I’m a kind of religious person, but more so a spiritual person, so I understand if you don’t believe what I’m saying.

My family has a very strong relationship to the church, and many of our ancestors were religious leaders, so we’ve managed to develop some very strong spiritual gifts. My father has the gift of tongues and now speaks nine different languages, to give you an idea of what I’m talking about.

My spiritual gifts have more to do with the dead and future. I inherited the gift of prophecy, which really isn’t all it’s made up to be, and things to do with souls and truth. I had a strong connection to people’s innermost emotions as a child, and could feel their souls inside them, but as a teen things kind of went downhill. I started having dreams of things that hadn’t happened yet and became paranoid, because I also suffered from vivid nightmares. I saw my father get deployed three months before he was told what was going to happen and I was living under coronavirus a month before it was even a thing. It’s not like I know can tell the future, but things like this used to happen every once in a while.

My connection to the church was strongest when I was around fifteen and I started to be able to feel when some people died. I’d just be living my life and out of the blue I’d feel this weight on my heart like nothing I’d felt before. It felt like grief, but tangible almost. It happened with nine different people and I was accurate to the minute.

I was terrified and felt I was responsible, so I tried to “fix” myself. I thought God was angry at me. The worst time was the death of my closest friend’s baby brother. I felt awful and did everything I could to make it right, because I thought it was my fault.

From there I devoted myself to the church even more and strengthened my connection to the dead more. I was able to sense spirits and even call them down in a way.

One night, I was doing my daily repenting for the death of the baby and I felt him next to me. I could feel his presence and I could see him, but I also couldn’t at the same time. I rambled for hours and apologized and he said it was all okay and put his hand on my shoulder. He wasn’t a child in death, but I could feel it was him.

That was the moment I started to heal, though it took a long while and I saw him a handful of times after that. He told me everything was alright and told me what heaven was like. I’d even carry messages to his family. Then one night he said it would be his last visit. I had healed by then and accepted his death. I was no longer haunted by it and had let go. I missed him, but I understood that it wouldn’t be long till I saw him again.

I started struggling with my relationship with the church again after a while. Up until recently I had been consumed by grief, but I now had the energy to accept my sexuality as a gay man. I haven’t been sure what to do, because I have beliefs on family, but I also can’t control how I feel. I pulled away from the church and my connection to my spiritual gifts was almost entirely severed, but a few weeks ago, I felt Wesley’s hand on my should again. I couldn’t see or hear him, but I could feel him saying everything is alright and it’s all going to work out one last time.

He’s been my guardian Angel and although I’m still struggling, I find comfort in knowing that everything will make sense some day.