Mothers with MS, Distant Healing, Meditation, and Prayer

My mother had multiple sclerosis, MS, and the prayer concerning her distant healing was surely answered. Unbeknownst to mom, I sat on the edge of my bed and went into an unusually audient, visual, and emotionally charged meditation, which led me to recall many experiences with her back to early childhood. During that loving prayer meditation, which included smiles, laughter, and a tear or two—I felt a receptive presence sit next to me on the bed. After petitioning this entity to touch my mother with healing—I closed the prayer and went off to work. I forgot the prayer—not recalling it even when mother told me the following about what she experienced on that day:

While sitting in her recliner watching television, my mother was increasingly annoyed by a strange, oscillating hum in her ears. Upon standing, she became alarmed when she broke into a sweat and felt pins and needles running up and down her body. My Mother told me she feared she was having a stroke. Attempting to trace the origin of the sound, she removed her glasses thinking they were interfering with the volume control of her hearing aid. That being no help, she removed the hearing aid. Relieved when all the annoyances stopped—her voice rang with surprise when she told me her hearing was as clear as a bell. My Mother said she could read the small print on the television screen without her glasses—shouting, “I’ve never been able to do that!” Her voice boomed when she told me she planned to pick up a rowing machine and begin an exercise regimen to ward off the effects of multiple sclerosis. Her buoyancy lifted me, yet I failed to connect the dots all of this happened on the same day, at the same time I prayed for her healing while sitting on my bed.

It was the day after the prayer meditation I spoke to her. Then I went to work again as usual. When I walked into the empty building on my schedule that night—the memory of the prayer and my mother’s phone call hit me like a ton of bricks. In the abruptness of the moment, three entities stood before me. I associated them with the one sitting next to me on the bed during my prayer for my mother. They reminded me how I lacked any expectation of mother’s healing to the degree of total forgetfulness. But at the same time, these entities told me that my emotion, visualization, and the letting go of it was what sent it hurtling to my mother. Were they there to admonish me—to tell me that prayer and meditating were not just a feel good game and to pay attention? They acknowledged I had prayed right, but that in the end I didn’t notice the results. Spiritual entities don’t use words with me,  but convey rapidly through pure thought and feeling, which I dilute in a struggle with words.

Leaving me shaken by their directness, and before departing like the wind after about two minutes, these spiritual entities assured me there was life after death, and yes—that they were really there. Not to be disrespectful, but it would be more accurate to say they shoved it in my face. I have no regrets about the experience, but I realized I had begged— please, just touch my mother with healing. On that day, I learned it is unnecessary to beg the universe for anything. I wish I had simply asked in faith for her complete healing, because the actual outcome was a duplication of my request.

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