We were on holiday in Spain, staying at a beautiful beachside hotel. It was a much-needed and well-deserved break following a failed IVF attempt. My wife and I were both exhausted, mentally, emotionally and physically. I had also been away from my service at the church for some time during the critical stages of the IVF treatment. I missed my team and our healing service, but I understood that, for the time being, it was my turn to receive healing.
I was frustrated, too, because I had not felt my attunement for quite some time. One morning, I decided to take a long walk along the seashore.
It was a beautiful day, warm and breezy. The early-morning beach was quiet, and I made my way to some rocks at the far end, where I sat down to admire the sea, watch the birds, and listen to the waves. My soul desperately needed healing. I was broken inside following the disappointment of our failed IVF attempt. I had held myself together for some time for my wife’s sake, but inwardly, I was silently bleeding.
I closed my eyes and felt myself gently drifting away. Then, I heard the familiar voice of my communicator from the other side.
“You are being prepared for your difficult task ahead, but you will have a choice.”
I received no further information about what this message meant, but something deep inside me told me that whatever lay ahead was serious. I prayed for guidance and hoped for a sign. It was not the prospect of taking on a new responsibility that concerned me, but the possibility of failing to fulfil it.
A couple of days passed without any sign. My wife noticed my unusual silence, but from experience, she understood that I was going through a process. This time, however, something felt different, and I could not explain what was happening.
On the second night, I had a profound dream, and suddenly, things began to make more sense.
I found myself looking at an older man, dressed like a monk, inside a dimly lit cave illuminated by candles. He was praying over a young man lying on the floor in front of him. The young man was struggling violently, squirming, screaming, and desperately resisting the prayers being said over him. I instinctively knew that he had been taken over by something, and that the monk was trying to help him.
Then, an inaudible voice resonated deep within me and said:
“This is you.”
I woke up slightly startled, but also relieved. At last, I had been shown what I was being prepared for. My healing service was about to take a much more serious turn, and I was being prepared for the responsibility ahead.
These were uncharted waters. I was entering territory where I could potentially encounter powerful adversaries, with the possibility of harm coming not only to myself but also to others. The implications were serious, and I knew I could not approach this lightly.
I went for another long walk to clear my head. By then, I had already decided. I did not care about the difficulties or the risks. I felt honoured to be called into service, and I was prepared to accept whatever came with it.
I warned my team about the possible consequences of what lay ahead. Without hesitation, all three assured me that they would never abandon me.
When I returned to London, Bible in hand, I went to the church. I knew that things were about to become considerably heavier and more intense than before. I also understood that we would not necessarily win every battle. But by then, I no longer cared what I might have to endure. I had already been deeply wounded by the disappointment of our failed IVF attempts. I felt that I could not possibly hurt any more than I already did. So I stepped forward, knowing a very different chapter of my service was about to begin, and indeed it was; in fact, it was different from what I had expected. I started receiving deeply troubled patients from all walks of life, some hurt by people on this side of life and others by energies and entities from the other side. Even though it was gruelling at times, it still gave me great satisfaction knowing I could do something good for others, alas, at the expense of my own health and well-being.
