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Yeshua (Eshuwa)

By Leila Briggs


Just like my mother, I would often play with Spirit out in the woods surrounding our farmhouse. My sister and a neighbor boy played with me. We had a special "routine" or "ritual" that would lead us to a great, big pine tree with logs underneath. My sister and I would sit on the logs under the pine branches. The neighbor boy would stand outside and let people in. They would join my sister and I, sitting on the logs with us and share about their lives.


There was one visitor that would frequent, who seemed... different to me. It was a man in his thirties.


One day, our grandfather popped his head under the pine tree. In an instant, my little kid brain suddenly understood, "this was not normal." My sister and I ran home in fear. Back at home we found my mother in tears. Her father had passed, our grandfather. We never went back to the pine tree again.


The man in his thirties continued to visit. He didn't need a pine tree. (Eventually other spirits followed him.) Reluctantly, I spoke with him. I realized he was different just in what he chose to discuss. So many would share their stories, however he would often encourage ME to share with him or support me in my deeper thoughts. He told me his name was, "Eshuwa."


Eshuwa put focus on my hands. He showed me, on more then one occasion, my hands could have a profound effect on the natural world around me, helping the natural world to grow and heal.



When I started catholic school, I noticed that the same type of "feeling" I would get in Eshuwa's presence was the same feeling I had when the nuns discussed Jesus. My brain started to see them as one in the same.


Eshuwa/Jesus would always come unbidden. He became the ultimate teacher to me. Never really giving me a direct answer; but always asking the right questions to encourage my authenticity. In the few moments he was direct, I listened.


In my junior year of highschool, I had a boyfriend who worked and volunteered in theatre. During one of the shows, he worked the reds (the big, red outer curtain the audience sees). The company did not supply him with gloves. After work, he came to visit me and he could barely open his hands. His hands were rope burned and sliced open. He had another show the following day. Eshuwa/Jesus was there immediately. He instructed me to hold my boyfriends hands. He told me to imagine his hands (my boyfriends) and mine enveloped in bright light. I did. I continued to imagine this throughout the night.


The next day I woke up with dark bruises across my palms, unable to easily move or open my hands. I went to my boyfriend's work to find his hands were significantly better (and he had gloves now)! I was in awe; but also frightened. In some ways I was proud I could help carry the weight of my partner's pain. In other ways it seemed a burden too hefty for my teenage brain to process.


This was one of the few times Eshuwa spoke with direct instructions.


Eshuwa/Jesus continued to visit me throughout my life (and still does). He came to me even when I declared myself a Atheist, after my father died. He watched me tear my Bible apart, line by line, determining it was written by man and not God. He came in the moments I had chosen to ignore and fight Spirit. He didn't shy from the darker moments. He was also there during some of the most Divine and joyous moments of my life thus far. I must be honest though, my version of Jesus is very different then religions view of him. He is something greater and someone more real to me. Someone more complex.




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2 Comments


Rayna
Rayna
Apr 11, 2023

You seriously have the coolest stories 😎

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triliaonline
triliaonline
Apr 11, 2023
Replying to

Thanks Rena! I was actually a little self-conscious about this one, so your comment helps. Plus, this is really nothing in terms of stories! Haha! Here's to hoping the adventures continue! For both of us 💞

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