Changing
I don’t know what made my parents begin to believe me. I don’t know if it was that night or some other. Or the things they’d seen with Donald perhaps.
But one day we stopped going to the Baptist Church every weekend and my dad began reading psychic books and researching what he could. Giving me books he found particularly helpful. Sometimes paying me to read them to further my own Education.
It was my dad that began encouraging me to pray when I saw something that scared me. To pray for peace and comfort because nothing could harm me then.
But it was hard to pray when I felt too paralyzed to think!
My dad found people for me to talk to. Including a town psychic who had a heart wrenching story of how she’d foreseen her son would die as a teenager in a car wreck. (And she was never wrong.)
My dad had been friends with her son. They grew up together. And he said that her son was an amazing driver. And he was known for doing alot of stunts in his car but no matter what the car wouldn’t roll...Wouldn’t crash.
The woman told me that because of her vision, anytime he’d go out of the house and get in his car, she’d imagine a protective bubble around his car.
But, one night after drinking with some other friends, someone asked him to drive one of his friends’ cars to take them home.
While driving his friends’ car, he drove off an embankment and they all died.
The woman was heartbroken that she should’ve put the protection around her son rather than his car.
It was an interesting lesson for me, to remember the big picture and that things are never as simple as they seem.
It gave me a sort of hope since I’d been dreaming for many years that I would die in a car wreck at twenty-eight (28).
Dad got me, my first tarot deck and I researched a long while how to use them without letting evil in. Because I knew that anytime one opens energy doors there is always the chance to invite something unsavory.
The biggest key I found was to never attempt to find guidance through the cards for bad reasons.
And always to pray before using them.
It wasn’t long before my close friends and family found that most things, my tarots revealed seemed to come true.
And that I would get an inkling that I needed to read someone when I sensed something heavy was plaguing them.
Eventually a lady my parents knew suggested that I might benefit from going to a Psychic Fair which was a gathering that people with other gifts would have so they could learn from each other and grow.
I was nervous but intrigued by the idea. My mom went with me and the lady my family had befriended had suggested they set up a booth for me to do my tarot cards. But I told the lady that I was concerned about it because I didn’t feel right about charging to give people guidance.
She asked me how much energy I thought I was putting into the cards to help people. I said I didn’t know but I was usually quite tired after doing a few sets on people. She said it was because I was offering my energy with nothing in return. She said that anytime we’re putting energy out there, as in love, we should ensure we’re getting something back.
She explained it very well and I began to understand that something should be exchanged in return for what I was giving to others. And by now, many of my friends were beginning to take advantage of what I could do and would try to ask me superficial things such as if a particular guy or girl liked them. I didn’t like answering those questions, it didn’t feel right.
There were often things that I got the sense people should or shouldn’t know. And if there was something I perceived they shouldn’t know when I was setting down cards on them then I would pick up my cards and refuse to read them.
People sometimes got mad at me and a girl that was angry with me, once began spreading around town that I was a white witch doing tarots for people.
I lived in a small town so it got around rather quickly. Fortunately I was thick skinned enough to not care when someone tried to make fun of me or cast judgements on me. I’d shrug and say “yep.” And walk away. And it seemed when they couldn’t get a rise out of me that taunting me was pointless.
But things like gossip and other people’s judgement had never really bothered me. Other than to faintly annoy me that they’d cast stones when certainly they weren’t perfect.
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