The most recent addition to my upcoming book, “Your Indelible Worth”:
In the Spring of 2009, I was walking home from a church service entitled, “Stations of the Cross” with my husband, Jere. It was the week of Easter, and this service was experiential in that it helped participants more fully realize what Jesus’ journey to the cross may have felt like for him. As we walked home contemplating the experience, Jere looked to me with a particular question that was perplexing him. He said, “What I don’t understand is why Jesus had to die such a painful death? Do you know?” Having no response, I could only shake my head and ponder the same question that baffled me as well.
It was a quiet and relaxing early Spring Day so we both decided to take a nap upon our return home. We rested peacefully on the soft bed of our Ohio home and drifted off to sleep. What happened next would awe and perplex me for many years to come. I was awakened to an experience in which I was present to witness Jesus carrying the cross up a hill on a dirt path. I felt myself amongst a crowd of people standing alongside the path jeering and yelling. I witnessed the entire event feeling as if I was right there, standing amongst the crowd, watching as he painstakingly stepped with the weight of the cross on his back. As He passed before me, I heard a voice speak to me as clearly as if it were right next to me. It said, “He had to die such a painful death so that my people would know there is nothing so terrible that they ever could do to me that would keep me from loving them. He had to die such a painful death so that you would know there is nothing that could keep me from loving you.” And then the voice repeated three times, “Tell them how much I love them. Tell them how much I love them. Tell them how much I love them.”
As I lay mesmerized in the experience and still watching Jesus move past me, I began to repeat to Jere exactly the words as I heard them. At this point I was not even aware if he was awake. I just noted to him that I now had the answer to his question, and I spoke the words as I heard them. Gradually I was pulled back to a more awakened state by the feeling of warmth on my face and body. As I came fully into the present moment, the sun spilled in through our bedroom window and glowed more brightly than I had ever felt before. It seemed to illuminate the entire space around us. I laid there soaking in the sun and felt a tear trickle down my face as I came to absorb the magnitude of the moment.
I laid in awe and wonderment awhile, trying to grasp the experience and the reality that it seemed God himself had just spoken directly to me. As the days passed, the thrill of this reality that the Creator of the Universe had spoken directly to me, turned to a deep, and longing question of, “How?” I found myself asking, “I get that you want me to tell people how much you love them, but how? Do I write it? Speak it? Is there some special way I should go about this?”
I made my best effort through me counseling work, retreats, and speaking engagements, however, I never really felt I was quite meeting the magnitude of the calling that had so clearly been delegated to me. It was not until January of 2019 that a friend introduced me to the teachings of Abraham Hicks. Now I was quite familiar with the concepts of The Law of Attraction as I had already published a guided journal centered on this law and the teachings of Jesus as I had found them to be one in the same. I found Abraham’s teachings to be extremely uplifting and validating.
What struck me most pointedly was Esther’s story of how Abraham came to speak through her. Esther’s experience resonated with my deep, inner knowing that God most likely had more to say to me and had, in fact, already communicated so clearly to me.
I began to follow Abraham’s advice most specifically and committed to meditating daily for 20 minutes. I also began with a clear intention to hear what God would have me hear and know what God would have me know. What rapidly followed most days of meditation were messages that felt like they were spoken directly to me in response to whatever state I found myself to be in, at the moment. They responded directly to every struggle I was facing and gave me clarity beyond my normal comprehension. These messages came to flow as an outpouring of love, support, and encouragement from Love Itself. The words flowed quickly and easily. I simply waited in meditation until I felt words forming and was compelled to pick up my pen and write. It soon dawned on me that I had finally allowed myself to receive the answer to my burning question, “How do you want me to tell them?” This is how these Messages of Love came to be.
While there were no visions that came this time with words, there did come amusing ironies as I came to see how badly I needed to hear these messages of love as much as anyone. I came to recognize these words could not possibly be of my own conscious writing since they were and remain answers to my own deepest questions and struggles. To this day, when I read them, they feel surprising and new each time. I marvel at how I could write such wisdom and still read it as though the author were someone else. I am now accepting more fully; it truly is someone else. It is Love Itself.
This morning it has come as no surprise, well a little surprise, to me that I was awakened at 5am with the first line of this introduction repeating itself and a strong compulsion to write. I got up in a daze, turned on my light, shocked to see the time, shuffled to the kitchen, bewildered at why I was up so early when I had most definitely planned to sleep in. I knew I was being summoned to begin writing. Thank goodness God is patiently persistent as I have found myself being led through much resistance and fear to allow this book to unfold. And you will soon come to see, Love Itself will gladly do the same for you. For these messages of love are meant for all of us.
With much love and peace,
~ Janine
Special thank you to Greg Rakozy (top photo) and Lars Kuczynski (bottom photo) on Unsplash for their beautiful photos.