Some of you might recognise Eva Abraham’s name, she’s already posted some of her beautiful songs here on the blog and many found them inspirational, we got lots of lovely feedback. The LSM is also lucky to have her now as a chairperson, and she recently chaired a Sunday morning service at the church on March 12th, 2017. She gave words from spirit for her chairperson’s reading. A few members of the congregation asked her to send this message, so we are delighted to post it here for you all to enjoy.
Eva’s Message From Spirit
No matter how much we love each other, we always hurt each other, we hurt ourselves even when we don’t mean it. This life on earth is the fear planet of learning.
Yes, there is pain and hurt immeasurable but there is also joy and laughter immeasurable. Don’t let pain rule your heart, but learn from it’s lessons of truth of the human condition and what it means to be in a body of flesh, blood, bone, sinew and fat.
A brain that works against us many times. A brain and diction that can betray us, our thoughts, our feelings that we cannot fully express.
Let love ‘love’ through us without words, without hesitation, without seeking merit and praise, let love be our guide.
But to hear loves voice Ahh! There’s a thing ~ we clutter our thoughts, our minds with noise, distractions, fear, anything to avoid the truth. To live in truth is the hardest way initially and sometimes long-term but the rewards are boundless.
Sublime riches and glimpses and touches of heaven of spirit of light, true love of God of ones own Soul, one’s Higher Self.
Hear the Glory of God and the Choir of Angels sing One Love. Vibrate your true soul, find it’s song and then let it sing to you through you and out and around you, like a siren of Goodness and Light and above all Love.
—
Eva Abraham
LAY ME DOWN
As you lay me
On that sweet smelling grass
All my thoughts, all dreams, all my all’s
become entwined
Like an ocean meeting a river and a river meeting a stream
I become one!
With earth beneath my body and the sky resting on my face
I become one!
Breath no longer mine, heart beat no more
When you lay me down, for it is now
I will sleep the sleep of all sleeps
As you lay me down
I become one…!
By
Sonia Thomas (2008)
As well being a published poet, Sonia Thomas is an important part of the LSM, having given it many years of service. She is a healer at the church on Thursdays and if you feel you need some healing, please come along between 5-7. She also leads the Tuesday night development circle for beginners. Information on the development circles on the main LSM website page. Sonia and Mark Flanagan will also be giving a demonstration of mediumship on Wednesday 12th April at the church at 7.30pm.
Have you ever met an Angel?
Like most people, I never spent much time thinking about angels. In my mind, Angels are ancient beings, cherubs with wings who appear as if by magic to biblical characters (mostly men), like St. Paul in the Tullianum dungeon in Rome. They appeared only to those who were worthy. I never thought of them as existing in the modern world. Someone recently posed a question that got me thinking again about my own angel story…
Some years ago I bought myself a magnificent London house with a large drawing room…large enough for a baby grand piano. I had always wanted one, so one fine Spring Saturday My friend Ingrid and I trotted off to Jacques Samuel Pianos on the Edgware road.
The showroom was packed with pianos and people. The air was filled with cacophonous sounds, from children discordantly banging on the keys to adults trying out rusty chords. Bored children sprawled on the floor. Sunlight poured through the windows.
I was mesmerized. Where to begin my search? I noticed that Ingrid slipped away downstairs.
I floated through the showroom sizing up the Steinways and Bechsteins and Steinwegs. I found myself being drawn downstairs too by the sound of a masterful piano player playing what can only be described as music that sets the heart on fire. I have no idea what was being played, only that I wanted to be nearer to it.
Sitting at a grand Steinway was a tiny Asian woman with long black hair. She was at one with the music she played. I padded over to stand beside Ingrid while we watched and listened. The woman looked so small at the massive Steinway, but she commanded it fully. She finished playing, and drawing herself up, looked at us for the first time “I am going to find a piano for you” she said to me. Ingrid and I looked at each other. How did she know it was me looking?
