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Conversations With Angels

Majid Ali, M.D.

In a dream, I delivered a baby in Lady Wellington Hospital, Lahore, Pakistan. As I prepared to tie and cut the umbilical cord with my blood-covered gloved hands, there was a sudden rustling sound and an angel materialized through a closed window. He approached the newborn and whispered in her right ear. I was mesmerized by the sight. As the angel rose to leave, I raised my gloved hand, mustered enough courage, and asked, "Prey, tell me, did you whisper in the newbornís ear?" The angel looked at me, a trifle startled, then spoke with a softening face, "I told this blessed soul not to seek approval from anyone except herself." Then he evaporated. What odd advice to a newly-delivered baby! I murmured to myself and returned to the umbilical cord.

                                     

                                  

What an interesting idea! I returned to the angel's words, unsure of what he might have meant. Then there was another rustling sound and another angel materialized through the other closed window, approached the newborn, and whispered in her left ear. I watched the angel, nearly as fascinated as with the first angel. As his wing flapped and lifted him, I asked him to tell me what he had whispered in the babyís ears. The second angel also smiled , gently touched my right shoulder with one of his wings, and spoke, "I told this blessed soul not to defend herself before anyone except herself." Then he was gone.

Before I could reflect on the meaning of all that, there was a third rustling sound and a third angel flew in through the ceiling. I looked up but found no hole in the ceiling. This angel also approached the baby and gently kissed the babyís forehead, right where I was told the Third Eye is. Now what? I murmured to myself. Ears are to hear and eyes to see. So what does this angel want the newborn to see with the Third Eye? As that angel spread his wings to rise, I asked him about the purpose of his visit and why the kiss on forehead.

"I told her to learn to see some things with her inner eye." The angel winked.

"See things with the Third Eye, is that it? Is that the pineal body stuff?" I persisted.

"Stick to your thing with the cord," the angel replied, seemingly in good humor.

"Seeing things with the inner eye, eh." I tried to tease him.

"When things do not make sense to the other two eyes," he spoke in a matter-of-fact way.

"When things do not make sense to the other two eyes." I repeated his words. "Isnít this stuff really premature for the just-born?"

"Is it?" the angel asked, his brow furrowing.

"The babyís eyes are not yet open. So if she sees anything, it will have to be with her inner eye," I went on, emboldened

"She is Divine, isnít she?" he turned his eyes back to the baby in my arms.

"Yes, she is beautiful. But, prey, tell me, what is Divine?"

"To be loving and sensitive. To feel othersí pain and be compassionate. To be be ethical, aware of oneís action on others."

"Wow! Loving and sensitive when eyes are too swollen to open. Compassionate when the cord is not yet tied. Ethical in a delivery room? Tall order, isnít it?" I suppressed my amusement.

"Go head, tie the cord and cut it," he ignored my bait.

"Just one more question, may I, please!"

"Go, young man, go. Ask your precious question," he grinned.

"What is God like?" I asked timidly.

"What is God like?" he repeated my question, evidently surprised by it. "Yes, what is God like?" I persisted. "I often wondering about it."

"What is God like? He is ..." The angel stopped in mid-sentence. His face turned somber.

He stared at me for several moments, as if divining what preoccupied my mind. I waited for his answer in silence. Moments passed. His face softened, then broke into a broad grin. I made a feeble attempt to smile back. Finally he spoke,

"God, my friend, is what he has eternally beenógood! Even when things do not make sense." The angel studied my face for a few moments and then sublimated in his white light.

I woke up and remembered my dream with amusement. My mind drifted to my patients with mental suffering. I wondered how much energy they had needlessly wasted seeking approval of others. How much anguish they had suffered pointlessly defending themselves to others. What price they had paid looking at the world around them through the eyes of others. I tried to imagine how different things might have been if indeed there were angels who regularly whispered their enlightening words to all people.

 

Healing Stories

Conversations With Angels

* I Don't want Dialysis

* The First Lupus Story

* The Second Lupus Story

* A Bullet for  Hypertension
*Conversations With *Angels
*The Bite of the Neck Muscles
*The Sword Story
*The Bite of the Grey Dog
*Why and How Do Not Matter

* One Coronary Stent for Each Inning

* Mouth Opened, Prescription Delivered

 

  Oxygen Stories             
* Oxygenstrories
* Sourmilk                   
* Sticky Cherries             
* Rancid Butter  
* Greasy Cooking Pot         
* Oxygen Detergent
* A Pothole on a street