The woman was trembling and she said, “Are you not afraid? This may be our last moment of life! IT DOESN’T SEEM THAT WE WILL BE ABLE TO REACH THE OTHER SHORE. Only some miracle can save us, otherwise death is certain. Are you not afraid? Are you mad or something? Are you a stone or something?”

THE MAN LAUGHED AND TOOK THE SWORD OUT OF ITS SHEATH. The woman was even more puzzled — what is he doing? Then he brought the naked sword close to the woman's neck — so close that just a small gap was there, it was almost touching her neck.

He said, “ARE YOU AFRAID?”

She started to giggle and laugh and said, “WHY SHOULD I BE AFRAID? If the sword is in your hands, why should I be afraid? I know you love me.”

He put the sword back and said, “This is my answer. I know God loves me, and the sword is in His hands, and the storm is in His hands — so WHATSOEVER IS GOING TO HAPPEN IS GOING TO BE GOOD. If we survive, good; if we don’t survive, good — because EVERYTHING IS IN HIS HANDS, AND HE CANNOT DO ANYTHING WRONG.”

From OSHO: The Rainbow Bridge

The post The Sword Is In His Hands – A Spiritual Story by Osho appeared first on Spiritual Growth Events.

The Seer of Lublin was one of the most famous and formidable of the Hassidic Rabbis at the end of the 18th century. His greatest disciple (who had exactly the same name as his master) was called the Yehudi in Lublin, and the Holy Yehudi everywhere else. The two Rabbis loved each other very much, although they suffered many heartaches due to rivalries among their own disciples, especially those in Lublin. The Seer, as his appellation indicates, was a visionary who was interested in large movements and long term developments. The Holy Yehudi was a humble saint, famous for the power of his worship of God, who developed a reputation (which he always denied) as a healer of souls.

The Seer's wife Beile, often overheard the gossip and slanders of the Seer's disciples and began to believe what she had heard. When her young child fell ill she feared it was an evil eye from the Yehudi. Beile begged her husband to pray for the child's recovery. He replied, “You know to whom you must turn.” meaning God. But perhaps because she felt guilty about the slanders she overheard and, like her husband, had failed to rebuke, Beile decided to go to Pshysha, where the Holy Yehudi held his court. She begged him to forgive her sins against him and to pray for her son's recovery. The Holy Yehudi was struck dumb that the Seer's wife could think he would wish her or her child ill; and he sobbed for a few minuets. Finally he told her, “I will pray without ceasing.” Being generally naive, he neglected to tell her that he forgave her. When Beile returned home her son was dying.

What the Seer and his wife concluded from all this no one knows. But some weeks later, the Yehudi's son, who was almost 12, now fell ill. At first, it did not seem serious, but then it got worse. His mother Schoendel, cried hysterically for days. Once the told her husband, “This is their vengeance!” The Yehudi replied, “Don't go to pieces!” She gave all that she had to charity, but the boy only got worse. Then something extraordinary happened.

Rabbi Yissachar Baer come to visit. The Yehudi took him by the hand to the bed where Asher his son lay moaning. The Holy Yehudi said, “I am at the end of my strength. I can pray no more. Take him upon yourself and you will surely give him back to me healed.” With that he took his sobbing wife and left the room.

Rabbi Yissachar Baer was dismayed. He had never practiced healing; and he was sure he was not a holy man. But Rabbi Baer was a man of peace; and he knew that one of his teachers, the Maggid of Kosnitz, had on several occasions tried, with some success, to reduce the Seer's suspicions and tensions with the Yehudi. He thought Asher would be old enough to understand the nature of his illness.

