There was a good satisfying feeling Thanksgiving night after being with the relatives and having a wonderful meal. I was going to leave the party earlier but had decided to stay and play bingo — lots of fun. I was on my way home to let the dogs out, and then I was off to my step-daughter’s. I drove into the garage, shutting the door as usual, and moved quickly and habitually into the house.
I was not thinking, but just present in the moment, when I heard strange sounds coming from the bedroom and lights were on. Moving quickly and alertly, I stood in the bedroom doorway shouting “What the h— are you doing here.”
I am an imposing figure at 6’5″ and the intruder jumped quickly across the bed trying to launch himself out the patio door window, but just bounced off. I moved around the bed to grab him, but he got around me. I went into the hallway in pursuit. The garage door was ajar. He was trapped. I charged him hoping to stop and subdue him. Still no thinking, no fear. He moved like a street fighter and ducked as I tried to body slam him. I tumbled over him as he crouched down. I got a piece of him, but not enough. I scrambled up off the floor and out the kicked-in front door.
There he was talking to an accomplice across the road above the parking lot. “Where did we park the car?”
With my first thought since entering the house, I decided to call 911. Going back into the house I breathlessly reported the burglary. I returned to the road looking for them. I noticed the burglar holding a pink pillowcase bulging at the bottom — my pillowcase. They started moving toward me and I thought, “What if they have a weapon?” I moved back into the house. I paused for a short time and went outside again to see them drive off in a white Olds with the lights turned off so I could not read the plates.
Surveying the damage
Back in the house, the bedroom was a mess. Still no fear, but thinking had returned. Drawers were open, things were scattered, cash and checks were missing, the bedroom lamp was broken. The police arrived quickly, but my ability to tell the story returned slowly. Pieces came out as they asked their questions. “What did he look like? How old was he? Were they driving a car? What did it look like?”
As I calmed down a little, I gave the information. I was understanding what the police must feel like after a hot pursuit.
Squad cars and a police helicopter were looking for the men. Shortly, the police radio reported an abandoned Olds and a captured subject found under the base of the freeway.
“Let’s go and see if he was the burglar.” Riding in the back of a police car was new to my tall frame. Barely fitting in, he took me to the freeway under the bridge to the waiting squad car.
“Was this the man?”
“Yes, it was him,” I said.
“OK, then.” We drove off.
A few blocks away, we pulled up at the end of a residential driveway. “Yes, that was the white Olds, same tail lights,” I said. We went back home to find the CSI person asking questions. She took photos of the rooms and footprints in the snow, gathered DNA samples and fingerprints. She found a cell phone on the bed that the burglar had dropped.
The larger picture
After she left, I was alone. I decided to do a channeling to ask my spirit helpers about this event. The larger picture was that I had pursued this person in another life and had killed him on the battlefield. This was the undoing of that event in that he got away with his life. Since that death, his lives and experiences on earth have been difficult. This now could change, because he was caught and would be offered the help he needed to turn his life around. I needed to receive some healing myself to remove the protective energetic breastplate that covered my heart. One cannot kill without protecting the heart, so I asked the spirit helpers to do their healing work on me. I was aware of my feelings in this experience of no judgment, just understanding and compassion for the burglar.
I was told in a reading that I had the next day that I was about 80 percent complete with the compassion and finished with the understanding, but the third thing that I needed to learn was that his soul was equal to mine. We all are equal. I had not thought of that. Yes, it is truth.
