#whattodotomanifestmoney

Your emphasis is on moving up. You don’t understand how you can achieve this when you’re caught in what seems like a no-win situation. Please take 15 minutes, three times a day, to calm your mind, giving it instruction to focus on the Creator, who gives all, and not on how your feats will be achieved.
When you continually ask how something will be achieved, you are blocking that thing from coming to you.

All your money, all your love, your health, and your relationships come from within, not from someone outside. If you understand that only God, the creator, can arrange for all your comforts to come to you, you will let go of the idea that you must bow to others to get what you want

#Angelmessage #Moving-on

Angel message July 17, 2014

You keep giving someone the benefit of the doubt, hoping that you’re wrong about them. It’s time to let them go and for you to move on. There’s a fine line between loving someone and obsessing.
The only person to love is you. When you understand that, you’ll attract the perfect mate or relationship

How Does A Person Get Faith?

Eighty-one

Outside the church, the air was brisk and salty. I pulled my heavy sweater closer to my chest and looked up at the sky for an answer.
Darcy was next to me checking her cell phone. After noticing that she didn’t have any messages, she closed it and turned to me.
“Listen, Val. I understand what you mean about belief, but I don’t have any belief. I can’t just pull it out of the thin air.”
I let out a sarcastic huff and nodded. “You’re preaching to the choir, Darcy. I know what you mean. Developing belief is about knowing who you are and what you’re capable of doing. It’s like faith, you know, it’s like belief.”
“Faith?” she quipped. “No, I don’t think faith is the same as belief.”
I let out a deep breath and looked to the sky for the best way to explain this. “Well,” I said, choosing my words carefully, “I know that the masters would argue that belief and faith are separate paradigms, but I’d argue that they’re one and the same.”
“How?” she said, looking at me curiously. “Explain how belief and faith are the same?”
I turned away from the front of the church and looked across the parking lot at the Atlantic Ocean. “Let’s go over to the water. I want to show you something.”
As we got up to the entrance of the beach, I said, “Do you see the beach?” I pointed across the dramatic expanse.
She gave me a curious smirk. “Of course, I see it,” she said.
“When you’re away from the beach, do you know that it still exists?”
She nodded. “Yes, of course, I do.”
“So, then, by the fact that you’ve seen the beach many times in your life, you have a firm belief that it exists, correct?”
Again, she nodded. “Yeah, I know without a shred of doubt.”
“If I ask you, ‘Would the ocean be here tomorrow?’ what would you say?”
She looked out into the sea and said, “Yes, of course it would.”
“And how do you know that?” I asked.
She gave a non-committing shrug. “Because I know. I’ve seen it hundreds of times, and I know it exists.”
“So, then, not only do you believe it, you know it, and you trust that it will be there. And you know it will be there tomorrow and all the tomorrows after that. You have faith that it will, right?”
Again, she looked at me as though I was giving her a trick question and nodded. “Ah, I see where you’re going with this. To answer you, yes, I do have faith. I have belief. Are you saying they are interchangeable?”
“Yep, that’s what I’m saying. The Bible’s definition of faith goes something like this, ‘Faith is the evidence of that which is not seen’. But, what I’m saying is in order to have faith, belief must be established prior to it. When you were growing up, you probably had it pounded into your head that God exists. You never saw God, but because it was pounded into your head, you came to believe in Him, even though you’ve never experienced Him firsthand. So when something good happens, you and your parents say, ‘Praise God’ for the miracle. The miracle then becomes the evidence or the product of that which you couldn’t see. And you say that you have faith.
“You were brainwashed into believing in something that you’ve never seen or felt. You can call it faith or you can call it a belief. For me, it’s all about knowing. And you can’t truly believe if you don’t know. You have seen the ocean. And by seeing it, you believe it’s there. And you have trust that it will be there tomorrow, even though you probably won’t see it tomorrow. So you could say that you have belief or faith that the ocean will be here tomorrow, right? Aren’t they then interchangeable?”
“Yes, they are. You make a really good point.”