On the way upstairs, she told us she tested the tuning on pianos for the Albert Hall before they were delivered for special events. We followed along behind her as she told us that not every piano is appropriate for every individual. The sound had to be right. She would find the right one for me. It never occurred to me at the time that she didn’t know me from a bar of soap, so how could she know which piano was the one for me? We followed along behind, lost in her magic.
She made her way through the showroom plonking down on piano stools and coaxing a few chords out of a baby grand before abruptly jumping over to the next piano. I asked her name and scribbled it on a scrap of paper in my handbag. Asked if she gave piano lessons, she said she would and gave me her telephone number.
Finally she alighted upon a Yamaha in the window. Ingrid and I watched and listened to her mastery of this little baby grand. How did she produce such a beautiful sound? After a few chords she pronounced that this was the piano for me. I was so delighted that I looked anew at this slightly worn and banged up piano and eyed the price. Not the most expensive in the store, but was it good enough? I looked around to question her, but she had vanished. Ingrid cast her eyes around the store and said she probably went back downstairs.
I resolved to find her after I bought the piano. When the transaction was completed I asked the salesman “Where’s the woman who was playing the Steinway downstairs, I’d like to thank her”. He looked confused. “I didn’t know anyone was playing downstairs” “Yes…The woman on the grand Steinway. Downstairs. A while ago. She chooses the Albert Hall pianos before you send them over.” I replied. “Sorry. We don’t have anyone like that” he replied. He questioned a few other salesmen. Blank faces. No one heard the beautiful music, nor did anyone know of the mysterious piano woman.
I felt this was a bit odd, but was comforted that at least I knew where she worked and had her number. After the piano was delivered I phoned the telephone number: the number was not in service. I quickly phoned the Albert Hall and asked for her by name: never heard of her.
At first I felt violated and fearful, fearing that some dreadful trick had been played on me. I gazed at the piano. I struck a key. It sounded full of promise.
Some months later, a friend playing at my Christmas party told me the piano had a full bodied sound that belied its size. As I looked at my guests, they were in rapture. It sounded rich and elegant in my house, bringing the whole place alive.
I dined out on the story of my piano angel. Ingrid and I spoke about it often. Could we both have been deceived? How could it be that no one else heard the music that day? Was she a ghost? Were we dreaming?
Knowing each individual has a unique ‘key’ vibration and that vibration is so important for spirit to tune in on, what my piano angel said made sense after all these years. I can understand why she had to choose the right ‘sound’ for me. But how did she know what vibration it was?
Looking back on it I wonder if my piano angel even existed in this dimension or if she was spirit made manifest just for me that day. An Angel sent down from above for one who was worthy.
Emily McLaughlin
26th February 2017
THE FORGOTTEN SONG
“Listen – perhaps you catch a hint of an ancient state not quite forgotten; dim, perhaps, and yet not altogether unfamiliar, like a song whose name is long forgotten; and the circumstances in which you heard completely unremembered. Not the whole song has stayed with you, but just a little wisp of melody, attached not to a person or a place or anything particular. But you remember, from just this little part, how lovely was the song, how wonderful the setting where you heard it, and how you loved those who were there and listened with you.
“The notes are nothing. Yet you have kept them with you, not for themselves, but as a soft reminder of what would make you weep if you remembered how dear it was to you. You could remember, yet you are afraid, believing you would lose the world you learned since then. And yet you know that nothing in the world you learned is half so dear as this. Listen, and see if you remember an ancient song you knew so long ago and held more dear than any melody you taught yourself to cherish since.
“Beyond the body, beyond the sun and stars, past everything you see and yet somehow familiar, is an arc of golden light that stretches as you look into a great and shining circle. And all the circle fills with light before your eyes. The edges of the circle disappear, and what is in it is no longer contained at all. The light expands and covers everything, extending to infinity forever shining and with no break or limit anywhere. Within it everything is joined in perfect continuity. Nor is it possible to imagine that anything could be outside, for there is nowhere that this light is not.