“I am just an ordinary Rabbi; I am not a holy man like your father, or a great mystic like the Seer, or even a wise sage like the Maggid of Kosnitz. Every year I visit each of them for a few weeks, to learn and be inspired. Each of them is different, and their disciples are different. Their Torah is one Torah, but they teach it differently. Their Shabbat is on the same day, but they celebrate it in different ways. Each congregation says the Sh'ma but they sing it with different melodies. They do not even eat the same food. Some of the Seer's disciples like Rabbi Meir, who is a leader of those who oppose everything your father does, are narrow minded and resistant to change. Other disciples are fearful of competition, and resent those who have come to your father instead of their own Rabbi, the Seer. But I tell you that I learn from each one of them, and each of them speak the words of the living God. No one anywhere wishes you ill. A Jew, no matter how pious, learned or Kosher he is, who slanders another Jew, is a Jew hater and not a real Jew. ”

Asher harkened to the words of Rabbi Baer and he began to feel better. Neither of them ever spoke about what had happened that day in that room. Rabbi Baer suggested to the Yehudi that Asher should live for a few months with the Maggid of Kosnitz until he fully recovered; and he did. Rabbi Baer also talked to the Seer and the Seer instructed Rabbi Meir to say a prayer every day for the long life of the Yehudi. And Rabbi Baer, much to his surprise, found that the story of his miracle cure spread, and many people with wounded souls came to him. Thank God he was able to help many of them.

Every year when he visited the three great Rabbis, he always told the disciples of the Seer, the Maggid and the Holy Yehudi, that self-righteousness, gossip, and slander cause an illness of the soul that can lead to death.

From: FOR THE SAKE OF HEAVEN by Martin Buber pp. 205-210

Rabbi Maller's web site is: rabbimaller.com

The post An Illness unto Death – A Spiritual Story By Rabbi Allen Maller appeared first on Spiritual Growth Events.

The heavy handed specialist gave us no hope at all. There was nothing they could do, he informed us. He thought John had a year at the outside.

I went home and in a kind of timeless pause where the infinite and the material meet, I decided that if I believed the doctors, John would feel it in my milk and would give up.

Who wouldn't?

I saw the choice not to believe them and instead to put my faith in John. Maybe I could fuel his decision to live.

All that hugely powerful, maternal passion went into this decision. I willed him to get better. I held him. I nursed him. I loved him with my full being. I realized that before when I had loved people, I had loved them with about 10 per cent of my being. John got 100 percent and I got a lesson in what love really is.

We needed a miracle here and I received several. First, my dad came in behind me, believing too, that John would live. He was the one person who stood with me, trusting in something intangible when the obvious data pointed the other way. (Others tended to think I was just in denial…)

The miracle of it was that while growing up, my father had caused me enormous pain. So for him to come alongside me at this time, in a place so deep in our hearts, was a Godsend.

Another miracle was more of a sequence.

It started when two pictures of John fell off the wall and the glass inside both of them broke. A few days later, one of his Peter Rabit plates fell and smashed. Then, very soon after that, a small child came over and while her mother and I were talking, the little girl got a hammer and crushed a beloved music box I had bought for John.

I had bought the box at the onset of John's illness to cheer us all up. It had turned into a symbol of eventual triumph.

And now it was smashed. And so fragile was my faith that its demise smashed our lives too. The bottom just fell out.

Life now just seemed so stark and unloving. God just seemed like a bad joke. I could barely stand to be alive, could hardly bare the agony of it. The only thing that kept me going was John who needed my love, hugs and adoration and I gave myself to him 100 per cent.

Even if God didn't exist, I could still believe John was going to get better. If the Great Spirit's love didn't exist, at least mine did.

It took me several weeks to feel my love strong again. I was still scared and things looked stark but my love flowed utterly to John. Then one day, I had to go to the store. Depressed and worried though I was, I followed an unusual impulse into a nearby gift shop.

There on a shelf was a single music box, identical to the other one. That was truly amazing as I had bought it overseas. And don't you know it was on sale at half price!

I bought it. I took it as a signal of the Great Spirit's assurance that the child would live which he did, despite such a terminal diagnosis.

(Maybe doctors should ask mothers what they think more.)