“Look, Darcy. For me, belief is something that can change. One day you can believe in the goodness of people but that could change if someone hurts you. You could also believe in God until something goes wrong and He doesn’t come through for you, like what happened to me. As you grow and experience life’s lessons, what doesn’t suit you will be eliminated from your belief system. And that is perfectly fine. Belief is established when you want something to happen and it happens. And if you put your faith in a person who you’ve trusted and whom you know you can count on, aren’t you really saying that you believe without a doubt that that person will always be there for you, even if you don’t always see proof of them being around?
“So, then, what’s the difference between the two? When you have faith, you believe in something; when you believe, you have faith in it. My question is how does a person have a true belief in anything if they haven’t established witnessing the first cause? Unshakeable belief is established after you’ve witnessed the first cause. Faith and belief stem from the first experience of that in question.”
“Gosh, Val, you’re right. I never thought of it like that. You really gave me something to think about. There isn’t any difference.”
“Well, there isn’t, but when someone comes along and tells you to put your faith in that which you have never seen, how do you do that?”
She threw her hands in the air and bobbed her head. “Thank you! That’s what I’m trying to say. How can I believe in something that I’ve never seen or heard?”
I smiled and said, “You don’t, not at this stage of your life, not without investigating it.”
“And how do you do that?” she said, once again throwing her arms over her head in total frustration.
“By asking God to show you, that’s how.”
“Okay, you have to back up a minute. Explain this to me.”
Through an exasperated breath I said, “Darcy, listen. Before I made my connection, I didn’t believe in anything—not spirits, not ghosts, and not even God. Then I had a very desperate moment, and I begged for proof. I begged for something to believe in. Because let’s face it—many humans say they have belief—they say they have faith, but deep down, they don’t. Right?”
“Well, I always believed in God,” she said.
“Oh really? Why? Because you went to Catholic school and your parents believed in God? Because you had it drilled into your head from the time you were old enough to speak? Because you were brainwashed into having the faith that something existed without seeing it? Then throughout your life when you called on that which you had never seen, and it didn’t answer you, it rattled your faith? Right now, right this very minute, prove to me that God exists. Tell me something, tell me anything, that makes you have the faith in His existence.”
She cocked her head and narrowed her eyes and looked at me with suspicion. “This is another trick question, isn’t it?” she chortled.
I shrugged.
She let out a deep breath and nodded, taking on the challenge. “Well,” she began, “I know that God exists. That’s without a doubt.”
“How do you know?” I asked.
“I don’t know. I just know.”
“But how do you know?” I pressed. “Where is God? Have you had any experiences with God where you can claim, as fact, that your proof or evidence of His existence came from Him? What makes you know this?”
Suddenly her smile went taut, and her eyes turned glassy, and without warning, tears filled her eyes. “Darcy, don’t cry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get you this upset.”
Her tears were now falling down her cheeks, and she just let them. “Val, I don’t have an answer and I don’t know. And to be honest, there have been many times when I doubted God’s existence but felt guilty for doing so. You’re right. I can’t prove it. I don’t have that deep unwavering knowingness. I don’t have total belief. I guess I don’t have faith.”
I gave a sympathetic shrug and a small smile. “But I do,” I said. “And I didn’t just get it by having it pounded into my freakin’ head. I got it by asking for it. I got it by going within and seeking it. I asked, and I received. And that’s how I got my proof of that which I can’t see. That’s how I got my faith.”
She pulled both sleeves of her light jacket over her hands and wiped her face. “Teach me,” she said. “I want to know more.”
“Teach you?” I repeated.
I looked back to the ocean and asked myself, Am I the one to do this? And I heard, Yes, you are.

Master of the Realm is Free on Amazon today

I told you I’d give you a free download of Master of the Realm, and I’m a person who keeps her word. For today and tomorrow you’ll be able to download your free copy of Master of the Realm on Amazon. Consider it my late Valentine’s Day present to you

To download your copy, you can just go to Amazon. Here’s the link http://www.amazon.com/Master-of-the-Realm-ebook/dp/B00AAJG59Q/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1361792717&sr=8-1&keywords=master+of+the+realm

Enjoy!

