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An Important Past Life Visit

Updated on November 7, 2009

From my upcoming book in 2010 MORNING COFFEE WITH GOD

we are ready to hear your other war writing, Soldier in Contemplation," said my divine visitor. "I have much to say about it, but first let’s hear it. I know it is another that you have memorized.”

“Yes, it is.”

Mr. Divine shifted positions and placed his hands in his lap, his eyes focused intently on me. I trembled slightly. I made myself comfortable, took a couple deep breaths and spoke.

Soldier in Contemplation

Dear God,

Will I ever understand war? How people justify destroying what is sacred. We are all equal in your eyes. You gave us the breath of life, and we take life in the name of greed and preserving peace. Young men not in the prime of life are forced to fulfill someone else’s dreams which are given birth in the pits of Hell.

Fiery passionate obsessions of war haunt the mind and torment the soul. How can anyone ask us to extinguish the human spark of God? Birth is a marvel we should cherish. Life should be honored, for does not our God

dwell deep in the heart, and chambers of the soul? Our captains exhort us to fight these wars to be free from the awesome foe. Onward we march in patriotic duty like barbarian warriors fully prepared to kill.

Perhaps the battle will be won, but we will never be free. Nightmarish horrors of those deathly moments will be embedded in our soul and memories for the rest of our life. We won’t know the real from the insane.

Perhaps this reality is insane and we who partake of war are no better than those we allow to dictate our destinies. When will we learn, dear God?
War is cruel, absurd and humiliating. Please God, let me rest in peace!

Tears were streaming down my cheeks. I thought I noticed one dripping down Mr. Divine’s as well. We were quiet for a few moments. I was lost in silent contemplation of a phenomenon I would never understand.

“I keep seeing a blurry image of a dark haired young man writing this letter,” I said.

Mr. Divine looked at me for several moments as though weighing how to explain something. Then he moved a bit closer and spoke softly. “Michael, that letter to God was written from the heart of a sensitive soldier.”

“You mean I didn’t just make it up?”

He shook his head no. I didn’t like where this conversation was headed.

“Take a deep breath. What I am about to tell you is probably going to rock your world to use one of your sayings.”

“That is one of my friend Victoria’s sayings too. Well, I guess I am ready to get my world rocked but I get goose bumps wondering what you will say next. The thought just sends chills up and down my spine and makes my stomach churn.”

Mr. Divine scooted a little closer to me. “Michael, Soldier in Contemplation has always haunted you because it is personal to you in a way you have never been able to explain but you have always felt it. Every time you read the letter you can identify with that soldier and feel a sense of kinship with him.”

“I do and I am always filled with despair and desperation.”

“Do you recall that dream you had a few days after writing it?”

“Yes, I have never forgotten it. In the dream I was in an old house in a bedroom looking in a big oval mirror. Slowly, my features began shifting. The experience scared me so I jumped back. Then I heard a noise. Someone was coming upstairs. Before I could run away this man stepped into the room. He was dressed in a soldier’s outfit. I could see him very clearly-that is all but his face. I asked him who he was. He very slowly walked towards me. He pointed at the mirror. We both approached it. When I looked inside the mirror my face was concealed. I looked at the man and he was wearing my face. Frightened, I let out a cry then I woke up from the dream. I never had it again.”

“That was because it was too confrontational for you. Michael, that dream was more than a dream. That man who came to you was one of your past life selves. You were the soldier, Michael, and the writing is the letter you wrote before you took your own life. You had had it with war and killing and decided that the life of a soldier was not a life you wanted to live. You were fed up even though there was a lot of pressure put on the young men to serve their country and do their military duty to help protect the homeland. You could not face the possibility that you would survive the war and have to live with the memories for the rest of your life. So you ended your life at the age of twenty-four. Your soul and subconscious know that and you remember; ergo the reason why the show War and Remembrance haunts you so much.”

I was shaking like a leaf. I tried to speak but nothing came out but a half audible squeak. We were quiet for a long time. I wanted to scream the word impossible, but I couldn’t even utter a whisper let alone speak or scream. Some time later I cleared my throat and found that I could talk again.

