More Planetary Help At Hand. |
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From the Desk of George Barnard A Never-ending Task. They are the Midwayers, Planetary Helpers, or Spirit Guardians. They exist in a ‘facet of time’ just outside the human range of vision, but they live and travel in our space. Their domain is called, ‘The Midway Realm’. Their 11:11 AM and 11:11 PM time prompts that are known worldwide are their ‘trademark’ courtesy calls. They are responsible for their actions to the Seraphim, and since every human on earth is under seraphic watchcare, the Midway workers are likely to turn up anywhere. They are opportunists. Wherever they can assist, they will. In some way. Filling A Need Or Escaping Reality. There was simply no way I could be a fulltime counselor. I needed to divide my time between the clinic, the factory and my family. Long hours in the clinic tended to make me take on too much of the wall-to-wall misery that kept knocking on the door. Perhaps it was both – the need for variety, and a respite from the burden of unending sad realities. It was good to regularly switch from finding people solutions to finding technical solutions, and vice versa. Any number of nearby counselors could take the extra load of patients from the Barnard clinic. One of these willing colleagues was Ian Francis, a mega-brain, with the right kind of mental/emotional armor to keep finding outside the box people solutions, for long hours and year after year. Spiritual Input. Over the decades, Ian and I had many discussions. He was a true friend who was accepting of people, even if they claimed to know a bunch of Spirit Guardians. Spirit Guardians were definitely not his deal. On occasions, Ian’s voice would change ever so slightly, and his normally fast speech would become a lot more rapid still. The new subject he broached would not in the least relate to the course of the previous conversation, but it would entail priceless information for me – reliably so. When told he had detailed the info too fast, and when requested to rephrase what he had just said, he would momentarily pause, then happily carry on with the more mundane subject we were discussing prior to that ‘unexpected outburst’. Those suddenly espoused ‘gems of truth’ were part of the life he lived, and he shared them around, oblivious of his generosity to patients and friends. Ian Francis wanted no Midwayers to ‘clutter up’ his fine offices, but he must have forgotten to so advise the 1,111 opportunists. Who knew just where to find him. © 11:11 Progress Group. |