Sowing the Seeds of Power

When I stop to reflect on my life, I see a tree on the verge of blossoming. I feel myself ready to conquer the world. It’s a feeling that resonates within my heart. I know it and therefore, I am it. There is nothing more powerful or supreme than knowing what it is you came to earth to do. There is no greater feeling than knowing who you are. Yet I can say with certainty that not many people know who they are.
Years ago, I was a girl who was lost. I didn’t know I was a valuable person who had so much to offer. I punished myself on a daily basis, filling my own head with thoughts of how I had failed in life. I was negative, unhappy, but mostly, unfulfilled. Where does a person fit into this life if they can’t find their purpose?
Sometimes our search is the purpose. Sometimes, people like me who seek knowledge are here on this planet to seek all the knowledge we can absorb, and maybe it’s so we can teach what we know to those who want to expand.
I say this with the utmost regard for humanity. It’s not who you know. It’s what you know. Because ‘who you know’ can leave you and fade away from your existence. But ‘what you know’ never leaves you. It can’t. It becomes etched into your soul.
What you feel in your heart you shall become. This is the universal law of God. If you want success and abundance, good health and love, then planting seeds of love and worthiness is what you must start with. Thinking these wonderful ideas will then take root in your heart if you continually nurture them by repeating them often. Soon the feeling of power and confidence will flourish in your field of God’s mind. And with diligence and faith, the feeling of purpose will follow.
Pay attention with all your might to the words you use everyday. Each one can either make you or break you. Pay even more attention to how often you use those words–as by thinking them, they get planted deep within your heart, soon to become the truth of who you shall be.
Think beauty. Speak beauty. Feel beauty. For if you do, you will create all you desire.

Step Away From the Chocolate

Various types of chocolate.
Image via Wikipedia

I had a bad week. You know those types of weeks: the ones where anything and everything can go wrong—the type of week where if you can imagine it happening, it will?  Well, for the sake of keeping this story short, I’ll just state for the record, it was a bad week.

Now, if you’re anything like me, when you’ve had a bad week, or a bad day, or are feeling down, lonely, or unappreciated, the first thing you’ll do is head over to any store, preferrably one that’s very close, and buy a bag, or box, of chocolates. For me, it has to be milk chocolate, with the exception of York peppermint patties, and it could be ANY BRAND OF CHOCOLATE. Hersheys, Godiver, doesn’t matter. In fact, let me go and get the box that I’m currently pigging out on. Be right back.

Okay, I’m back. So I was thinking. Why chocolate? Why do we go to chocolate when we need comfort? I know it tastes rich, sweet, and creamy. I know it releases endorphines, which calm us. But why do we eat so much of it? Read this to find out why.

The other day, after one of my numerous incidences, I jumped into my Mentley and headed over to Target and bought the king-size bag of York peppermint patties. I didn’t even get in my car when I ripped open the bag and popped four of them into my mouth. Talk about eyeballs rolling to the back of your head. Wooooo—wee. Those little patties are to die for. Of course, once I got home and tried to eat another one, my boyfriend came into the kitchen, watched me for several seconds, and then yelled, “Step away from the Yorks! I repeat. Step away from the Yorks!”

Damn it. Busted.

They can make a pill for every ailment. They should definitely make one for chocolate addiction.

Beyond the Valley of Death

All heads are bowed as if in silent prayer; eyes reading newspapers with headsets on—some are sleeping, others just too afraid. The humming of the massive jet engine is enough to lull me to sleep, although, dare I while up this high?

The altitude is 39,000 feet and just the thought of it, the idea of being confined, not being able to see the horizon, makes me think of coffins. I feel closed in until I glance out the window, and once I see the glory of eternity, then I remember that I can fly. I can jump from where I’m sitting and land on a cloud, and like a dancer, I can leap my way across each fluffy pillow until I get to my secret haven.

