A Journey to Seeking God, Real or Myth?

By Florence Gaspar Muzi

A true story and now a speaker of God’s love and his empowerment bringing one around not only to the love of God but to work towards the image of his son in obedience and love of the Father, the goal is to love one another as he so love’s us, yes, sometimes difficult.

I sit here in my little Eden – my backyard, I hear the mockingbird serenading in the background a gift from nature and God who has put joy back into my life and love. I comfortably write these words from witness of my children and myself; it is my hope that everyone that reads and witnesses God’s supernatural will share it with another and another and another; that we will speak freely the full story of witness.

Perhaps the atheists who believe they can do it alone and in their last moments of life call for a priest, suddenly there not sure God is real and there. A change of heart is different from a change of mind – – think.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Oct 20, 2020
• ISBN: 9781665500852

Book preview

© 2020 Florence Gaspar Muzi. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or

transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse  10/20/2020

ISBN: 978-1-6655-0086-9 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6655-0085-2 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2020918600

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in

this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views

expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the

views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Scripture quotations marked NIV are taken from the Holy Bible, New

International Version®. NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by International

Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved.

Contents

Dedication

Foreword

Anger Seeks God

The Interment

Seeking God at Grave Site

Sit, Pray, and, Listen

Write

Cabbages and Eggs

What The Mind Perceives, The Mind Believes

The Need for A Motivator

Meditation

The Self-Encountered

The Journey

How I learned

Every-Sunday Catholic

Search

Startling

Adaption

The Spirit World Continues

The Mountain House

Orthogenesis

Obedience or Will

Temptation and Fall

The Talking Serpent

The After Bite

Choosing Life, A Powerful Impulse

No Idea

The Dawning of the Subconscious

Eden to the New World

Thanksgiving

Humble

Conclusion

Woman

Acknowledgements

Dedication

To the best of life: Marisa, Larry, Ansley, and Macy.

You are my legacy and I am yours. I love you always.

Tyler, son of Matthew, you are not forgotten.

Foreword

We are limited not by our abilities, but by our vision.

–Abhishek Kumar

Sudden death leads me towards a journey of seeking God; how and where remains the foundation questions. Seeking God alive and real in the world will be mysticism carrying one through new and unrecognized territory where personal knowledge challenged what is lacking. As an every-Sunday go to church Catholic, admitting, I knew little about Bible scripture and church history, except for holidays, films, and a few classes. My knowledge was limited to walking up the church steps, sitting and listening (sometimes) in church.

This writing includes surprising, shocking, and breath taking supernatural visible events; unrecognized by this every-Sunday-Catholic and children believing it was the spirit of our suddenly deceased Carlo. Do all survivors witnessed the spirit world? It seemed believable as Matthew, 16-year-old son inferred, Dad’s here Mom?

Sudden death, walks through the valley of despair, caught off guard – – an awful time, that sucks the blood from your brain and your heart, limiting thought and action. Death is a time when manners sleep, and anger seeks answers-I blamed God. There was no doubt God was to blame. Why? Last night in novena’s petition, I gave God choice, to do what is best for me. Then a few hours later my husband was pronounce dead at the hospital.

With angers courage and the lack of supernatural knowledge, I set out to find God in the world. Was He real, or was He a myth?

Loss masked reality with the ambivalence of love and hate, setting the course realizing many humans left unsatisfied in petitions prayer requests may take the easiest path and walk away, as did the disciples witnessing the crucifixion, fearing for their lives. Petitioners today unanswered, may repeat the disciple’s behavior: to curse, hide, and even walk away from God and church. Then there are the imitators of Thomas, I will believe when I see him. Thomas upon witnessing the living Jesus says, My Lord and my God. John 20:28

Love of God was hard to digest when I was feeling anger with God; however, I am too inquisitive and too stubborn to just walk away. With the lack of the supernatural, and Scriptural knowledge proving God is real or history’s hangover myth, I began the search. Yes, I blamed God for death that followed my petition only a few hours later. Sudden death affects thought and action. Unresolved mourning festers like a wound needing treatment. This writing includes Breathless, shocking, and surprising supernatural visible events unrecognized by this every-day Catholic and children, who believed it was the spirit of their deceased father. Why not, never having witnessed the spirit world, it seemed believable as Matthew, our 16-year-old son constantly inferred, Dad’s here mom. And, I believed ghosts belonged in movies.

However, I too, believed Carlo had not crossed over I have never heard about the spirit world from the pulpit, Bible study groups, family, chat groups, not even at cocktail hours, and most certainly never from a house Bible that collected dust on the coffee table.

41832.png

Anger Seeks God

There is no certainty; there is only adventure. Even stars explode.

Roberto Assagio

It was the last evening of novena, also our anniversary. In Friday night’s petition, I thanked God for all the gifts that we were granted through the years, how happy we are with God’s favor and blessings. God, because I have always chosen, in closing and in last petition, I am thankful for all you have given us, therefore tonight, you choose what is best for me.