This brings me to the third and biggest miracle of all. Two days after I had made that crucial decision to ignore the doctor's death sentence, my mother, plus an incredible series of coincidences, put me in touch with a famous healer named Olgas Worral.

Olga Worral, then a woman in her 80's, had once lost her infant twins to dysentery and now worked with sick children, sending compassion to ailing youngsters all over the world. We spoke. Olga asked for no payment. Nor did she need to touch or meet John to help. She just needed to know his full name. Then she asked me to put my hands on him every night at 7pm to ground the compassion she was sending.

I knew Olga was gold.

The cancer clinic monitored John's white cell count, checking him once every two weeks. We had watched it climb steadily.

When John was 10 months, it hit 60,000, six times higher than normal. The cell count left his skin so white, it was almost transparent. He hardly moved or made any noise. He was a sick baby.

We started working with Olga. The next checkup showed the count had dropped by 1,000 and that John had gained a pound in weight. The time after that, his blood count fell another 1,500 and he had gained another pound.

This continued. Gradually over the next three years, John's white blood cell count fell to normal and he began to grow and flourish.

The doctors didn't say much.

I phoned Olga regularly to thank her and heard that people seldom let her know how their loved ones fared. Sometimes they'd phone up three years later.

‘Thanks for helping Uncle Bill. He's fully recovered.. Can you help Aunt Sara now?'

She would.

Much later, after Olga had died, I read an article in which she'd participated in an experiment which featured an dysentery culture and penicillin. When she spent time in a laboratory, maybe an hour or so a day, the penicillin took 10 times as long to kill the bacteria as usual.

I think Olga embodied so much of her own godself, her mere presence strengthened all of life, even the dysentery bacteria.

But what impressed me was that when she gazed into the petri dish, at the same type of bacteria, that had killed her children some 50 years earlier, her capacity for unconditiional love was so strong, her comment was:

Cute little critters, aren't they?

My hat off to her.

After spending her 20's as a journalist, publishing in Canada, the US and in Europe, Janet Hobbs' life changed when her son experienced a miraculous healing from terminal Leukemia. This experience sent her on the path of healing and study with aboriginal and East Indian spiritual masters. For the last 15 years, Janet has had a Shamanic healing practice in Vancouver and the interior of BC. Clients report emotional and physical healings.

Visit her website at http://thecompassionateshaman.com/ to learn more.

The post The Roller Coaster of Life – Spiritual Story by Janet Hobbs appeared first on Spiritual Growth Events.

You're a Christian, aren't you, son?

Yes sir, the student says.

So you believe in God?

Absolutely.

Is God good?

Sure! God's good, and I will Keep The Faith.

Is God all-powerful? Can God do anything?

Yes.

Are you good or evil?

The Bible says I'm evil.

The professor grins knowingly. Aha! The Bible! He considers for a moment. Here's one for you. Let's say there's a sick person over here and you can cure him. You can do it. Would you help them? Would you try?

Yes sir, I would.

So you're good…!

I wouldn't say that.

But why not say that? You'd help a sick and maimed person if you could. Most of us would if we could. But God doesn't.

The student does not answer, so the professor continues. He doesn't, does he? My brother was a Christian who died of cancer, even though he prayed to Jesus to heal him. How is this Jesus good? Hmmm? Can you answer that one?

The student remains silent.

No, you can't, can you? the professor says. He takes a sip of water from a glass on his desk to give the student time to relax.

Let's start again, young fella. Is God good?

Er… Yes, the student says.

Is Satan good?

The student doesn't hesitate on this one. No.

Then where does Satan come from?

The student falters. From… God…

That's right. God made Satan, didn't he? Tell me, son. Is there evil in this world?

Yes, sir.

Evil's everywhere, isn't it? And God did make everything correct?

Yes.

So who created evil?

Again, the student has no answer.

Is there sickness? Immorality? Hatred? Ugliness. All these terrible things, do they exist in this world?

The student squirms on his feet. Yes.

So who created them?

The student does not answer again, so the professor repeats his question, Who created them?