The man next to me is an accountant. His ledger paper and calculator are very busy; and he’s slouched over as he hits the keys, pausing every few seconds to push his eye glasses back up from the tip of his nose. As I watch him, I notice that he’s crossed his ankles, showing off his beige socks which doesn’t match his grey slacks. I begin to chuckle ever so quietly thinking that he needed help getting dressed this morning.

The flight attendant walks passed me again, and she turns her head from right to left, occasionally smiling when she makes eye contact with a passenger. Her head is high, and her posture perfectly aligned; she thinks she’s on the catwalk when the truth is she believes she’s nothing more than a glorified waitress.

I can’t help to think that every person on this carpet ride has one thing on their mind and that’s the glitter and gluttony of the forbidden valley. But as for me, I have two things on my mind. 
Panic.
Terror.

What bone curdling fear did those innocent warriors feel when their plane glided through the sky? No need for an elevator to the roof, for the towers roared and screamed, until they broke down and sobbed, collapsing to the ground. And they aren’t coming back and neither are those souls.
No need to knock on heaven’s door. It was opened and waiting for the good to die young.

The Canyon is my destination. It’s where it began. It was my connecting flight to the magnificent Seven—the truth of who I am. I was given the secret of a power who’s bigger than any powers on earth. Millions of years and many lifetimes are my destiny.  The orange and red maze of ghosts call me, saying we’re one.

From up so high, it stuns me. I never recalled anything as beguiling as this. Thousands of acres formed over billions of years, still here, to prove a point. All the departed roam this plane. The Colorado River looks like a thread snaking through this puzzle, and as I stare through my tiny window, through the clouds, the same clouds that I recall from my first pilgrimage, I know I’m home.

Eight years in the making, and my metamorphosis from death to life is a work in progress.

valentine defrancis 2011  all rights reserved.

Which Door Do You Walk Through ?

I was walking down a very deserted road. It was dark and still, and the air thick with the scent of moistened soil. The fog felt surreal, and I was alone. There wasn’t anyone to phone or to hold me as I quaked in fear.
The mist was confusing, and I squinted in order to see. My steps were small and cautioned because I was afraid that I would fall. Yet as I walked through this dreamlike state, I knew eventually, I would stumble upon it–I knew it in my gut.

The light from the lamp post shined, making the air look white, and although I was filled with uncertainty of what I’d find, I knew it was time. There was no turning back. I stood before it, my shadow tall. Before me they appeared–massive structures hovering through the universe. Two doors. Two paths to the unknown. Two decisions that would make or break my life.  They were identical. The crippling fear of the unknown was larger than life, mocking me and making me think twice.

But which door holds my life, the life that promises joy and love, and freedom from fear and doubt? Which door will redeem me for past indiscretions? Why am I so afraid to choose? What will happen to me if I’m wrong?

My hands shook uncontrollably, and my heart pounded through my chest. Each door was alluring and enticing, yet dangerous enough to cause me death. I took another step forward and then stopped. What if I was incorrect in choosing, what would happen? What would become of me? Would I end up in the pit of hell or shunned by humanity?
“Father,” I cried, louder than I had wanted. “Why am I so afraid to open either door? You offer me two, so one of them must be for the good … but which one, tell me?” 

I didn’t get an answer, so  I cried out again. “Father, what lies beyond these doors? Why must I choose life or death? Why are you making me decide? If you love me, you would just lead me–you would just tell me which way to go. You are supposed to be helping me, yet now, when I need you the most, all I can see are these two doors. There are no markings, no words of caution, just two doors that I must open. But what if I open one and it has no floor, and I fall through space and time, at speeds that will torment me as I crush in the pits of destruction?  Father please! Tell me what to do. What is this going to prove? My heart is good and my intentions are full of love. Can’t you just tell me what lies ahead?”

