Messages Through Time

An Unusual Book

The other day I received a book of my family history written by a second cousin who has been researching our roots for over twenty years. After dozens of trips to libraries, actual homesteads in Colorado and Wisconsin, and a trip to their country of origin, Germany…she put it altogether in a privately printed hard cover book that she sent to the interested family members she was aware of.

When I received this book I delightedly thumbed through the history and photos of all the people and places, it fills in the gaps and provides the background that my memories of sitting and listening to my maternal grandmother recall her family needed to re-create their lives. But also a part of me was alert to just how significant the timing of something like this is…I got quiet inside and listened to my blood stir.

The Wrong Ernst

The next morning during meditations I visited my great, great, grandfather Ernst. I asked an angel to help us meet (out of respect for the fact that he was a very strict Methodist in life). He answered my questions in stoic German fashion (sitting straight backed in an uncomfortable looking wood chair, dressed in a suit with his hands placed firmly on his knees). During this meeting a swirl of grayish-blue energy began to whish about the room wildly…as I followed its movement, my great, great grandfather looked toward it mildly with no change of expression whatsoever.

This grayish-blue swirl had a definite ’spirit’ energy so I asked it to identify itself. It simply said, “I’m the Ernst you want. I have a message for you.” I knew immediately that this was my great grandfather Ernest. Slightly puzzled by this inconsistency in his name, I pushed past it and prepared to open myself to hear what he had to say. I discovered a few days later that his real name was Ernst (before it was Americanized by a first grade teacher due to the World Wars and hostilities toward German-Americans at the time).

Once he had my full attention he started sending me images. The first he sent was a picture of an airplane flying and then an old train running on a track. The image shifted to a landmark I recognized, panning around the unmistakable flat-topped beauty of Grand Mesa, CO before focusing in on a farm which he had imprinted with a heart. He showed me a wooden box sitting in front of a small house. The top of the box was not completely flat, he drew my attention to that and showed me how it bowed upward slightly, then he switched my focus to a large, distinct brass latch, and the metal on the corners of the box. He showed me the box opening and though I could not see anything inside I was experiencing the overwhelming sense of treasure…of something wonderful and undiscovered, then he whispered, go…get the box and left me with the feeling of being engulfed by one of my grandmother’s hugs.

My spiritual nostrils were filled with her comforting and familiar scent (something that has set me at ease since I was a child), and then in a flash he was gone and I was left staring into the eyes my great, great grandfather who was still sitting in the uncomfortable wood chair. In silent communication we both knew that the real purpose for our contact had been fulfilled, so I thanked him and the angel who had assisted me in connecting with him and they took their leave. Though Ernest was gone I could still feel his presence so when the others left the room I quietly assured him with…o.k., I get it…I’ll go.

The Mysterious Box

I wasn’t sure at first what all the messages meant but I knew I needed to plan a trip to travel to Colorado and go visit my grandmother in the nursing home. Of that much I was certain, so first I checked train prices. This route didn’t feel right because the prices were so high, so I decided to check on the other image and see about traveling by plane. I found that several airlines had some really good deals going around my grandma’s birthday…again I did not find this coincidental. While checking in with my aunt who lives near my grandmother and looks after her, I uncovered another piece of the puzzle.

She had also received the book from our cousin and during the course of the conversation I told her about my meditation, the box I was shown and how this spurred me to plan the trip. She asked me if I had ever seen Ernest’s old travel trunk. I indicated that I had not and she quickly told me the story of his wood travel trunk and how after he died it fell into my grandmother’s possession (my aunt suspected this was the same trunk he used to travel on the train to their homestead in Cedaredge when he was fourteen…which explained a lot of the other imagery I was shown).

My grandmother tried to bring it home but my grandfather would not allow it in the house (he was convinced Ernest’s spirit was living in the trunk) and since they had not gotten on well while Ernest was alive he was not interested in seeing how it would play out now that he was dead.

Eventually the trunk ended up in storage in my aunt’s ex-husband’s barn…my aunt was left wondering if she should try to get it back (her son and her ex-husband were currently not on speaking terms so she was uncertain how receptive he would be to letting her come and get the trunk). I told her that it is impossible to know what will unfold but one thing is certain…the trunk played a significant role in Ernest’s communication with me and he wants us to try to get it back.

The Nature of Spiritual Assignments

The next day in meditation I spoke with Ernest again. This time he was calm. He appeared as his younger self, sitting back in his chair with his arms folded across his chest and one leg propped up on the opposite knee while thoughtfully holding a pipe. I asked him more questions to which he said simply that he would not say more until I went on my trip to Colorado…then he returned his gaze to the window as if passing the time.

It is the nature of spiritual assignments to come in segments. You get the first task and you must complete it before you will be given the next. The hardest part of this process is trust…it is difficult to take action on blind faith at first but once you have done it enough it is hard to imagine not taking action.

What’s in a Name?

I am descended from a line of German immigrants. They were carpenters, farmers, blacksmiths and clergymen. Their names can be found as far back as the 1600’s in the church records of the German towns in which they lived and they built a church in nearly every town they settled in after immigrating. Eventually they bought some land in Cedaredge, CO. After clearing, improving, building and planting they created a very successful orchard and packing business that gave employment to much of the town.

I’ve heard their stories for a good part of my early life and having met some of them I can see a connection to and understand the meaning of their last name; a proud or high spirited person…it’s this spiritedness that connects us. I feel the connection down to my higher self and in their lives I see reflected some of the reasons I chose to incarnate through this family.

Comments

By K-L Masina | Are you Conscious? on July 4th, 2007 at 7:15 pm

I was so engrossed in your story and I got to the end and thought… where’s the rest? What happened? What’s in the trunk? Did I miss the more tag???

But I guess that’s all it’s up to right now!

Wonderful, wonderful story. I love hearing about other people’s experiences of spirit.

Can’t WAIT to get the next installment (and so GLAD I subscribed after finding you via the interview you did of Slade.)

Much joy,
KL

By Paula Kawal on July 5th, 2007 at 6:06 am

Hi K-L,

Thanks so much for subscribing! You are right…that’s all there is until I take my trip out to Colorado. I will definitely post a follow up entry after the trip

Much love,

PK

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