allowing us to be there for him as he left this world.  You could compare it to someone being killed in a wreck or a fire...that's very sudden and you don't get the extra days or hours to sit with them and tell them you love them, or tell them you're sorry, or that you forgive them.  So, while this was bittersweet in letting him go, it was also a beautiful time that I will forever be grateful for. 

And, now I see that I was instrumental in helping him to die.

While Dad was in the hospital, there were two times that I felt a "pluck," like a chord being plucked from me.  One was near my heart chakra, the other I'm not sure where exactly, but I know I felt it.  I called a friend of mine, Liz, in California who's very intuitive and really into metaphysical things.  I told her about the plucking sensation.  She listened and then paused and said, "You'll experience one more time before he goes."  We discussed other aspects of this and she gave me uplifting words of encouragement.  One of the things she'd said was, "God doesn't allow any negativity in Heaven, so your dad will go through periods of hot and cold as any negativity is transmuted to positive energy.  But he's releasing the invisible chords that bind you to him and you'll feel it one last time."  Sure enough, I did, too!  My mom and I had just gotten home from visiting with him in Hospice around midnight and I was changing for bed when I not only felt a "pluck" but also heard it!  It sounded like a very taut wired does...kind of a "twang."  It came from my forehead, around the "third-eye" chakra.  We were awakened shortly after 3:00am by my nephew, Josh, who'd spent nearly every night at my dad's bedside, telling us that Grandpa had just died.  We drove back in and said our last good-byes (until the funeral) as he lay, open-eyed, sightlessly staring and at peace.  I've often wondered what he last vision was?  Was it an Angel of Light?  Was it God?  I will say that while we were in there, I'd sometimes see elongated triangles of light at various times and wondered if I was sensing spirits or angels.  I mentioned this to one of the nurses and she said they have a woman who works there who oftens sees the things I was describing.  Very cool, indeed.

Also, just a little over a month before my dad's fall, two of his long-time neighbors, Troy Conley and Richard Goetz, had died within a couple weeks of each other.  They'd all lived there for around 50 or so years.  It is a very old, stable neighborhood.  I'd told my Aunt Patty (my mom's sister) that if it (death) was triangulating, Dad was next.  Then, just a couple weeks after I'd said that, Dad took his fall down the two stairs.  Very odd, but they do say bad things happen in threes!

The whole time I was back in Ohio, I'd been trying to call Cindy and her voice mailbox was full and she wasn't answering.  Around 10:00am, just a few hours after losing my dad, I finally called Cindy's mom, who thankfully still had the same phone number as when we were teenagers...and I remembered it after all these years.  I'm strange like that, I remember numbers so easily.  I told her that I was in town and had been trying to reach Cindy but couldn't get an answer  "Is she okay?"  I asked.  Phyllis, Cindy's mom, sighed and said, "No, honey, she's not okay.  Her kidneys have failed, she's in Riverside Methodist Hospital in Columbus and she's not coming out."  I then told her I'd just lost my dad earlier that morning and this all just sucked!  I jotted down Cindy's hospital and room number and called my lifelong friend, Lisa, who happened to have Friday's off due to the economy and budget cuts.  I begged her to take me the hour drive to Columbus.  I told her dad had died and I didn't think anyone around here would feel up to the drive.  I promised to pay for gas and buy her lunch and that she wouldn't have to go into the hospital.  I just wanted a few minutes to say good-bye to my friend I'd known for nearly 30 years.  Lisa is very uncomfortable with hospitals and death.  She took me, bless her heart. 

When I got off the elevators, Cindy's room was right across the hall, but I didn't notice the room number and headed to the nurses station.  As I got there, my cell phone rang and I looked at the caller id and it read, "Cindy's Cell."  For a moment I felt like I was in the Twilight Zone.  How could Cindy be calling me?  Her mom had said they had her on some pretty strong medications and she was in a coma.  I answered and it was her daughter, Tarah, telling me that she'd just gotten her mom's phone and Cindy was in the hospital.  I told her, "I know...I'm here!  I here, Tarah, I'm at the hospital."  Tarah was a bit freaked out at that, as she thought I was in Kansas.  So, I got to visit with Cindy's brother, Danny (who I'd known since I was 13) and her son, Chad, and Tarah.  I got to meet Lincoln, who was only a month old.  He's a handsome little guy.  Cindy was literally skin and bones and looked so frail and tiny in the hospital bed.  I leaned over and gave her a kiss on the cheek and wished her well.  I really don't know my exact words; it was a very tough day for me, as you might expect.  I do remember talking to them about the conversation my dad and Cindy had had a couple of years before about how they kind of argued who was going to be the next to go.  Cindy died six days after my dad, on October 29th, 2009. 

My husband and sons drove out for my dad's funeral and to bring me back home and I was not able to stay long enough for Cindy's funeral.  I did buy her some lovely flowers and dropped them off at her mom's house.  Interestingly enough about when I dropped off the flowers, it was a bit windy and no one was home and I really didn't want to risk the glass vase falling over and breaking.  I tried the door and it was unlocked.  I went inside and placed the flowers on the kitchen table and left a quick note for Phyllis.  I later talked to her and she said, "That was so strange, we always lock the door!  I guess God knew you needed for it to be open!"  Pretty cool.

On the morning after Cindy died (I didn't get told until later in the day, so I didn't know at the time that she'd died), I woke up and couldn't find my glasses and I knew exactly where I'd left them.  There was a little end table as you entered the room I was staying at my mom's and I'd put them there the night before.  I'd known I had put them there because they fell off and landed in my stinky shoes and I picked them out and placed them back on the end table, thinking, "Oh, great, now I'm going to have stinky eye!"  When I woke up the next morning, I couldn't find my glasses.  I finally found them under some fake flowers on bottoms shelf of the nightstand beside my bed.  I later realized it must have been Cindy playing a trick on me as she left this world.  What better way to get someone's attention than to mess with their glasses?  I couldn't focus on a damn thing until I got those on!

Well, I will leave off here, but there is plenty more to come!  Take care!

Sabrina

Hello. Welcome to The Agape Warrior. The name comes from a youth group I was involved in at church when I was a teenager (roughly 30 years ago...seems like just yesterday), we called ourselves The Agape Warriors. We even had t-shirts made that were really cool! They looked like the kind of t-shirts you get at rock concerts that had "Agape Warriors" emblazoned across them.

Agape means "unconditional love." There are numerous definitions for it, such as "Love that is spiritual, not sexual, in nature." But essentially, it means not placing any conditions on loving. Sounds simple enough, yet it seems the majority of people have difficulty with this.

This is my blog and I hope to share some of my life's experiences with you, as well as help you to understand about Agape Love. Thank you for taking the time and visiting The Agape Warrior.

Sabrina