Feature Articles

 

Affirmations and the Final Destination

by Anne Marie Evers

When I wrote the first edition of my book Affirmations: Your Passport to Happiness, I had no idea how often I would be rereading the chapter on death.

As I write this, it has been only three months since my second husband Roy passed away after a very short illness. It was a real shock to me, as I had been doing affirmations for him to get well and be healthy. The first two days after his passing, I was completely crushed. For that short time, I felt that I had lost my faith in the power of affirmations. I felt somehow that God had deserted me. That feeling of not believing, coupled with the grief of Roy's passing, brought me to my darkest hour. I felt deserted, abandoned, and completely confused.

It was two days before I took hold of myself and said, "Hey, Anne Marie, listen up! This is not what you teach others. You teach hope, even in the darkest of night. Now it is time to put that into practice." Slowly, I came out of the fog. Then came the questioning. "Why did he have to pass on now, just when things were so good and we were so happy? Why me, God? Why did I have to lose my husband when many of my older friends still have their relationships and marriages?"

The more I asked, the more confused I became. I wondered how I could teach others to deal with this devastating situation. The answer came loud and clear: I would teach them that there was a light at the end of the tunnel and give them hope and the courage to go on.

Then I started thinking about the progression of the events that took place. I realized that I was the one who was doing the affirmations for Roy's healing and health, not him. I also realized that I was not God and could not declare or predict how long a person should live. I was gently reminded of the Serenity Prayer. It played over and over in my mind, and helped me find my path.

When waiting at the doctor’s office for Roy just a week before he passed on, I was leafing through a magazine and came across an advertisement where the Serenity Prayer was written on a plate. It kept flashing at me. I tried to ignore it, but had a strange feeling that I should pay attention.

Once I accepted the Serenity Prayer and my other realizations, I was armed with hope, knowledge, and insight. I picked myself up off the floor and got to work doing the things I value and love, and carried on with hope.

I started using a powerful affirmation for acceptance of the death of a loved one that one of my readers had e-mailed me shortly after Roy died. I printed it and used it faithfully for two weeks. The same reader later sent me another e-mail asking how I liked the affirmation she had sent. She ended it by writing, "P.S.: Page l82 of your book!" I went back to my book and reread the chapter on death, "The Final Destination."

I was reminded that we never die; we merely change form. It is like going from one room to another. When we leave the planet we graduate to a new level, and are then enrolled in the heavenly university.

 I read my own words:

To grieve excessively weakens the mind and body. It does not help the person for whom you are grieving and can actually hinder his or her advancement on the other side. Sad thought-forms that reach the deceased can impede his or her spiritual development and growth.

Although grief is a real experience, it may also be an adjustment, a major change, or transition from what life once was to a new life that is just beginning. Grieving is work, and to work through what you are feeling and thinking takes time, energy, and a conscious, directed effort. When you experience too much sadness and constantly dwell on it, you begin a process that corrodes your body’s cells.

When you grieve for loved ones who have passed on, you are grieving for yourself, for your own loss, for not being able to see that loved one again in this lifetime. Though you may miss them terribly, it is important to release them so that they may get on with their new spiritual life.

Everyone who loses someone they love experiences the pain of grief and loss. This is a normal, healthy fact of life. The timeframe involved is different for every individual. We all react to a loved one’s death in a personal way. The grieving process could take six to eight months, or two, five, ten years or more. My own experience of grief — with the death of my previous spouses, mother, father, sister, and brother — taught me that the pain does lessen as time goes by. Time is a great healer.

When you lose that loved one, you lose their physical presence, but the relationship still exits. The loved one is still in your heart, mind, and consciousness.

I realized that I was not helping my husband by holding him here. As my friend suggested, I did the following exercise to let him go from page 182 of my book:

"I, Anne Marie Evers, deserve to be able to, and now do quickly and easily, adapt to life’s changes. I know I will miss Roy. I let him go with love and allow him to grow in his new life experience. I make the appropriate and right decisions and I think clearly. Every day I am filled with the healing and loving energy of God. I have great inner peace and strength. I give thanks to God for the happy memories of my life with Roy. I release Roy and let him go in peace and love to his highest good. I am free; he is free and released. I give myself permission to live and find happiness. I am peaceful and healed to the good of all parties concerned. Thank you, thank you, thank you."

I have also learned from past experiences that it is quite normal to feel guilty when someone you love dies. If you dig, you will uncover all types of negative thoughts along the lines of what you should or could have done differently while your loved one was alive. I do the following affirmation on releasing guilt surrounding a loved one’s death:

"I, Anne Marie Evers, deserve to start each day fresh. Yesterday and its problems are history. I forgive and absolve myself of all guilt. I make good decisions at the right time. I am free of guilt, worry, and self-condemnation. I heal quickly. All guilt, fear, and worry completely disappear. I keep only positive, loving thoughts and good memories of Roy. I am peaceful, to the good of all parties concerned. Thank you, thank you, thank you."

I found a grief therapist to help me deal with my feelings of loss. I am now coping, one day at a time, one hour at a time, and even one minute at a time. But the important thing is that I am making it, one baby step at a time. I am still teaching affirmations; praying with and counseling people; and speaking at events on the power of God, prayer, and affirmations. Most importantly, I have a renewed, closer relationship with God. I receive God’s strength and love on a daily, hourly basis, for which I am truly grateful. This, to me, is proof positive that prayers and affirmations really do work, even at the most difficult times in life. It is my hope to be an inspiration to others who are facing a loss.

I am continuing to conduct my counseling sessions, lectures and workshops, teaching the power of affirmations, and helping people on a one-on-one basis. My second book on relationships is almost ready for printing. I get up every morning and greet the day saying, "Thank you, thank you, thank you, God, for another glorious day, and please direct those to me whom I can help and guide along the way. I have hope!"

I am not ashamed if I burst out in tears when I hear a favorite song that was special to Roy and me. I am not afraid to show my emotions, even in public, and I am striving to be as patient with myself as I would be with one of my children. With the love and help of God, my strong belief system, my family, and many friends, I am coping one day at a time, one hour at a time, one minute at a time.

The Rev. Anne Marie Evers is an author, columnist, and radio/TV personality. She conducts workshops and seminars on the power of affirmations and positive thinking. She can be reached at (604) 988-9907, <annemarie@cardsoflife.com>, or 4559 Underwood Avenue, North Vancouver, B. C., V7K 2S3 Canada; contact her to join a support group for people that have recently lost loved ones.