Ode to my mother, Mary

“I can be changed by what happens to me. But I refuse to be reduced by it.” Maya Angelou’s words ring as true today as they did growing up. My earliest memories are not of Disneyland, carnival rides, soccer practices, or extravagant birthday parties. Contrary, my earliest memories are of darkness. I cannot remember which came first, the time I hid under my bed and urinated on myself or the time I saw my mother’s battered face against a tree: the mix of blood and tree bark was not found on the color wheel shown to me in pre-kindergarten the day before. As a child, I was conditioned to automatically fear my alcoholic father.  Others did not need to influence me. His actions directly manifested my conditioning. Such as the universe works in mysterious ways to balance darkness and light, my mother was the loving superhero that quickly recovered and comforted her boys. As my childhood memories flow through my consciousness a sweet smell is stamped on every memory picture. I note that the smell of fresh red and pink roses moments before a rainstorm and a Texas spring have always been present.

My mother had the strength and assertiveness of a man. Like Hulk Smash, she quickly morphed into my superhero when she needed to protect her boys or herself from abusive men. I vividly remember the moment I felt the urge to check in with my mother after hours of playing down the street with my brothers and friends. At the age of 13 I knew to follow my intuition. A hint of the reoccurring sweet smell of a Texas spring accentuated my intuition. I walked in the house just in time to see my mother raise an iron skillet behind the wooden kitchen table turned on its side. It was evident that the kitchen table served as an Aegeus shield for my mother. imageI witness my superhero in action. That night after the cops where called and after being displaced to a friend’s house, my loving mother comforted my brothers and me as we feel asleep to her repeating affirmation, “We will be alright. Everything will be ok.”

For the majority of my life my mother was a single parent. On Father’s Day, my brothers and I made it a point to buy our mother flowers and a card. Oddly enough, Hallmark did not carry a card that conveyed, “Happy Father’s Day to the Best Mother in The World.” I guess single parenting was not common enough to warrant a section for mothers who acted as both parents. We recognized her struggles to maintain a house and raise three crazy boys. My mother embodied both father and mother, masculine and feminine, and strength and love. “I don’t need a father,” I found myself sharing my sentiment to anyone that would care to listen.

As my childhood catches up to the present, I know now the importance that Mother Mary has played in my life. She has accompanied me all these years. Mother Mary, like my mother, is very loving, kind, nurturing, feminine, and at the same time, masculine and assertive. My religion taught me to pray to God, Jesus, Mother Mary, and to any saint. imageAs a catholic I am comfortable invoking saints and Mother Mary when as needed. I do ultimately pray to one, supreme, heavenly Father, but Mother Mary is the one that visits me in my dreams. She comforted me the many nights I feared being abducted by my father. She assuaged my nightmares and dried my tears with love and grace. She was present when I managed depression caused by years of molestation and caused my hands to steer left seconds before contemplating driving into a light post on I35 South. Most importantly though, I now know she has been my intuition.

The day before my mother passed to be with her Heavenly Father I prayed and meditated. I am a believer that our loved ones need to hear “I forgive you” or “please forgive me for” so they can cross stripped of any guilt or rancor they may harbor. In that hour of meditation, I told my mother everything she needed to hear.  “Mom, I forgive you for not being there to prevent my being molested. I forgive you for not seeing the signs to put a stop to it. I forgive you for not being my superhero in this one situation in my life.” Similarly I asked for forgiveness. “Please forgive me for not visiting you as much as we both would have liked. Please forgive me for sponsoring my father to become a US Citizen against your wishes. Please forgive me for the moments I did not meet your expectations as a son.” I concluded my monologue with, “I thank you for being the center of my universe, and I thank you for being the best mother and father. I love you unconditionally and I cannot wait to get to know you better from the other side. I welcome you to all aspects of my life and eagerly anticipate sharing my spiritual development with you and your assistance.” My mediation was cathartic. It was a lifetime of therapy sessions condensed in a power hour; a divinely induced energy release.imageThis moment was an ode to my mother. As I started to ground myself from my meditative state, a silhouette of Mother Mary appeared in my mind’s eye. A fragrant smell of roses moments before the rain validated the importance of this special moment.