There is still no answer. Suddenly the lecturer breaks away to pace in front of the classroom. The class is mesmerized.

Tell me, he continues. Do you believe in Jesus Christ, son?

The student's voice betrays him and cracks. Yes, professor. I do.

The old man stops pacing. Science says you have five senses you use to identify and observe the world around you. Have you ever seen Jesus?

No sir. I've never seen Him.

Then tell us if you've ever heard your Jesus?

No, sir. I have not.

Have you ever felt your Jesus, tasted your Jesus or smelt your Jesus? Have you ever had any sensory perception of Jesus Christ, or God for that matter.

No, sir, I'm afraid I haven't.

Yet you still believe in him?

Yes.

According to the rules of empirical, testable, demonstrable protocol, science says your God doesn't exist. What do you say to that son?

Nothing, the student replies. I only have my faith.

Yes, faith, the professor repeats. And that is the problem science has with God. There is no evidence, only faith.

The student stands quietly for a moment, before asking a question of his own.

Professor, is there such thing as heat?

Yes, the professor replies. There's heat.

And is there such a thing as cold?

Yes, son, there's cold too.

No sir, there isn't.

The professor turns to face the student, obviously interested. The room suddenly becomes very quiet. The student begins to explain.

You can have lots of heat, even more heat, super-heat, mega-heat, white heat, a little heat or no heat, but we don't have anything called ‘cold'. We can hit 458 degrees below zero, which is no heat, but we can't go any further after that. There is no such thing as cold; otherwise we would be able to go colder than – 458 degrees. You see, sir, cold is only a word we use to describe the absence of heat. We cannot measure cold. Heat we can measure in thermal units because heat is energy. Cold is not the opposite of heat, sir, just the absence of it.

Silence across the room. A pen drops somewhere in the classroom, sounding like a hammer.

What about darkness, professor. Is there such a thing as darkness?

Yes, the professor replies without hesitation. What is night if it isn't darkness?

You're wrong again, sir. Darkness is not something; it is the absence of something. You can have low light, normal light, bright light, flashing light… but if you have no light constantly you have nothing and it's called darkness, isn't it? That's the meaning we use to define the word. In reality, darkness isn't. If it were, you would be able to make darkness darker, wouldn't you?

The professor begins to smile at the student in front of him. This will be a good semester.

So what point are you making, young man?

Yes, professor. My point is, your philosophical premise is flawed to start with and so your conclusion must also be flawed.

The professor's face cannot hide his surprise this time. Flawed? Can you explain how?

You are working on the premise of duality, the student explains. You argue that there is life and then there's death; a good God and a bad God. You are viewing the concept of God as something finite, something we can measure. Sir, science can't even explain a thought. It uses electricity and magnetism, but has never seen, much less fully understood either one. To view death as the opposite of life is to be ignorant of the fact that death cannot exist as a substantive thing. Death is not the opposite of life, just the absence of it. Now tell me, professor. Do you teach your students that they evolved from a monkey?

If you are referring to the natural evolutionary process, young man, yes, of course I do.

Have you ever observed evolution with your own eyes, sir?

The professor begins to shake his head, still smiling, as he realizes where the argument is going. A very good semester indeed.

Since no one has ever observed the process of evolution at work and cannot even prove that this process is an on-going endeavor, are you not teaching your opinion, sir? Are you now not a scientist, but a preacher?

The class is in uproar. The student remains silent until the commotion has subsided.

To continue the point you were making earlier, let me give you an example of what I mean? The student looks around the room.

Is there anyone in the class who has ever seen the professor's brain?

The class breaks out into laughter.

Is there anyone here who has ever heard the professor's brain, felt the professor's brain, touched or smelt the professor's brain? No one appears to have done so. So, according to the established rules of empirical, stable, demonstrable protocol, science says that you have no brain, with all due respect, sir.

So if science says you have no brain, how can we trust your lectures, sir?

Now the room is silent. The professor just stares at the student, his face unreadable.

