We're praying for you

It should embiggen if you click it. This is Kurt Schlichter retweeting something he likes, presumably. It is little pictures of people praying like mad for Ted Cruz. It agrees with his previous tweets and his writing on Town Hall. It's been like this on Twitter all night. Sensible people and religious people praying for Ted Cruz to win in Indiana on Tuesday, today.

Tell me, how that prayer goes, "Dear Lord please make Cruz win" or "Dear Lord, your will be done." 

"Dear Lord, please enter into the hearts of these wound up conservative voters and make them do the right thing by voting for the person we smart politicos know best. Please do that." 

I have a anecdote about this that is very long and deeply personal and 100% not cogent because it all occurs under the influence of hospital drugs and hallucination and that is such a bummer because it is more real than anything else and it changed my life and it means the world to me.

This happened when I first developed pneumonia and was wheeled into hospital for the third time and my prospects appeared grim to all. A very kind and soft-spoken nurse of negroid persuasion knelt down to eye level with me in the wheelchair and asked me quietly if I prayed. I told her yes, but now I don't know what to pray for. Should I pray to help me live longer or should I pray to help me die well? I did not know and that stopped me from praying. I don't know how to start. Without hesitation, conversation style she told me, "maybe try praying for His will to be done whatever that is." I thought in that moment, "Jesus Christ! Surely an angel for me specifically to tell me this precisely. Brilliant! The standard Christian answer. Why didn't I think of this thing so simple myself?" It's reinforced in the Lord's prayer every time it's said. Honestly, how can I be so thick to not see that immediately? I really am stupid sometimes. That was my new thing that night. Whatever it is you want with me, live or die. It's not up to me now. I am tired. I am indifferent. Do with me what you will. 

And the most remarkable thing happened that night. An astounding story so real there is no way to accurately convey it because as it ended the whole thing stepped down to lower energy, lower vibration, heavier slower existence, thicker and slower and less and less real until as the arena sized crowd of real people dissipated, leaving as they do in all directions, down, stepping down to viscosity of  molasses, the heaviness of breathing, the weight of existence,  and the sound of actual footsteps to this reality that we know as real, 

"You're human, aren't you? I can tell." 

The nurse was amused. "And how did you you figure that out?" 

"You're the first person in hours and among thousands with weight of footsteps." 

That's how. I guess I'm to live. 

The part that is too long to tell  is a tale of healing that begins with a Catholic group poking their heads into ICU room that I was transported by emergency maneuvering, a rather fun ride on gurney, and asking my permission for them to pray for me. 

"Sure." What the heck. They did and then left. Catholics. Weird, huh? 

Then my parents came in and visited. They stayed awhile, cried, prayed,  then left. 

Then coworkers showed up. They read biblical passages, cried, prayed and then left. 

A biopsy was planned for later but events took me first night to ICU and they decided to do it right then that first night. My report of events that night overlap with reports of an actual biopsy being performed on me. There really was a small crowd of people in the room. They really were talking directly to me, they really were instructing me how to heal. Actually, they were telling me to stop talking, that my constant chattering is interfering with their equipment. They had to go through my nose to my lungs because I wouldn't shut up. Going the right way through my mouth  risked me gnawing their equipment. They had not seen the likes of it, a patient that will not cease talking even under anesthetic. I would not stop talking the whole time. This nurse told me this the next morning.

During the night an entity appeared and took to communicating directly. A being of light in the shape of an egg. Laugh if you like. I don't care. He brought with him associates, also light, lesser lights, who assisted and who learned at his side. Their very presence invited the presence of any and all interested as onlookers and as group energy focusing assistants. The tiny room became packed with more personalities than can possibly fit into the physical space. My physical body is the center of attention. It is impossible to fit a concourse of observers into the physical space of one tiny ICU room but they did.  It is a mind blowing compression. A mind blowing interest, this entity that does this when allowed, but they didn't care about fitting into space. That reality is more real than this one. Personalities in that reality step down energy to connect here.  

"I cannot process all this, my brain is not capable. I cannot remember all this. It's way way way too much for me." 

"We know that. We're talking to your body, not just to you." 

"How? My body is dumber than I. It doesn't think." 

"We know that. We're instructing your cells how to heal."

"What?" 

"We're bringing molecules to agreement." 

"Oh." That satisfied me somehow. I relaxed. Stopped talking. They really do have this covered and I can now shut up. 

When the nurse explained to me in the morning  that my report of events that night matches actual events in the room, that I'm describing what the doctor  actually did, with his team, and not with the cast of thousand spirit personalities and ten thousand more spirit parties interested in the art of cross dimensional healing when it is allowed and when all channels are opened this way through prayer, my vision could not be deflated.

"Aw, shit." 

"What?" 

"This is how science centric deny my reality. The healing activity in this world overlap the healing arts of that one.  Back in the physical world, now focused in this energy, the spiritual portion is denied. Completely. The greater portion is rejected in favor of the lesser portion, physical reality, life. 

 I know what happened to me in reality that's more real than this one. That's a gift! It will not be taken just because that healing exercise overlaps precisely with this lower level physical healing. No way. I know what happened to me. That cannot be taken. 

Just because it was drug induced. Shut up. 

None of that is possible when it is my will being done. Or your will being done. I'm convinced what happened that night is because it is His will being done. That is allowed. IT is permitted. Permit His will to be done. Permit your will to match whatever His will is. That is what his will being done looks and feels like. 

The nurse came back with a Christian book on spiritual healing that was trite compared to the experience I just had. Bless her heart, it happened again, the book I am given to help me cannot possibly help. I can write one better myself. 

These people are praying for Cruz to win. They should pray for His will to be done. I'm sensing His will overlaps with the people's will this time. But I never do know anything like that for certain. I have no idea why His will would be for me to continue being alive. Maybe His will is lighthearted as, "Well, ride this out to the end far as you can, will you,  and see for yourself what happens."  I honestly do not know. I am baffled.