The beginning, the Voice

OK, Since you are here, I assume that your curiosity has gotten the better of you/ Here's where things started for me.

Well,. Let me back up As a teen in the 60's and early 70's I get into the occult and read a lot about magic, elves, witches, mythology, etc. And I outgrew this by my early 20's as I learned to think and reason via cause and effect. Requiring proof for claims, etc. You know the scientific method.

Anyway, Back to our regularly scheduled monologue. In the fall of 2014 I had the first, of many, experiences. Simply put, my wife and son were outside working with the horses and I was inside reading a combat fiction novel (John Ringo's Kildar series) when I heard my name called. Not Thomas, just Tom. Not loud, but very clear. So I went outside and yelled out to my wife. “What do you need?” Normal interaction, right? Not when my wife insisted that she hadn't called me. I wrote it off. No big thing.

The next weekend, it happened again. Now I'm thinking my wife is playing a practical joke on me. Although that isn't in her nature.

OK, so far two events a week apart don't make for an earth shattering, world view changing event.

But it didn't end there.

(BTW. The reason I can write this so exactly, is that I kept a log (still do) of the occurrences as they happened.)

A week before Christmas, on the night of the Winter Solstice, I had a dream. One of those especially vivid dreams that you aren't sure is a dream at the time. In the dream I was traveling from Kansas City to London via boat. The departure point was a very large, ivy covered old stone building. It looked like it was all that was left of an ancient castle or temple. Inside the door where Very large columns, on of them had a tellers window cut into it. The clerk welcomed me by name and handed me a SPECIAL First Class Ticket. I boarded the boat, here in Kansas City, and sailed all the way to London. During the trip I stayed in my stateroom reading “Witchcraft in Ancient Europe”.

Arriving in London I was taken by the stereotypical London Cab to a pub. The pub was ancient and had tall stained glass windows. Each window depicted a scene from the original Grimm's Fairy Tales.

I walked over to an old style trestle table where 3 old men sat on one side, and sat across from them. These men talked to me like we were old friends, but kept complaining that my record wasn't complete. All the while the center gentleman was flipping through an old, like WWII old, military action report file. At that time I woke up. 3 AM. Remember the pub, it comes back.

The next day I printed out a talking board (Ouija style board) and used a crystal pendulum (bought just for this purpose) to attempt to access my sub-conscience about that dream. The name AZRIEL, was spelled out. A web search provided the information that this spelling belonged to the archangel of transformation, change, and death. (see https://www.facebook.com/mysticangels33/posts/558352040851965:0 for more information)