Updated: Jan 25, 2021
I love to share my stories with you – to encourage you to be open to even greater miracles than you already have known, or, if you haven’t had any, to be willing to receive lots of miracles from the universe. I also share my stories so you know that miracles can and do happen all the time. I’m eager for them to happen to you!
I’m not saying that life is necessarily easy all the time -– yet. However, you can become a recipient of a miraculous life.
My own life is ½ miraculous and ½ hard as the dickens. Often it depends on the day or time I check in. Yet, no matter how difficult the other ½ is, I wouldn’t give up the miraculous part of my life for any amount of money or health.
Miracles don’t have gradations, nor are there levels of difficulty. Miracles don’t come in shapes or sizes or amounts, although my logical/rational partner might disagree with this. To me there are only just – MIRACLES. A miracle either happens – or it doesn’t.
A miracle could consist of getting something in the mail you were already expecting — and yet happy to receive.
A miracle might be like getting help changing a flat tire, a neighbor dropping by to give you flowers, or a business not charging you for something you expected to pay for. (Yes, these miracles do happen.)
A miracle can be putting a tiny seed in the ground and sometime later eating its harvest.
A miracle can be a fertile egg being sat upon endlessly by a gleaming red hen, which weeks later becomes a fluffy yellow chick.
A miracle can be life-altering.
When receiving a miracle, I simply say to the universe – THANK YOU!!! (sometimes over and over again) Gratitude seems to encourage more miracles to take place.
The other part of the function is to ASK. “Ask and ye shall receive.”
Now I’m going to talk about a life-altering miracle I received in 1995. I’m not bragging or saying I’m special, because I’m not. I’m ordinary. I’m simply sharing this miracle with you so that you KNOW you could get a life-changing miracle, too.
Here’s my story.
I had been bedridden for months. I slept 16-18 hours a day. I was often in pain and depressed. My partner did all the chores, cared for me, and paid the bills. Often I was too sick and exhausted to even brush my teeth.
One day I felt that I had enough of suffering. I sat up in bed and yelled at god. Yes, YELLED!
“Either take me home right now… or do something else!”
Then I fell back into bed, miserable and unhappy.
At that time I was into my third year trying to qualify for Social Security disability. I finally hired an attorney, who informed me that two specialists he knew had a 100% approval rating for their clients to receive disability for the same illness I had. The only drawback was it would cost $6,000 to get all the tests required from those specialists. I had already spent $150,000 over the course of 20 years, trying to get well.
My partner asked me to call my Dad to help with my doctor expenses, in order to approve my disability. “Your father can take it out of your inheritance,” he explained calmly.
I had never asked for anything from my Dad before. He and I had a terrible relationship stemming back to my early childhood and I stayed away from him as much as possible. Now I was being asked to call and request him for help me. Reluctantly I did so.
I explained the situation, that I needed $6,000 for specialists, who would then advise Social Security how sick I was. I further remarked that he could take the money out of my inheritance.
The only reply from my Dad was, “I can’t.”
I asked again, this time feeling shaky.
“I can’t,” was again his answer.
“Please, Dad,” I added, now beginning to cry. “I need your help. This is for my life. Why can’t you? Tell me why.”
“I just can’t” he said again and hung up the phone.
I went outside to my garden and cried. This refusal felt like a stab to the chest.
Then I heard the soothing Voices of my Elders speaking to me. “Be grateful,” They told me.
“Okay,” I replied. “I’m grateful for my partner. I’m grateful for my house. I’m grateful for my garden. I’m grateful for my children and my friends.”
The Elders spoke again. “You forgot your Dad.”
I gulped. How on earth could I be grateful for HIM? When he had molested me and hurt me and now refused to help me when I was so desperate and had nowhere to turn? I took a deep breath. I trust my Elders. They wouldn’t ask me to do this without a good reason. I decided to try it.
“I’m grateful for my father. I’m grateful he molested me. I'm grateful he doesn't help me.” Suddenly, inexplicably, I was awash with emotion. I WAS grateful. Then I cried all the harder.
In the next few weeks my health began to improve.
My partner gave me the $6,000 for the doctors. They performed the necessary tests and I eventually submitted all the documentation to Social Security.
Then a few weeks later my sister called to tell me that Dad was in the hospital. His prostate cancer, which we thought had been cured, had returned, and now cancer had metastasized throughout his whole body, including his brain. He couldn’t vocalize well, although he could understand what was said to him. Dale asked me if I would make arrangements for Dad to go into a nursing home, since she had a job and I didn’t. I agreed to do so. I stayed at Dad's house for 2 weeks, making sure that he was comfortable and cared for at the nursing home. I drove his girlfriend to see him whenever she wanted, often several times a day.
Dad mostly slept. He never thanked me for my efforts. Never told me he loved me. Yet somehow I was no longer upset with him. I felt quite at peace. In fact, I prayed that he wouldn’t experience pain and suffering. He didn’t.
I went home for a rest, accidentally broke my foot, and wasn’t able to return. My sister went for a few days, then she went home.
Two weeks later the nursing home called to tell me Dad had died. I didn’t cry. I was relieved.
