A change of heart for ghosts of deceased Francescan monks…

6 01 2013

Just before Christmas we were invited by friends to their home for a fabulous meal and along the way met some complete strangers, one of whom had heard that I was her hostess’s ‘psychic’ friend. I must say my heart sank as I get little rest from helping lost souls wherever I go and was in great need of some respite and just a good old fashioned chinwag for a change!  She graciously agreed to change the subject but it was too late.  I had ‘switched on’ my psychic faculty for just a few moments and as she started chatting to me about ‘normal’ things I ‘saw’ children circling her, bouncing balls then holding hands, singing ‘ring a ring a roses’.  This song is associated with the plague and I knew I had some work to do but would leave it until later…

In the meantime, another local man had joined us and was healthily sceptic when the lady told him what I get up to in my day (and night) job.  As soon as I looked at him I felt a presence but resisted saying anything.  I was picking up Frances….then Francescan….and after a lot off pressure to say something I DID.  ‘That’s extraordinary,” he said.  “My home is actually built on the grounds of old Francescan Monestary.”

“Well there you go!” was all I could say, knowing that the site was haunted by several lost souls and I just had to sort it – if only to get some peace and enjoy the rest of the afternoon as I was starting to get fortification spectrum, the visual side of a migraine attack – usually a result of overwork on the spiritual plane.  I scuttled into the privacy of the loo and took off my necklace to use as a dowser.  Immediately, three Franscescan monks came through and told me in no uncertain words that what I was doing was  tantamount to ‘witchcraft’ so, with respect to them (they didn’t seem to realise that they themselves were trapped spirits) I decided to leave my rescue work  at the Monestary until later.   However, I was able to help several other lost souls from the village and surrounding area and especially children lost in the plague of another century.

Once home, I tuned in again to the Francescan Monestary and was again told ‘you were going to stay away from here!’ by the ghostly monks, who were no doubt protecting other lost souls from my wicked ways!  I remained humble and asked politely if they would allow me to  speak to the lost ones and show them what I could do to help.  After a conflab they told me  “The door is open,”  and I saw a large arch shaped and heavy wooden door slowly open.  Immediately, 22 lost souls flew out and rushed into the light through the vortex I was able to offer them.  The three monks were , in modern terms, ‘gobsmacked’ and said ‘Thank you Jane.  You have been wronged and we apologise sincerely’ and they themselves shot off, given the opportunity.  They had been keeping those lost souls in a place of safety (the Monestary) after they themselves had remained earthbound after their own deaths.  The safehouse had included those lost in the plague, the Civil War and even those who died of ‘longevity’ but didn’t pass.  A very satisfying afternoon’s work which amounted to 96 souls rescued, including children of the plague who had dwelt in the curious lady’s cottage until that day.


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