Finally, after what seems an eternity, the old man answers. I guess you'll have to take them on faith.

The author of this spiritual story is unknown and greatly appreciated.

The post Keep The Faith – A Christian Spiritual Story appeared first on Spiritual Growth Events.

It was like going from believing the earth to be flat to it being a sphere.

James demonstrates that the soul survives the dimensions of time and space.

Soul Survivor is that story-period!!

As a Christian the story challenged my faith in every way that faith can be challenged — the journey of discovery was a fearful one — the destination of fact affirmed it. Soul Survivor suggests the answer to our salvation and redemption that Christians chase throughout this life on earth. Other than the acceptance of Jesus Christ as my Savior — this experience is the most profound of my life.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Bruce had staged a fighting retreat from the wild conjectures over the meaning of his son's nightmares. He had dug in and insisted that, whatever they were, they were not proof of a past life. Yet, he had lost the battle over the name, Natoma Bay — it was an American ship, not Japanese. Jack Larson turned out to be a real person who flew off of a real aircraft carrier. The knowledge his son had of airplanes and flying was uncanny; the battles in the Pacific were real and the veterans vouched for the details. Finally, he had to accept that James Huston was the pilot who was killed in his son's horrific nightmares.

Still, he had held out over the fact that James insisted that he flew a Corsair in the war and no Corsairs were reported on Natoma Bay. And now that last bunker had fallen. He had the picture of James Huston standing in front of a Corsair.

He was starting to believe in something beyond reason.

I was baptized and raised as a Methodist. I grew up going to church every Sunday with my mother and sister. My father had very little to do with church. Church is a place that makes me feel comfortable, safe, welcome.

In college, my attendance slipped, but I went to church with friends of different denominations — to see what they were like. I went to Buddhist Temples, Catholic cathedrals, Lutheran, Pentacostal, Episcopalian . . . most of the other Protestant churches. I even went to Synagogues.

But as I matured, I became connected to the Evangelical Christian movement, eventually finding myself involved with a Full Gospel Christian Businessman's Fellowship.

We met every two weeks for Bible study, discussion and trying to assimilate the Word into our lives. It was a dramatic journey. I studied the Bible intensely. The Holy Spirit was demonstrated for me in praying in Tongues, Faith Healing and what we call Discernment.

I have witnessed Healings that I know were genuine.

I have personally realized the true power of Prayer. I prayed for a second chance after my first marriage failed because I was spiritually lost. I prayed for a wife with green eyes — and one who was Asian — and my second wife, Dre, has green eyes and her mother is one half Philippino.

Suffice to say that I feel I am a developed Christian on a continuous path of spiritual growth.

If James' nightmares were truly a manifestation of a past life — a proof of reincarnation — then, as I saw it, it would threaten the Biblical promise of Salvation. If the immortal soul can randomly transfer from person to person, generation to generation, then what does that imply for the Christian orthodoxy of Redemption?What happens on Judgment Day if the immortal soul is handed off like that? It goes against the Evangelical teaching of rebirth through a spiritually transformed personal life through Jesus Christ.

The impact of James's story on my spiritual well-being . . . well, it felt like spiritual warfare. My purpose for disproving what was happening to my son was to establish that this was all a coincidence — as astronomically remote as that possibility seems.

Of course, I was drawn into this by setting up these tests, establishing questions that had to be answered, all the while, I was getting closer and closer to something . . . dangerous . . . it was like putting my hand in a fire . . . ¹
One may put their hand into a fire and in time it would heal — but ferreting out answers that could threaten a complete belief system was scary.

I was traveling a strange road lost in the fog searching for an unknown destination. The questions were simple — but the answers could destroy my lifelong beliefs and threaten my salvation. During the journey there were plenty of times I wanted to stop — but a voice of compulsion drove me forward. My effort centered on my love and concern for my son. When I first encountered the full force of his nightmares a movie “The Exorcist” hit me square in the face.

