Angelic Pathways Read Online Free PDF

work with a new attitude. But somewhere between matching accessories and trying on a new perfume, I left my brain on the dresser, for upon getting in the car, I decided not to wear my seatbelt lest I wrinkle my new suit. Instead, I decided to drive a bit more carefully.
    “Good morning.” Jake appeared from nowhere, as I sat in the usual rush-hour traffic. Whenever I was driving, he always appeared sitting in the center of the back seat.
    “I told you to go away and stay gone.”
    “Put your seatbelt on,” he said calmly.
    “Leave me alone, Jake. Go. Away.”
    “Put your seatbelt on right now and I promise I’ll leave.”
    “Fine,” I grumbled and clicked the belt in place. I looked up in the rearview mirror, scowling at him. “Happy now?”
    “Actually, yes. Thank you,” he replied, and that’s when I looked past him—or more like through him—and saw a car speeding toward me.
    It wasn’t stopping.
    I gripped the wheel tighter, held my breath, and braced myself as I heard a symphony of screeching tires on the road behind me, followed by the thunderous roar of metal impacting metal.
    I walked away from the collision with only whiplash. My poor Chevy wasn’t so lucky, as the impact had slammed my car into the one ahead of me. So much for my new attitude—it, my suit, and my car were now crumpled.
    Dejected, I called work and went home. The rest of the afternoon slowly passed before everything sank in. I played that morning over and over in my head. Coincidence? Dumb luck? I didn’t know what to call it. Later that evening, a friend recommended that I call it “simply a blessing.”
    A few days passed before I let Jake back into my life. I fought hard to move on without his presence. I tried to apply some semblance of logic to our relationship by thinking he was just an imaginary friend, or maybe he was just wishful thinking, or maybe he was me, a smarter me that I could never give myself credit for. All of those possibilities, however, were shattered by the numerous “coincidences” that seemed to follow on the heels of every other word Jake uttered. From the car accident, to strange encounters with people who would shape and mold my spiritual life, to unerringly accurate dreams and predictions, Jake had proven that he was the real thing.

    At this point one might think that Jake had been sent to wear me down and prepare me for my future connection to the archangels. Well, that would be a safe assumption. The angels, however, would get no warmer a reception from me than Jake did. In fact, I held their feet even closer to the fire because of the sheer power their presence exuded. Even though Jake was my spirit guide, his energies still felt very human to me. The angels, on the other hand, possessed a power that I was wholly unfamiliar with.
    Though I was raised with a solid Christian foundation, I wasn’t really taught to believe in angels. I viewed them merely as biblical figures that had gone the way of miracles like the parting of the Red Sea and turning water into wine—they no longer existed.
    Now as I look back at my youth, I wonder how it was so easy for me to dismiss God’s messengers when my entire childhood had been riddled with paranormal encounters. I had regularly spotted and interacted with the ghosts in my very haunted house. Accurate premonitions were common for me. But into my teens, all the paranormal activity seemed to stop despite my yearning to experiment with it.
    As a child, it had all frightened me. As a teenager, I found it intriguing. As a young adult, I simply thought myself crazy and unwilling to let go of an overactive imagination. The world of the paranormal was now affecting my life in a way that I truly wanted no part of. After all, I was burdened enough with my parents telling me what to do and how to live; I sure as hell didn’t want ghosts, angels, or anything else yelling at me.
    No, the last thing I wanted was for even more authoritative figures to try to control