“This is the vision of the Son of God, whom you know well. Here is the sight of him who knows his Father. Here is the memory of what you are; a part of this, with all of it within, and joined to all as surely as all is joined in you. Accept the vision that can show you this, and not the body. You know the ancient song, and know it well. Nothing will ever be as dear to you as is this ancient hymn the Son of God sings to his Father still.”
And now the blind can see, for that same song they sing in honour of their Creator gives praise to them as well. The blindness that they made will not withstand the memory of this song. And they will look upon the vision of the Son of God, remembering who he is they sing of. What is a miracle but this remembering? And who is there in whom this memory lies not? The light in one awakens it in all. And when you see it in your brother, you are remembering for everyone.”
A COURSE IN MIRACLES
19th February 2017
The power of giving and how that energy comes back to us…
I collect stray coins left behind by people who can’t be bothered to pick them up. I view each stray coin – left on a counter or languishing in the corner of a busy market or kicked into the gutter – as a reminder of spirit. Each time I spot one, I view it as a blessing bestowed upon me from spirit, and I in turn say a prayer. Each coin has a date, the time it left mother earth and began its sojourn into the world of men. To complete the circle, I return them back to mother earth, by way of throwing them back into the ocean. There they are safe, never to be back in circulation. The cycle is complete.
Every six months I take my (weighty) bag of coins and, swimming out into the clear Turquoise waters of the Caribbean, open the bag to watch the coins flutter down to the sand below catching the sunlight as they fall. The wave action soon covers them in sand and they are safely back with mother earth after many years being knocked around in handbags, cash registers, glass jars or coin machines.
After throwing them a few days earlier, I was sitting under a tree on the beach reading when a young Frenchmen came out of the water with a large shell. I happened to overhear his conversation as he showed the shell to his friends. Then he showed them his mask “and I also found a fortune” he said as he showed them his mask filled with coins! I jumped out of my beach chair and ran over: sure enough, he had found my coins! There was that 1952 nickel, and there was that 1962 penny, the stray Euro coin I found in the airport. There was that South African Rand found in Times Square.
I pointed out the coins and told the assembled group how they came to be in the Ocean. Lucas, the young Frenchman, listened thoughtfully. He apologized for taking them and tried to give them back. I refused saying they were his now to do with as he pleased. I returned to my beach chair trying to rationalize how bothered I was about the coins being found.
10 minutes later Lucas stood over me. I looked up, squinting into the sun “I want to return the coins to the sea” he said. I was delighted. “You shall have many blessings” I replied smiling. I felt elated. Lucas turned and walked down the beach, waded into the sea, and swam out to the ‘coin zone’ where we had thrown them before. I watched how carefully he tossed them back into the ocean.
Later my friend Dee arrived for our daily swim. Lucas and his girlfriend were frolicking in the ocean. As we waded into the sea I introduced Dee to him and told her what he had done! We all shared the secret and Lucas felt delighted to have taken part in our little ritual. “Lucas is always finding things and then throwing them back in the ocean” said his girlfriend. Dee mentioned how much she loved shells- sand dollars in particular, and the fact she had one made into a sliver pendant for a necklace when she was younger.
Dee and I then swam out for our swim. Two hours later we returned to our beach chairs, and were astonished to see 6 carefully placed perfect little sand dollars placed on our beach towels. Lucas had given them to us from his stash!
The simple act of giving coins back had resonated with Lucas who felt compelled to partake in the secret ritual with us, and in turn this unleashed his generosity to give us the gift of sand dollars. We, previously only three hours before strangers, were now united in the act of giving and receiving.
We never know what events will be invoked by the simple act of giving. We gave Mother earth the currency of men, coins, and she responded by giving us the currency of the ocean: Sand dollars!
We are having them cast in silver for necklaces!