James might be demon possessed! With every step of validation about what he told us the fog began to lift and the destination became clearly visible.

James had experienced a past life and/or reincarnation had occurred — the exact conclusion I did not want to accept. It took time as I measured the fruit that this tree of experience produced.

In the end Faith and Fact collided like atoms in an atomic accelerator to form a new reality. It was like going from believing the earth to be flat to it being a sphere. James demonstrated the soul survives the dimensions of time and space.

As a Christian the story challenged my faith in every way that faith can be challenged. “Soul Survivor” suggests the answer to our yearning for salvation and redemption that Christians chase throughout their life on earth. Other than the acceptance of Jesus Christ as my Savior — this experience is the most profound of my life. “Soul Survivor” is that story-period!! It left me with many unanswered questions that involve how and why.
Endnotes
¹The above is an excerpt from the book Soul Survivor: The Reincarnation of a World War II Fighter Pilot by Bruce and Andrea Leininger with Ken Gross. The above excerpt is a digitally scanned reproduction of text from print. Although this excerpt has been proofread, occasional errors may appear due to the scanning process. Please refer to the finished book for accuracy.
Copyright © 2009 Bruce and Andrea Leininger with Ken Gross, authors of Soul Survivor: The Reincarnation of a World War II Fighter Pilot

©2009 Bruce Leininger, coauthor of Soul Survivor: The Reincarnation of a World War II Fighter Pilot

The post The Collision of Faith and Fact – Spiritual Story by Bruce Leininger appeared first on Spiritual Growth Events.

As I slowly took three steps away from the guitar, heading for the cash register, I found there was a palpable force of attraction between me and the guitar that brought me racing quickly back to embrace it again. I then carried this beautiful instrument with me around the store, confidant that “This is the guitar for me!” because it just FELT right.

Synchronistically, just a few days earlier I'd completed writing a piece for the September 2000 issue of Planet Lightworker online magazine called, “Recognizing Gifts”. I could see that I must have really written that article for myself, since I needed to learn and master the art of recognizing when a wish or prayer was coming true. Also synchronistically, just a couple of days after writing the article about recognizing gifts, and two days prior to seeing this guitar, I had consulted an Excellent Online Oracle for advice, and received the reply from the Odyssey of Life Oracle:

“A miracle is soon to occur in your presence.
Your challenge is to recognize it.”

In so many ways in my life, I suddenly saw how I have danced around the razor's edge of self-doubt. I have cut myself down to size before anyone else could do it, consistently making sure that others needs are tended to first, with little thought for myself.

Just a week earlier, I had visited Disneyland with my daughters, and we were walking through the New Orleans Square section when two men began tossing Mardi Gras necklaces out to the crowd. I made sure that both my daughters received these pretty beads by catching the eye of the man throwing the necklaces and pointing down at my daughters standing in front of me. Both times I did this, the man quickly threw a necklace directly to my daughter, and I helped her catch it. I walked away from the crowd with my daughters, telling them how glad I was to have gotten them such pretty necklaces, even though I didn't get one for myself.

“Why not, Mom?”

My older daughter, looking genuinely concerned for me.

“Because I don't want to take the beads that someone else might really want.”

Suddenly I heard what I had just said, and was flabbergasted. Did this mean that I have been passing by on countless opportunities because I didn't want to take something that another person might really enjoy? Does that mean I'm afraid that there is only a finite amount of what we all need in this world — and if so, what does that say about my faith? These questions helped me crystallize an awareness of some hidden beliefs I'd been living with without ever recognizing.

Yesterday in the thrift shop, I almost did it again… I almost walked away from what my heart desired. This time, however, the sweet spirit of the guitar connected with me so tangibly that I could not bear to walk more than three feet away from it. I couldn't bear the idea of setting it down, and when I picked it up I felt such a warm rush of joy and love!

I realized with a jolt that this guitar had not been in the store when I first walked in. I knew this for a fact, because I'd been carefully examining a curious wooden cabinet adjacent to the guitar, and I know I would have seen a guitar sitting so close nearby!

