Many of you have found your way to this oasis of hope by following a trail of tears. Many of you grieve. Many of you have suffered under the heavy burden of loss. You find camaraderie here. Understanding. Unity. Friendship. Compassion.
But it doesn’t replace the son, daughter, lover, friend or sibling that is no longer here to hug, kiss or annoy. I get it. I too fight every day to stay here. Part of me, a big part, wants to flee to my son, Erik’s, side. I dream about it. I fantasize about it. And then I let it go.
Ah. But for all of you who have toyed with the idea of exiting this life early to be with a deceased loved one, I will tell you this: You’ll probably cross over and realize what an unfortunate mistake you’ve made. Not only will you want to kick your own a#%, your loved ones will line up to do the same.
You’ll discover how you’ve sabotaged your own spiritual mission as well as that of countless others, some who you’ve yet to meet on the earthly plane. You’ll think: “Silly me. I made a mess of things. If only I’d had the courage and resolve to stick it out, to keep to my role in this often caustic drama. Then, I’d come back Home with a sense of spiritual accomplishment for myself and others.”
This isn’t our true home. We are actors on a huge stage playing what roles we must to remember who and what we truly are—to spiritually evolve to but one endpoint: to become unconditional love.
In a perfect world, every path we take should be paved with love rather than fear. Of course, it doesn’t always work out that way, so if we find ourselves traveling along a road of fear, we need to stop, thank it for the lessons it had to offer, and find our way back to Love.
So how do we fill that hole in our heart that our loved one left behind? I can tell you that no litter of puppies, no fluffy kitten, no winning lottery ticket and no new car will do. That part of us is gone, but only by temporary measure.
Sometimes it helps me to think, “Sure, I want Erik back, but he was so unhappy here. His prospects for any kind of success, spiritual or otherwise, were grim.” So, I am happy for him. He is home. And I am proud of what he’s done and will continue to do for us in the Channeling Erik family.
Every hug, every kiss, every conversation I sacrifice for his own welfare and for the greater cause that he is meant to champion. That sacrifice is not an absolute, but only a postponement until the not so distant future. A blink of an eye in the grand scheme of eternity.
So, think of your loved one with pride and happiness. Imagine them as a beautiful rainbow of colors shining down on you, flowing into your soul. As it warms your heart, you can’t help but smile and find joy even in death. Take comfort in knowing that you will be reunited for all eternity. And given that time doesn’t exist, know that you are already there in their arms.
Elisa Medhus 2011