I know someone who has two autistic children. They do not speak; she calls them her strange angels. That phrase comes to mind this Christmas morning. It is raining and I just had a cup of coffee and some goodies from last night. Who, I pondered, are our “strange angels” and how do they bless us?

I am learning that there is a far different world out there than the everyday rational one crammed with ego nonsense. This year I am having that confirmed. In the first part of 2011 an online friend dreamed something that would happen in my future; I have never met her in person. What she dreamed of was my meeting with David, the handyman with the ability to see spirits. I also dreamt of him. And when he walked through my kitchen door, he knew at the first look into my face that something powerful was happening.

This same online friend found me the perfect masseuse by Googling up someone in my part of the metro area. She didn’t have my street address but found someone about five or six minutes from my house. This woman is able to sense spirits and told me that my daughter and husband were both there as she worked on me. “They want you to know they are alive and happy and they want you to be happy,” she said.

That is just two examples of how linked up we all are on a higher plane. When I count my blessings, those are my greatest ones, the ones that prove I can let go and let God.

All I have to give is my ability to receive. And gratitude pours out effortlessly when such connections are made. I didn’t contrive or arrange them. They just fell into place. My strange angel was my little girl, Laurie, who left the earth plane at the age of seven. Her brief sojourn blessed many people and this year there is evidence that she wants me to drop any heavy load I may be carrying. She is saying that it is all good.

Some of us are burdened in order to let in more light. It makes no sense. I had a nightmare last night where my late husband was going to be returned home after being in a facility of some kind. He was having mental problems and I dreaded having to do this. I woke up feeling anxious and stressed. There is subconscious material that arises in dreams when we are overtired or in dread. That always happens to me during the holidays. I am ready for a holiday from the holidays. In the meantime I look forward to more strange unfoldings in 2012. I hope you have some, too. Pax.