The drive to my daughter’s home the morning Michael died was a long four hours. All during those miles I kept asking myself what had gone wrong. Why hadn’t I seen the tragic event involving Michael before it happened? In the past, I had had some spectacular successes as a psychic. On one occasion, I had warned a local scuba diver about a valve problem before his dive. The diver later thanked me saying that I had probably saved his life. Why had these psychic abilities failed me when my family needed a forewarning? There were many questions, but no answers at that time. Of course, my family and I were most concerned about helping Lynn.
Lynn’s house was crowded with friends and relatives when we arrived. Everyone was extremely upset, angry, confused and all those other adjectives that describe how we feel when touched by a tragedy. The women were in the kitchen or helping with the baby and most of the men were outside or running errands. Some were having cigarettes although they had quit smoking years ago.
While arrangements for the funeral were being made, I managed to find a quiet space in the living room. As I sat there, I was thinking of Michael and how I could have missed any clues about his death–his accident. Just then I felt a very strong presence of another person. I knew it was Michael. His thoughts came into my head.
“It’s me. Please don’t give up. There isn’t anyone else if you don’t help me. It’s me, Michael.” I made a mental request for Michael to hold on while I found some paper and a pen. I then mentally said to go ahead slowly and I would write notes.
I knew it was Michael. There was no doubt. I could hear him very clearly. He kept saying that he didn’t want me to give up on him. I was his only hope of keeping in contact with the family. He didn’t know how the accident happened, but he wasn’t blaming me for not warning him.
He explained briefly where he was as far as he knew. It was at this time I promised him that I would be there for him anytime he wished. This was the beginning of the almost daily messages from Michael.
I don’t know exactly why I have been chosen to relay these messages and conversations, but I definitely feel that I have. I’ve had almost 30 years of experience in the psychic realm. I have given some very evidential readings to many people over the years and no longer feel that I have to “prove” my ability. Michael certainly knew I was but the talks were about his departed relatives. Little did he expect to be crossing over within a few short years.
Michael had a well-developed sense of humor, but he always treated me with respect. He had said that I was like a father to him. In fact, when I made my usual Sunday night telephone call to their home, I received the name of “Father Murray.” After a while, the name seemed to stick and I became known as Father Murray…at least on the telephone.
When I do “readings,” it is in the form of psychic counseling. I don’t do it often and I certainly do not do it to earn my living. I have been told that I make psychic work look so easy that people wonder how I do it. I don’t use any special lighting, darkened rooms, music, incense, or any other physical devices to aid me in any way. After mentally setting up psychic protection, I can usually give a “reading” anywhere. I can work just as well over the telephone, on the internet, or in a moving train.
Long ago I asked why is this happening to me. I came to the conclusion that everybody has some degree of psychic ability. Some develop it better than others. Some don’t want it and others go to great extremes to chase down any scintilla. This doesn’t mean that I don’t question what goes on. I’m questioning constantly. Above all, it helps to keep a sense of humor.
When I talk with Michael, I find a comfortable chair, take up my pen and paper, and tune in–I really tune in. I could be called a receiver. I have to find the correct station and there has to be some fine tuning. I hear voices and see pictures. An interaction takes place. During my conversations with Michael, I see him in his surroundings and sense his feelings and emotions while he speaks and answers my questions. All this comes through me and is recorded by me.
I don’t plan anything before I have my “talk” with Michael. I usually have no idea where these conversations will lead. Sometimes I get ideas if Michael is anxious to talk about a specific topic, but there are no plans, no charts, and no details. Often I sit, write, and wonder about the direction of a conversation. All this isn’t a one sided effort. I can and do ask questions. I sometimes ask for clarification. Usually, though, I let Michael tell me the message he has for me.
All the things that happen to Michael are not written down. When he talks to me, he usually skips details and tries to present an overview of what he considers important. Other times he is so enthusiastic that he seems to bubble over. Michael was and is a story teller. So am I. I think the combination of the two of us makes a good team.
The story is from Michael. It’s his view on life after life. You will find that Michael didn’t become a very wise person the minute he crossed over. With others, it may be different. Someone called these messages a travelogue of the afterlife. Perhaps it is, but it is a very personal journey.
As you read about Michael’s journey, be prepared to expect the unexpected. Be prepared to have some of your ideas about the afterlife changed. Be prepared to have ideas and the messages bounce around in your head like an echo.
“Why?” That was the anguished cry by Michael’s brother at the grave site. Only one person said it aloud, but everyone was thinking the same thing. I don’t know the answer. You may find some clues on the pages of this book.
By Robert Murray