Back on Path

I’ve been getting off path trying to make this something it’s not. Even writing letters in a sandbox (praying for God to do this or do that) is symbolically missing the point. I can’t choose what to author. I can only understand that a divine guidance taught me about the letters in the sand to help me see that MY BOOK buried in the hills of trash was a prophecy.

Here is one of the first videos I did to explain what I saw may be happening.

I say here that I am meant to write a book. I say it’s my purpose. I say that I’m telling what I know and have experienced and seen. Why am I not doing it? Why am I so scared to just do this project?

I was part of the script writing project of my life when I was with the council in Heaven. I wasn’t a victim to the story or a servant or a volunteer raising my hand to go into a horrific battle of a life on earth. We had a reason for every single day and every moment planned for my human experience.

I am not an enemy of God or a separate entity pleading for help. I am one with God. WE planned the story I’m living inside of. And maybe it’s time to just marvel at the amazing surprise artist that my higher self is aligned next to God and be excited that I get to walk inside of this script we made for me.

The point of the prophecy of the book Remember Skyla was to show me that I was going to lose my husband, write a book about it, go through hell, want to die even and then I’d fall in love again, go on a crazy journey and finally arrive at a book NOT WRITTEN by me where I’d be a character in a new chapter written by the pen of Love. I wouldn’t get to plot or plan or know what happens next, I’d be the reader in this second portion of my life here. I’d be the passenger on a plane directed by someone other than me. I would be the child on Christmas morning opening up gifts with no idea what’s inside until I unwrapped the package.

Life is a gift now. It’s a surprise. It’s not a struggle anymore or a fight or pleading on my knees for help from Heaven. This is my new chapter and I’m not the author anymore.

It’s time to enter into his rest and allow myself to not have to know what happens next but to be curious, excited about marveled by each thing he plans and sends my way.

I know I’m here. I’m in California. I was shown this is the place I was to go to where something magical would happen. So, now it’s time to see what that is – on surprise at a time. One present opened under the tree at a time.

OK… I think I’m going to go roller blading on the beach now in Venice.