Merry Christmas

Arch Angel Gabriel tells Mary, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people” (Luke 2:10). Mary’s Annunciation, Angel Gabriel, and the three wise men that carried myrrh, frankincense, and gold across many miles to baby Jesus have long fascinated me. Merry Christmas 3As a Mexican Catholic by tradition, the nativity scene is emblazoned in my mind from a young age. One good Posada with the long walk and the repeating prayers and songs will make anyone versed in the Annunciation and the nativity scene. Merry Christmas 4Fast forward approximately 2015 years. Is it strange to think of Angels, Mother Mary, and Jesus outside the Bible? Is it strange to think of Angels, Mother Mary, and Jesus as nondenominational? Before I embraced my ability as a medium, I too thought it was crazy, heresy, blasphemous, and anomalous to think of such things outside of Christianity. As a Christian, on this special time when I celebrate the birth of Jesus, I give thanks to The Lord for the ability to deliver messages from Mother Mary and Arch Angel Gabriel to Christians and non-believers alike.

How is that possible you may ask? Honestly I do not know how it is possible. I just know that it happens. Apostle Paul sums it up perfectly for me in 1 Corinthian 12:7 when he says, “To each person has been given the ability to manifest the Spirit for the common good.” I have learned not to question it, but rather to lead by faith and just deliver messages.

Are you having a baby, trying to have a baby, had a miscarriage, or questioning your motherhood/fatherhood? Most likely Mother Mary is with you and will make a guest appearance, chime in, and impart sage advice. In my sessions, I feel her presence. Merry Christmas 2To me, Mother Mary feels like my mother: nurturing, loving, assertive, but kind. She smells like roses and spring. Also, she looks like a soft pink hue. I do not see her face per se, I feel, smell, and have learned to associate soft pink hue to Mother Mary. From time to time, Mother Mary will appear as a silhouette in my mind’s eye.

On my 20-minute drive to a client’s house, I suddenly felt Mother Mary’s presence and instantly knew the session would center on a child. I knock on my client’s door, I sit down, and within a couple of minutes I validate my client’s repeated failed attempts to conceive. I share with my client that Mother Mary is partnering with her grandmother to make her desires for mothering a child possible. Although this client is not Catholic or religious, she welcomes the message with no hang ups.  She is a non-believer client that believes in the message. On this day, my client had three special guests appear: her grandmother, Mother Mary, and Arch Angel Gabriel. Most often, Mother Mary and Gabriel are a packaged deal; a divine pair.

Arch Angel Gabriel means “Messenger of God”. My wife and I named our son after Angel Gabriel because we love the Annunciation story, not realizing the meaning behind the name. From Luke1:13-16, we know that Gabriel also appeared to Zechariah to announce the birth of John the Baptist (Jesus’ cousin). Like Mother Mary, he is present when a pregnancy is in the air. Gabriel is the messenger of God and often makes cameos in my sessions to those who have a message to deliver like artists, writers, singers, composers, photographers, painters etc.

The first time I realized that Angel Gabriel was with me was at a wedding. After a few drinks and a long night of celebrating a beautiful wedding, I felt a faint pressure on my chest. This pressure was different as typically, the pain is heavy and almost suffocating-like for those loved ones who have passed who try to get my attention. To me, Angel Gabriel looks and feels feminine, soft, and warm. He smells like moments before a rain storm, and looks like a gentle pale white flickering light. Merry Christmas 5At the wedding, I was left alone with a friend. I shared with her that she was expecting, it would be a girl, and that Angel Gabriel was with her. Thankfully, my friend did not slap me or abruptly walk away from the conversation; rather she proceeded to share her dreams of having a baby girl. Not to my surprise, ten months later she was blessed with a healthy, baby girl.

After the first encounter with Angel Gabriel, he has been with me to deliver messages to friends and family who haven’t figured out their life purpose, who have a book to write, or have a song to compose. Most recently, I had the honor to do a reading for my sister. She lives in El Salvador. We did not grow up together, but we share an unconditional love that binds us. Before the reading, I saw the white flickering lights that I associate with Angel Gabriel. Although her grandfather was the person I was channeling at the time, Angel Gabriel took a few minutes to make his cue. He showed me a blank book and words being typed. I immediately told her, “You have a book to write. In fact, the book is almost finished in your mind already; however, you are delaying putting it on paper.” The message deeply resonated with her. This time, her grandfather and Angel Gabriel were partnering to nudge her to publish her book. My sister was in awe that I was able to reach in her mind and heart and pull out her strongest desires of publishing a book.

On this Christmas holiday do not be afraid. Please know that The Lord and His Angels bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people. Tis the season of giving and for that reason, I share nuggets of wise advice from private sessions I have held. I know The Lord and His Army of Angels want you to have self-compassion, self-forgiveness, and to be happy.