“No wonder the War and Remembrance mini series affected me so deeply,” I said softly. “You know something else. I’ve always known in this life that war was not for me. When I was in the eighth grade we wrote letters to the North Vietnamese government in Hanoi asking them to release the American POW’S. My letter was the longest and most emphatic one of all the students in the class. My History teacher said that if any of the letters could move the hearts of the North Vietnamese that mine would. The war ended a few months later and I didn’t have to sign up for the draft. I just knew that I would never go to war. I might be a Cryptologist, a translator, a cook or a jester to entertain the troops, but I’d never pick up a gun and fight. I have always disliked guns in this life and have never owned one.”

“That was a sad life, Michael, but the good news is that to quote your last line, “Dear God, please let me rest in peace!” you were able to rest in peace. Your guides helped disengage your spirit from your body and you were immediately taken to one of the hospitals in the spirit world. You were not judged as no soul is judged. One thing you learned from that lifetime is that suicide is not the answer to life’s problems no matter how difficult or overwhelming they can be. When you sit in counsel with your guides on the other side, you always examine your intention behind your actions. You did not commit suicide out of fear, hatred nor the desire to escape some hidden guilt or crime. You truly valued and cherished life and you were appalled to be expected to take life-life that you felt was precious and not yours to take. Your good karma in this lifetime was not to have to be involved with war at all. That suicide life was not in vain but it is not one to repeat.”
“I’ve always felt that. There have been many times that I wanted to end my life hoping the pain would go away. But in my heart I’ve always known that suicide is not the answer.”

“You bring some of that soul knowing back from your soldier life.”

“Thank you. So what about my other writings? Are they past life memories as well? I will never forget that time my friend Janet and I were meditating together listening to this very captivating CD. I felt myself going into some kind of trance or something. Suddenly in my mind’s eye I saw a young man and a woman skipping in a field. I knew they were deeply in love and I also knew that he was part black but did not know it. Learning who he really was going to change his life forever. I told Janet about it and she encouraged me to write my thoughts down. It became a short story.”

“Yes, that was a past life that you lived but not all characters in stories were you in your past lives. Some can be the past lives of other people you know or do not know. Some are remnants of past life experiences that you spice up using your imagination where truth and fantasy intermingle. If you look beyond the words and the images that the words portray, you will discover that there is much more hidden meanings to stories than people realize.”

“I can see how it can become very mind boggling.”

“Well, part of my job is to help unboggle (my new word for the day) all of this,” Mr. Divine said.

“Well, I’m all for unboggling.”

Mr. Divine grinned. “Yes, although you are already asleep this has all been very intense. You need some uninterrupted sleep.”
“Yes, I think I’ve had enough for one day, especially when this feels more real than being awake. I know I’ll remember all of this.”

I slept for three more hours. When I got up I was in a daze. That had been the most intense visit with Mr. Divine ever. I thought about the war writings for several days. I recalled my visit to the American cemetery in Normandy France when I studied in France. I tried to examine every headstone and catch every name. My professor had to yell at me several times to join the group. I could have spent the entire day in that cemetery. I recalled visiting Germany and talking to different people about the wars. I recalled working at two Jewish summer resorts and how affected and upset I became when I saw numbers tattooed on some of the people’s arms.

I recalled a record my foster sister gave me when I was fourteen years old. I could still hear those plaintive haunting words, “What do you win when you win a war? You win nothing.” I listened to that record more times than I could count. I remembered the Christmas movie I had bought years ago I’ll be home for Christmas about a young man in war who never comes home. It upset me so much I could never watch it again. I have quite a collection of war movies. Mr. Divine had definitely touched a chord.

To think that spirits trapped between two worlds could step through time and reach out for help was a bit mind boggling, but it somehow hit a deep chord in my being. I had always known there was more involved than my imagination when I wrote The War Child piece. The experience had affected me too deeply. And to think that one of my own past life selves had stepped through time to give me a letter I had written as a past life soldier was also mind boggling but somehow made sense. There is so much we don’t know. So much to learn.

I wondered what other surprises and insights I would receive from Mr. Divine. Was I getting into something way over my head? My heart said no. I have always been a thinker who likes to ponder the depths of the soul. The superficial answers that most people accept about life and its mysteries have never appealed to me. Most people are not even intelligent enough to ask the deeper questions. I silently gave gratitude and mentally told Mr. Divine how I looked forward to our next visit.

From my upcoming book "Morning Coffee With God" to be published by Ozark Mountain Publishing in early 2010


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