Ouija Connection and Consequences

While walking the seawall with one of my daughters recently, she recounted the lingering, uncomfortable consequences a friend of a friend was living with after using a Ouija board.  She described the unsettled energy this person was still experiencing weeks after "playing" with the board.  Since my daughter knew I had had a similar experience (I was in my early thirties, the same age as the person in question), she mentioned it with the hopes that I might be able to offer some support. Partway through this unusual conversation, we ran into an acquaintance of mine, a woman I see, maybe twice a year.  Our children had attended the same preschool over twenty-five years ago, but they had then gone on to attend separate schools.  After reintroducing this woman to my daughter and chitchatting for a couple minutes, we said our goodbyes. As my daughter and I resumed our walk, it suddenly occurred to me that this particular acquaintance was the one who had brought her Ouija board to our women's weekend away, which led to my profound experience with this questionable tool. Talk about uncanny timing!  All those years ago, we had thought it was just a game, but later realized it was nothing of the kind.  It had taken a couple of months of investigation and various remedies for me to finally feel like myself again.  Thankfully, today I was able to put the young woman in touch with a highly regarded healer who will help restore her to a positive state.  Fun and games, the Ouija board is not.      

Grave Secret

While awaiting a recent flight home.  Standing in line at airport security, after snaking back and forth between the numerous banded posts.  Noticing three men wind their way towards me.  Two in their late eighties, along with one of middle age.  Overhearing snippets of their conversation, as they pass by.  Learning two are father and son. Gleaning all three to be churchgoers.  The younger one mentioning how wonderful it is that he lives so close to his place of worship.  They then moving away from me, along the length of the line, only to return again. This time, in a grave voice, one of the older men revealing, "I kept it a secret until he died."  Arriving at the front of the line, I get waved up to place personal items on the conveyor belt.  Leaving the men behind, my mind does somersaults.  Who was it?  What was their relationship?  Was it church related?  Why did he feel it needed to be kept secret?  Were there unintended consequences?  What price did he pay?  I will never know the circumstances of this particular situation. My heart hoping he is at peace with it now.