This guitar brings me a great gift. It shows me how I can accept gifts I truly need without fear of preventing someone else from having something good. This fear is ridiculous, for it would mean that this universe is not truly abundant, and that we are not all cooperating together at a very deep unconscious spiritual level.

As I waited in line to buy my gorgeous new instrument, a woman behind me in line asked with genuine interest, “Did you get a good deal on the guitar?” I beamed back with my brightest smile, my eyes shining with radiant ecstasy as I replied, “Oh, yes!”

Cynthia Sue Larson helps people tap into the extraordinary powers that lie within them to create their best lives and find out how good it can get by transforming from accidental manifestors into conscious reality shifters.

Her popular ezine, RealityShifters News, is eagerly awaited each month by more than 4,500 subscribers world-wide. Cynthia provides Spiritual Life Coaching through telephone consultations on a regular basis for people seeking to more fully develop their energy fields and better understand how best to utilize their divine gifts. She has taught numerous aura workshops, spoken at several conferences, and had articles published in several spiritual and metaphysical printed magazines.

The post Learning to Accept Miracles – A Spiritual Story by Cynthia Sue Larson appeared first on Spiritual Growth Events.

Forty plus years later, I paced my living room wearing my team ball cap, completely consumed in an emotional frenzy of indescribable proportion. It was the prefect scenario. Many, if not most of us have experienced it. If in these final minutes and seconds, should the stars align, something miraculous would occur. We would make it. My team would move on to the world championship “The World Series” for the first time in forty six years. The first time in my lifetime. Few thought we were capable of pulling it off. My mind raced as I watched. I calculated and anticipated every detail. I saw more than the camera man and the average fan. As I watched, with time running out, I knew we were up against it… I am a student of the game.

It was almost as if she were attempting to communicate directly with me. During a pause in play, the television camera panned the stadium. They were on their feet and there was high drama throughout. The camera lingered, and there, framed before me a woman stood sullen, with a look intense concern on her face. Above her head, she held high a sign which read: “Ya Gotta Believe”. In all my years watching baseball. This was the first time I had ever seen such a sign. I prayed… I can't begin to tell you how I prayed.

For the life of me I cannot explain what motivates a reasonably intelligent and mature man to reduce himself to a fanatic “fan” of this magnitude. It is important to me that I point out my ability, and willingness, to confine this emotional pastime to the solitude of my living room. In the interest of clarity, I do not don face paint or streak naked at public contests. This exceeds my comfort level with regard to fanaticism. The emotion however, should not be understated, and I have learned and succeeded in the application of such passion in other aspects of my life.

I have experienced many challenging, disappointing and even devastating events in the course of traveling the path of life. There have been stunning lows and incredible highs. I am compelled to recall them occasionally. I remember from a learning perspective and also how I felt emotionally at the time. It keeps me grounded, and I am grateful for having known both achievement and survival. In this contest of life, I am also a student of the game. I pay close attention to the nuances, the little things that can sometimes rather easily escape me. These little things are the stuff that lasting pleasure and true happiness are made of. They are the things that none can be deprived of, regardless of our current condition. Yet these things, should they remain unnoticed, will leave the most successful and accomplished unfulfilled.

There is no permanent condition of despair. More importantly, I choose to accept that there always exist untold possibilities and opportunities. Periodically, and with intense focus, I take myself to the place of fortitude, hope and optimism deep inside. Then, with unwavering confidence, I can envision the endless wonderful dreams within my grasp.

All the time knowing, within the depths of my soul: “Ya Gotta Believe.”

Footnote: The 1997 “Cleveland Indians” advanced to the World Series.

Leon A. Walker is a published writer of lyrics, poetry, short stories, columns and original quotes. He is a native of Cleveland, Ohio though he currently resides in Northwest Florida

The post Ya Gotta Believe! A Spiritual Story by Leon A. Walker appeared first on Spiritual Growth Events.