Self-compassion: love yourself. Do not be harsh if you forget your lap top at home causing you to be late to work. Do not beat yourself for enjoying delicious food with friends and family. Make time for yourself. Luke 5:16 describes Jesus withdrawing himself in the wilderness to pray and be alone. Keep it New Testament style and make time for yourself. In this world of chaos, time-is-money mentality, process improvements and efficiency, time is against us when we permit it. Always remember we are created in His image. Anyone who is a parent knows how defeated you feel when you witness your children being overly critical over their appearance or other short comings. As parents we just want to absorb all their insecurities and show them their true worth. Remember that next time you’re beating yourself up. We are all His children.

Self-forgiveness: forgive yourself for what you did or did not do. In the eve of my mother’s passing, I prayed and mediated for forgiveness. In my mind, I asked God to forgive me for all my transgressions against my mother and I asked my mother to forgive me the many times I fell short in her eyes. It was one of my most cathartic experiences ever. How can you love anyone else if you do not love yourself? Part of learning to love yourself is learning to live guilt free. As a Christian, know that Jesus died for your sins. He carried that cross for you to love yourself.

Be happy: find out what makes you happy. Soon after you define and implement what makes you happy, passion and abundance will ensue. I graduated college in 2003. In 2014 I finally discovered what makes me happy, my passion, and my life purpose. I have always been great at my job, over excelling, and promoting quickly within any organization that I worked. My jobs have always been lackluster, though. I was driven by money and a title, but never really found peace at work. On April 18, 2015, I published my first blog about my gift. For the first time in my life, I can say I am truly all around happy with myself. I love my wife and children, I enjoy my work, and I dedicate time to fuel my soul by meeting with clients and channeling messages from their passed loved ones and Angels.

“For to us a child is born. To us a son is given and the government will be his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace” Isaiah 9:6

Holiday Reflection

“We were poor but we had love. That’s the one thing that [momma] made sure of.” Loretta Lynn’s lyrics hypnotize me. It is Black Friday and North Texas’ first freeze. I fail to keep up with the conversation over dinner at Babe’s Chicken Dinner House. My senses are on overdrive. The crispy, double fried chicken thigh and buttery mashed potatoes and flashbacks of my past dominate my sensory motherboard. My Past plays in my mind. The Present enjoys dinner with my family which includes my father from Nevada and sister from El Salvador. On this holiday season, my Future affirms my children will not know the plight of a “miner’s wage,” thanks to momma’s hard work.

Holiday Reflection 1

“Momma loved and raised [four] kids on a [seamstress’] pay.” As a child, we never celebrated Thanksgiving. For my brothers and me, it was a break from school. My momma worked and usually only had Thanksgiving Day off. “I seen her fingers bleed, to complain there was no need.” Yes, I recall seeing my mom’s finger bleed through the gauze as she described a sewing needle piercing her thumb. She never complained as she drifts to sleep to start all over tomorrow morning. Spirit plays this moment just minutes after I complain about Wal-Mart’s ridiculous Black Friday crowd. After I make the connection that I should be gracious for this moment, in my mind, “she smiles in mommy’s understanding way.”

“In the summertime we didn’t have shoes to wear but in the wintertime we’d all get a brand new pair.” Christmas was always bitter sweet. To me, this season was bitter because I never had the opportunity to believe in Santa Claus. After a few disappointing Christmases, I was conditioned not to believe in Santa Claus against all earnest attempts of the contrary. Jesus’ birth was sweet because of non-profit organizations such as the Salvation Army and King’s Daughters. God blessed me with loving teachers. My Kindergarten teacher is my hero. She blessed our family with memorable Christmas: shoes, clothes, Christmas Tree, and a toy. I know momma worked hard to pay the bills and maintain our livelihood. Momma’s love prevailed over the poverty. I knew the trailer we lived in was no mansion, but somehow I was fulfilled. I was once a Salvation Army Angel, and I know the Lord blessed me with many Angels throughout my life.

“Well, a lot of things have changed since way back then.” “Yes they have,” I quietly thank God. My wife and I made a life for ourselves. By the grace of God, hard work that I learned from my momma, and education, I am prepared to give my children a life my momma and I always wanted. The glass of Malbec is empty. I pour one more glass and enjoy this humbling holiday reflection as the song continues to play, “and it’s so good to be back home again. Not much left but the floors, nothing lives here anymore, except the memories of a coal miner’s daughter.”