To The Distant Shore of Lake Grief

To The Distant Shore of Lake Grief 

 

#8… After observing a fisherman launch a second stick of dynamite into the lake, the game warden started his engine and shot across the water to make the arrest.  “He yelled on his bullhorn, “Stay where you are.  I am a conservation officer, and you are under arrest.” 

He soon pulled alongside the fisherman’s boat.  “What on Earth do you think you’re doing?!”

“Why, ‘course I’m fish’n,” said the fisherman.

The officer was stunned.  He couldn’t believe someone could be so bold, so accepting to admit that he was using dynamite to fish!  “You’re not allowed to use dynamite to catch fish!  Surely, you know it is illegal to do that!”

The fisherman reached down, lit a stick of dynamite and handed it to the still seated officer, who opened his eyes in horror at the burning fuse and stick in his hand.  The fisherman said, “You just gonna sit there an’ talk, or’re you gonna fish?”

When writing the opening paragraphs above and thinking through this week’s contribution to the 12-week sequence, I reasoned and wondered:  My series of writings is designed to give those of us who have experienced horrific losses resources and tools to provide us strength for lasting, faithful healings.  My intent has been one to provide facts, true tales of faith and inspiration… to give folks the chance to explore magnificent reports of Near Death Experiences, seek out documented NDEs, and take in my firsthand experienced signs… to give you tools from which you may craft a strong healing via sources you may not have been exposed to.

I wondered… had anyone joined me and launched the lit stick of acceptance… or that burning and dangerous stick of sorrow, into Lake Grief, or had I left them sitting in the boat holding onto something they wished they had not grabbed hold of?  I have shared some “out of this world” (in more ways than one) NDE stories told to me, suggested that you investigate similar tales from trusted friends and loved ones, research professional tales of NDEs…  I shared three signs (although the number exceeds three) I have experienced from our son, Patrick.   

And as I have suggested and told you all along, I live a life that is full of “coincidental” signs; I believe I live a divine life…  The moment I finished the tale above, I noticed I had a message from a friend, one acquired through the messages of The Grief Toolbox…. the very moment I finished the concluding sentence of the tale above…  Mark’s note read:

“I saw the preview of this book and thought I would share it with you...it's right along the lines of what you've been writing about lately.”  … The title of the book is, God and the Afterlife, of which he included excerpts.               

Mark, your message timing was impeccable!  Thank you for giving me an answer to my question and for turning me on to another source to explore relative to NDEs.  Thank you for joining me on the lake, considering what I have to share with you, and “giving it a try.”  I am honored by your actions and friendship, and I am so very hopeful you will find this grief journey as eye-opening and spiritually rewarding as I have/am… another life gift from my son, Patrick, who I believe was sent into my life as a life learning guide and teacher.   

“You can clutch the past so tightly to your chest that it leaves your arms too full to embrace the future.”                                                                                                                 Jan Glidewell  (1944 – 2013)

For the past seven weeks, I hope I have given some of you cause to give your stick of dynamite – your doubt, some of your grief – a toss so that you may “fish” in life.  If you and I had died, we would tell our loved ones to… forgive yourself of all guilt, all regrets and enjoy the time you have left.  We would want that for each and every one of those loved ones still alive… as those we have lost want for us.             

I have started nearly each entry for The Grief Toolbox with a paragraph similar to the following.  If you have read the previous articles, thank you for making the journey with me.  Please skip to the asterisk.  If this is your first article of mine that you have read… thank you for joining in:

This is my eighth article on life, death, grief, and signs.  To make sense of the journey I propose for you, I recommend that you, please, step through my articles in order.  They may be found at https://thegrieftoolbox.com/users/jamiepaulwesseler    I make this recommendation only because it is the journey this non-believer made to arrive where I am today in my belief and faith as to what happens to us when we die.  I am afraid that if you do not gradually grow into the knowledge of NDEs, the well documented happenings and studies I will present to you near the end of my writings may seem hard to accept… at least they would be for this author if I were dropped into the middle of what I am sharing with you over two months, especially the last segment.

Thank you for making the journey with me.  I hope that I may be of some help to you for considering the possibility of what we are told awaits us from those who have gone and returned…  I miss Patrick dearly… at times I just cannot stand not having him here… to hear his laugh, to benefit from his humor, to give him a hug; it is not that I have fully accepted losing him.  I think of him daily.

* Before we explore the higher layers of NDEs and discoveries made and reported by our professionals in the fields of neurosurgery and psychiatry, and before I reveal my divine archaeological “sign”/possibility… the writings of the next four weeks, I hope you have gained knowledge and faith that a spiritual realm is where our loved ones exist.  That does not mean we are any happier about not having those wonderful souls with us in our lives here on Earth. 
But, if you have not embraced or are not willing to consider the possibility of the subjects of the past seven weeks, you will not be secure in the messages and events shared in the next four weeks.

Without hope and faith, your soul, my soul will perish.  My friends and loved ones have come back from the next realm through their NDEs … and, sadly (for me), most have returned already.  People I do not know reported what my loved ones spoke of to me.  My wife and I have received undeniable signs from that realm from Patrick.

We are confident of an incredible next realm through a most magnificent “final” journey as we turn into the end of the lane (or head across to the distant shore of Lake Grief) with the magnificent souls we so love as we head and return home with them.

May God bless.

About the Author
Jamie Wesseler and his wife, Susan, lost their 31 year-old son, Patrick, in an auto accident in 2014. Through his writings for The Grief Toolbox, Jamie shares the soulful journeys he and his family have experienced before and after their loss. The spiritual journeys include true tales of near death experiences (as told to the author... what awaits us on the other side), interactions between a 15 month-old and her deceased uncle (the two had never met in life), a series of documented Tiger Swallowtail butterfly sightings (recurring signs from the other side), and an archaeological mystery of the sacred circle mound complexes built by the Hopewell culture of the Native North Americans at the time of Christ's birth (what may have inspired a cultural Renaissance just may be proof of a divine happening). Jamie's first novel, Where The Birds Go When It Rains, serves yet as another source of inspiration, hope, and insight for those of us who have lost a loved one -- a novel based on the life events shared with The Grief Toolbox family and the 1968 excavation of the sacred circle mound on the Bertsch farm north of Cambridge City, Indiana. As he writes in his tale... and personally uses as a source of strength through his healing for his loss of Patrick, "With the knowledge and presence of the circles, may you always have cause to possess faith. With "this" story (that of his first novel), may you always have cause to possess hope... faith and hope in the darkest of hours, if and when those moments arrive.
I'm Grieving, Now What?