Five months went by. Dale was pregnant and almost due to deliver her baby.
Subtly at first, then stronger and stronger, I kept getting a feeling, a sensation of impending goodness...... Something BIG was coming my way.
When I told my partner about my message, he asked: “Are you going to win the lottery?”
“No,” I replied, “but it’s enormous. I just don’t know what. I guess we’ll see in time.”
Meanwhile my sister delivered her baby and we made arrangements to go see her by the end of the week.
A couple of nights later, around midnight, I was awakened by the Elders and asked to go to my computer. Often they ask me to write things, but never in the middle of the night. Dutifully, however, I went to my computer and waited for Their words.
Here is the poem they dictated:
Twirling with the wind we are the leaves of the universe.
Victorious in our freedom.
Yet hesitant, we deny our dance and with measured beat cling to desolation, lovelessness and loss.
Anonymous and hollow, hoping for an echo of clarity,
We interrogate the silent void.
A distant melody, faint but clear, reverberates: “Sing to me. Answers will frolic like questions, and doubts will evaporate like poetry in sunlight. When you choose life, life chooses you. A golden rainbow will come, a shower, washing clean your fears. Lay down your burdens and rejoice.”
Phrases hang in the wind like yesterday’s laundry, brows furrow in soil fecund with imagination, while lips form words unwittingly. “Who? We ask, like awakening owls – “who?”
“All of you,” the universe replies.
“A golden life.”
“Because it is time.”
I then printed out the poem, left it on my desk, and returned to bed. In the morning I showed the poem to my partner.
“This isn’t your best work,” he pronounced, like the good English Professor that he was.
Later that day we drove to my sister's house, to visit her and her new baby.
I kept thinking about the poem. I couldn’t get it out of my mind. What did it mean? Why did the Elders wake me up in order to have me write it?
We had a nice time with my sister, the new baby, and her family, then drove the hour’s distance home.
Again I kept thinking about the poem. I mentioned it.. “I don’t understand the poem. What does it mean?”
He shrugged in reply. Then he said, “Why don’t we go out to your favorite restaurant tonight?”
I was happy since I was exhausted by the trip and the visit. When we got home, I laid down to rest for dinner. He joined me on the other side of the bed and we rested.
I was again musing about the poem. All of a sudden I realized that it wasn’t a poem at all.
It was a TELEGRAM! from the Universe!
A new gold life!
I got out of bed and retrieved the poem from my desk, laid down on the bed and reread it.
Without warning, the ceiling of our bedroom “flew” open, and gold light starting streaming into my body from above.
I’m used to unusual experiences, so I just lay back and let it flow into me. I could feel the gold light in my blood, my brain, the cells of my body, even in my personality. The gold light continued to surge through me for about thirty minutes.
Just as quickly as it began, the gold light stream stopped. I felt different, giddy, light-headed, happy.
Then I heard the Voice of the Elders. “Look at your watch.”
I did. It was 6:18 pm.
“This is your new birthday. Don’t ever celebrate your old birthday ever again.”
“I will do as you say,” I replied.
Then I got up again and went to my computer. I have an astrology program installed and within minutes I was looking at my new birth chart. I had changed from a Capricorn to a Scorpio.
I had always wanted to be a Scorpio. I resonated with the intensity, passion and emotions of that sign. Not only that, but my former chart was very difficult, while the new one was much easier to live with.
I changed. It took about a year for Paul and me to get used to my new self. Instead of holding things back, I now blurted out what I felt — thanks to Moon in Sagittarius, coupled with the intensity of Sun in Scorpio. My psychic abilities were stronger than ever. My health significantly improved for the next 5 years.
The most stunning alteration (due to Jupiter and Moon in Sagittarius and a few other astrological aspects) was my sudden desire to travel, plus writing and publishing. I had never before liked to travel, preferring to stay home and garden. Suddenly I wanted to travel everywhere, internationally too, especially to sacred sites and did so for the next few years.
I wrote articles about my travels and spirituality, along with a number of books.
After visiting Egypt, I studied the Egyptian Mystery School, was ordained as a Priestess of Hathor, and transformed my apartment into an Egyptian Temple. (You can see my articles about Sekhmet and Hathor) I created two websites and started an on-line store. When I compare the two Laurens, I’m amazed at the differences.
Oh, there were two more miracles.
I was approved for Social Security disability AND received my inheritance, both just a few months after my Dad died.
One could say all these are miracles – and I’d have to agree. And who knows? Maybe my demanding (asking for help from god and the universe) and gratitude towards my father were part of the creation of the miracle. I don’t know anything for certain. But I do find all this interesting and hopeful, don’t you?
Postscript — My sister was very attached to both Dad and Mom and grieved tremendously after they died. Dale was 5 months pregnant with Jackson when our Dad died. Jackson has many of Dad’s characteristics. Dale was 5 months pregnant with Calen when our Mom died a few years earlier. Calen has many of Mom’s characteristics. Hmmmmm.
by Lauren O. Thyme
excerpt from COSMIC GRANDMA WISDOM copyright 2016
originally posted on Galdepress,com Aug. 10, 2012