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My Soul Remembers—7—AMERICA

I was more aware of my life in the invisible world, although I found myself eager to return to the visible plane again.

Life had been complicated, and I had destroyed several bodies.

Now, I must return to one and cleanse the temple as a fit habitat for eternal goodness — God.

I must learn to have an appreciation for that which God endowed me.

I must learn to trust the body and know that it is mine to build by my own thinking process.

I must go into every corner and remove the darkness, open the recesses of the subconscious and free the thoughts, begging for healing.

Yes, this I must do in order to obtain freedom.


During my time in the world of spirit, I gained new understanding and was better equipped to meed the demands of another incarnation.

I knew it would not be easy, but it must be done.

This time the early portion of my life was spent in Northern Europe, where I had all the advantages of culture.

I received instruction in the finest schools and was tutored by private teachers.

Life was beautiful, and I reaped the harvest of her planting.

With all her offerings, something in me looked to new horizons and freedom that I did not as yet know.

America, a new land, yes, America was calling me.

My family agreed if this were my desire they would furnish me with all the comforts within their power to give.

I accepted their generosity and started for a new land, a new life.


America is vast — a land of contrasts.

Her soil, a field of abundance, yielding to those who had the courage to enter into her willingness to supply.

She is a great country, making claims she often contradicts by her actions.

She, too, is a pupil and will learn her lessons as the individual citizen accepts his freedom.

America introduced me to her western states with the majestic mountains, placid lakes, and romping rivers.

Her great forests spoke of times I could only imagine as she whispered to the four winds.

I loved her and the purity of her untouched beauty.

America was my mother, and from her soil I wore her garment.

A garment of dust that one day I would shake from my real self but be the better for having worn it.


Life gave me a moody, thoughtful man, deliberate in his desire to make me an idol.

He worked tirelessly to give me what he thought I needed but never really awakened to my need.

He left me, never knowing my only need was to be needed.

We loved but with a detachment.

He could never quite let go of self long enough to give completely.

He was letting life push him rather than flow through him.

I did my best to be a comfort, meeting his needs to the best of my understanding.

Conception took place many times in my body, but none of the souls grew into maturity.

This was a cross not easy to bear, for I desired so deeply to give life to life.

I seemed to be a house through which souls passed as they were making a quick journey through life.

Sorrow gave birth to more sorrow, and six lives moved through me leaving the house empty.

My husband began to show the strain of toil and the drain of grief.

My life became a mental crutch upon which he walked and not lightly.

It was difficult to see him wear away.

Finally, life recalled him, and he left me to face the years alone.

I felt life had deserted me, and I was bitter, revengeful, and filled with self-pity.

I indulged in pretense, only to find life has a way of exposing even the most clever.


Life reimbursed me by sending into my experience a young homeless lad who became my son, by life giving to life.

Through him, God blessed my world, and the years passed with increased contentment.

There was a resurrected joy in me that began to shine forth, healing all the hurts and erasing names from tombstones.

This I was grateful for, knowing man is not of the earth but of heaven.

Tombstones are a market for unknowing people swayed by the race consciousness and in bondage to beliefs in destruction.

I tell you we are indestructible.

Yes, thank God, my soul remembers.


© 1972, by Richard Dale Billings
All rights reserved.
Reprinted with permission.