And then I took another step, and with trepidation, I reached for the knob that belonged to the door on the right. And I was almost there, my hand a fraction of an inch away, when I confusingly turned to look at the other door and reached for that one instead. And as I turned my head from right to left, and then from left to right, I cried at how I was so afraid to know what lied ahead. I knew I had to make the decision and quickly, because the ground that I was standing on was receding, and I could hear the mountains crumbling and smell the molten lava burning the brush, and soon I would not have the safety and security that I always knew.

The sweat was dripping down my temples, and my body trembled involuntarily as I put my hand on the knob once more. And for the last time I cried out louder than I did before and yelled, “Father, I love you. I cannot make my mind choose correctly, so I will have to go on faith. And Father, please understand that if I have chosen the wrong door, then forgive me; I only wanted to do what was right.” 

And I held onto the knob with all my might, and looked down at my feet and saw that there wasn’t a ground–nothing but light. My time had come and there was nothing I could do but walk through. And when I crossed the threshold, I opened my eyes and looked–the road was there, and I could smell the moistened grass, and I could hear the peacefulness of the sun rising and see the promise of the future. And I suddenly knew that the only thing that kept me from moving through was my own fear.

Doors are meant to be opened. Thresholds are made to be crossed. If we don’t take chances and grab every opportunity, big or small, we will never know what we are capable of. Our faith in God must be in the fact that He will never let us fall–not even in our darkest hour.

Valentine deFrancis.

time . . .

sands of time

 

What is time, really? When we sleep and go into that dark corridor  of unawareness, that lapse of consciousness that we can’t account for, it’s that place that we equate with tomorrow.

Today is here, and to dream of yesterday only brings us a moment closer to death. Time is just a stamp—nothing more, nothing less; because we can’t measure it, even with clocks, even with the appointments that we must keep; because we are forever going in and out of reality just by our constant daydreaming. Our memories serve us well. They allow us to travel back to those places where we messed up, where we fought with friends and loved ones—the people who’ve hurt us beyond repair; to those places where we once had love, where we could see ourselves back by the shimmering ocean, holding hands with the love of our lives, recounting each spoken word, and feeling the feeling that only that deep memory could bring. Time is where we could conjure up feelings that belong to another and pretend that those feelings are toward us. Time is fickle. It affords us our inspirations, giving us false hope, and then takes it away the second we turn our attention back to the now.

If we take away our sleep and remain awake, would we’d be able to say the words yesterday, today, or tomorrow?   Time is a made up event that justifies what we can’t explain, to give us the chance of changing our paths, to give us hope that there is something to cling on to. Does a person who dreams of tomorrow exist only in today? How could he? If his attention is on what he’ll achieve then he isn’t living in the now, so he must be living in the future. But one would argue that his physical body is in the present, despite that his consciousness is somewhere else. So how do we determine time when we’re constantly exploring the past and the future?

But what if we lived in a place where every single idea we had instantly manifested as an event, and what if all these ideas and dreams were just hanging out, together at once? What if our thoughts of the past, and of today, and of tomorrow manifested at the same time and suddenly everything we ever wanted and dreamed of, the good and the bad, happened right before our eyes, just waiting for us to choose which we’ll focus on first? What if that was to happen? 

Time is the place that feeds our dreams. It’s the place where we venture back, recalling moments of loved ones lost, of the laughter and joy that their precious attachment gave us. It’s a place where nobody else but you can go. Nobody can take it away from us. The young are naïve; they think of time as never ending, until time creeps up on them and makes them frightfully aware that their time is about to end. It gives the young girl visions and thrills and gives the old woman the fear of what the next day brings. Time is an enigma, elusive and unforgettable, yet tangible and scary, something we think about every second of our lives.

When will you come visit me? the mother says to her grown child. The ‘when’ is the heartbreak. It’s the thought that maybe it won’t come to pass. When will I get that raise or when will I find love? The when is the part of the equation that we fear the most, yet hold on to for dear life. It’s the ‘when’ that we live for, that we aspire to, that we won’t ever let go of.

Time makes lovers laugh, the aged cry, the hopeless beg, and the unloved wishing for just one moment of happiness. It’s a ghost of our fears and the comfort of our dreams, fleeting endlessly, to get us to create more.