Divine Visits. Josie Varga

to you. You may ask what you will of these holy servants, and they will answer you. The Holiest of Holies will always be with you, as well as a host of angels assigned by God for your protection.” “We offer our service to you as well, Sunni, as you are being called to your mission, as we also are willing messengers and servants of our Lord. We give you lovingly our blessings in that which you have humbly volunteered and been chosen, and in His Holy Son's name—the Christ, and our Lord Jesus. We must now take our leave. Peace and love be with you.”

      As the last few sentences were spoken to me, I realized that the angels’ lights were beginning to move backward. They faded slightly as they floated back into the mirror from where they had come. By the end of the last phrase, “Peace and love be with you,” their bodies had faded completely and became the two brightest lights with smaller particles, sparkles, and flickers all around as when I had first noticed them coming out of my mirror. They drifted backwards as if being pulled by some unseen force. Needless to say, if people had walked into my room and seen the expression on my face, I don't know what they would have thought.

      I just stared into the nothingness of the mirror for several minutes before I dared move. Now I was able to see only my own stunned reflection staring back. When I was finally able to move, I went to my bathroom, and as I looked in the mirror, I splashed cold water on my face. I knew I would never forget the vision of the angels as it was burned into my mind in every respect. I knelt down and cried over and over again, “God, thy will be done.” With tears streaming down my face, I thanked and praised the Lord again and again for such an unbelievable and transforming gift!

      During the first several weeks after the angels’ visit, things were still not going well in my life. As always, as part of my daily prayer to God, I had asked for help with my own problems as well as those of my family and friends. It seemed to me that everyone I knew was in the same position as I or was very close to it. I had no prospects of a positive nature, and I was at my wits’ end. I went to God again. I should tell you that I have my own way of talking to God. I talk to him as though he is sitting with me wherever I am at the time. I talk to him in the same way I am speaking to you now through my writing.

      I was telling him I didn't understand why I couldn't find a day job that I'd be able to hold on to and why I was having so much trouble finding singing work because I knew my voice was a gift from him. Why was he not giving me the chance to use my gift as he had in the past? I said to God, “You know, Father, that I love singing as much as I love breathing. But if it is not in your plan for me to sing, then please just give me a good day job that I can feel productive in and I will do what you want. I want to do your will.”

      I continued to say that if he wanted me to let go of all my possessions, I would—most things of value were in hock at the pawn shop anyway and that if it was his will for me never to sing again or to use any of the other gifts he had given me, I would give those up as well. I asked him to please end my financial troubles and give me a job that was his will for me to do, so that I would again find joy in living on this earth. I said to God, “I submit completely to your will. What do you want me to do?”

      Let me backtrack a moment and tell you that my true conversion to Christ came in 1973 through my then in-laws Betty and Joe O'Banion. In the midst of all our problems, they helped me understand that I should “let go and let God.” I had been a believer from my childhood, but in name only. I had not actually given my life over to God on a day-to-day basis to let his word and his healing direct my life. I finally realized that there was only so much I could do alone and that if I wanted to be able to face obstacles and challenges, I would need a spiritual anchor. I use the term anchor because I believe that God is not a crutch as some may feel. I give credit to God at all times for helping me handle whatever is happening even though there have been times I was sure he couldn't have been there with me when I was going through what I thought was more than I could handle. And I told him so many times.

      I went to church as much as I could for many years. I would study the Bible when I could, either alone with tapes or with groups of people. But I was not a handing-out-pamphlets, witnessing-to-strangers, and praising-the-Lord type of Christian. I was not comfortable with the charismatic Christian behavior of raising my hands to the Lord. Nor was I ever able to be taken over by the Holy Spirit and speak in tongues—no matter how many times I pleaded. I still, however, had an abiding faith through all things that befell me that “all things work together for good for those who love God.” (Romans 8:28) And I knew I most certainly loved God. Sooner or later it would all be all right.

      Back to the present…As the days went on, I kept trying to find work. Friends were making sure that I ate at least as well as my pets. They were giving me money for gas for my car though I hadn't been able to afford the smog certificate, registration, or auto insurance. I also prayed that I would not be caught by the police and lose my license or worse yet, have an accident of any type while I was out trying to find work. The saying “When it rains, it pours” has applied to me on more than one occasion. I continued to hang in there as I always had and kept thanking God for what I did have. And then it happened!

      The date was October 20, 1994, and I was at home. Things hadn't changed much. It had been approximately two or three weeks since I'd prayed the “I wish you'd take me” prayer. I was lying in bed at 10 p.m., writing my thoughts in a journal. (I have done this for years as a way to express my feelings, to sort things out, to let go of anger, to ask questions that I have no answers for, and generally just to vent.)

      As I started my third paragraph, I stopped to think. My hand was still on the paper, but I hadn't yet formulated what I wanted to write next. All of a sudden my hand began to move by itself, and I watched in wonder as it spelled out in capital letters “IMMORTAL MAN.” The next thing I knew, my hand and arm crossed the paper and wrote “LaurahereandTomYoungertoo.” The words were not separated. They were grouped together in one long, smooth sentence. There was no punctuation. I couldn't believe my eyes.

      I began to pray out loud, “Lord God in Heaven, please let whatever is happening here be of you and from you. I pray this in your son's name.” Then I remembered the words of the angels: “Your mission and service to the Creator will be forthcoming and will be prepared for you by the angels who will soon follow us and come to you.” The handwriting continued: “We are the ones the angels of God told you (Sunni) would bring you your mission.”

      Since I was a born-again Christian, I knew that a spiritual gift like this one could also come from evil forces. I enlisted the help of a pastor friend of mine to test these spirits. Together for a period of over two months, we rebuked them in Jesus’ name and asked them questions from Scripture. Only after this testing did we become fully convinced that they were, indeed, angels of God. What also helped to convince us was that these angels themselves told me that each time I allow them to use my hand I must first test them as Scripture indicates (1 John 4:1-3). At last, fully satisfied and with the blessing of my pastor friend, I gave myself over to God, his son Jesus, and the Holy Spirit.

      The gifts the Lord has blessed me with since that time back in 1994 now include automatic writing, clairaudience, discernment, and the ability to call in a specific spirit for a session. Over the years hundreds of the bereaved have been greatly comforted by communicating with their loved ones through my God-given gifts. I feel so fulfilled, blessed, and humbled by it all.

The Face of Jesus

       Anthony “Bo” DeCarbo Sr.

      Pennsylvania

      The day started out like any other. I lived a very hectic, active lifestyle in September 2000. In addition to my job as a full-time dispatcher with the Pennsylvania State Police, I was also a crematorium manager for my cousin's funeral home and kept busy volunteering at my church. There were never enough hours in the day.

      But my life would soon come to an unexpected halt. When I was leaving my job as a dispatcher on September 25, a co-worker remarked, “I'll see you tonight.” To this I replied, “If God wants us to.” To this day, I don't know why I said this. But looking back, it is obvious that this was a premonition of sorts. The