Hours later and undecipherable scream aroused all from sleep followed by earthquake vibrations of the house; jumping out of bed, I found Carlo laying still on the floor.

Not recognizing death or deaths pose, and his usual snoring as gasping for air, we quickly called 911.

An officer arrives asking, Do you know artificial respiration? Yes, I said. "But I cannot think right now so coach me.

I put my lips on Carlo’s to mouth breathe; when his lips reach up as in a kiss; not understanding this was a goodbye kiss.

The emergency squad arrived, they worked on him for short time then pulled out a black plastic bag zippering him inside, six men carried him down the steps and into the ambulance.

After quickly locking the door we followed in the car stopping at the parish house for the priest, meet us at the hospital. From the car, we called his brother to meet us at the hospital.

The priest arrived the same time as Johnny and Phyllis both asking, What happened?

I do not know, solemnly answering.

It seemed like he tripped and fell into the television pushing it off the stand into the window and then he manages somehow to get my side of the bed.

When vibrations shook the entire house, jumping up, there he laid face up on the floor.

The Hospital is noticeably quiet, six alone, waiting.

Time passed, noticing a doctor, and a nurse walking in our direction, they enter our room and announce, Mr. Muzi has died…

Noooo! Dad! Matt screams.

Dropping down in a squat trying to catch breath, absorbing the announcements jolt of death too fast and too young. The mind remembers children, I pop up we stand five magnetically together in a circle of tears.

There were no words for unprepared death too fast and too young.

Minutes passed.

Doctor said, Go in, and say goodbye to Mr. Muzi.

He is dead, he cannot talk. I snapped.

Please go in and say goodbye and take his ring off, said Doctor.

No! It is his ring; I am not taking it off. I said.

Doctor compassionately replied, If you don’t someone downstairs will and you will not have it, please.

Walking into Carlo’s room, he laid still, unusual for the vivacious Carlo, the five of us observe like mummies, speechless, lifeless, and humanly shocked. Johnny removed his ring, walking out he gently squeezes the new Widow’s hand with Carlo ring inside. No words were spoken just tears flowed freely like a waterfall.

Almost to the outside door, Doctor hollers,

Mrs. Muzi, Do you want an autopsy?

No, I replied.

You have to, he’s too young we need to be sure of the cause of death. said doctor.

Then why did you ask?

I signed the papers and we left the hospital.

41836.png

The Interment

‘"Be patient with your heart, be kind to yourself,

choose life and friends you are a new beginning."

Unknown

The next 48 hours was a whirlwind of contacts, decisions, and purchases. Carlo lay in state at church with Johnny and Matthew, our 16-year-old son, standing at the head of the casket greeting and accepting condolences from the people, Mass and burial followed.

After the interment and luncheon, family and friends came to the house, unrecognized anger starts with people’s comments:

"He is in God’s house. We wanted him in our house.

God does not close one door without opening another. Thoughts immediately recall the, Price is Right, open the wrong door, then what?

God does not give you more than you can carry,

The body was sore and stunned from the shock of death and the lack of sleep: I ask myself how these words were comforting. I ran upstairs changed to escape from the reality inside of well-meaning friends and supporters leaving them to a humble and gracious family. Do not ask a grieving person why, we are in separations denial from death too fast, and speak without careful thinking.

Outside in the once shared beautiful garden were Tropicana roses now dormant in winter’s season. I smiled with thoughts of their summer display in beautiful apricot and peach color, remembering Carlo’s smile dusting, and watering the roses pointing his finger at me looking through the window, for you.

I knelt fiddling over winter debris crying underneath a leafless apple tree with hearts sad whisper to Mother Earth. Tears fall audibly on the frigid ground. Frightfully confused by death’s unexpected bombshell facing Mother Earth’s as though God himself, was there listening

What were you thinking I meant in petition God?

Did you take his life, God?

Are you real or a legend, God?

Are you listening?

What’s best about death so young God, did you know I love him, the children too?" Speaking to the cold ground.

Tears fall audibly onto the frozen ground: something’s wrong. I wiped my face in my shirt while watching the ground; tears were still dripping from above a leafless apple tree. I caught a tear in my hand-it was wet. Tears continued falling to the ground from an empty and leafless tree. I stood up looking for Sap dripping or broken branches – nothing. The Apple tree was bare. It was winter, the drips continued, but; from who, where and why?

Now bewildered; "Oh, please God, the thought of his spirit sitting and listening on a tree branch is incomprehensible and alarming.

Looking up I begin speaking to an empty Apple tree, to the invisible with visible dripping tears, I cried, no. "No! I SHOUTED, not like this, I can’t see, touch, or hear you. I do not even know if this is real or like the 911 surprise – boom your dead.

What happened, Carlo?

Why did you die? Solemnly asking a crying tree or bodiless spirit.

Both sets of tears continued to drop visibly faster to the ground. Thinking this is insane, speaking to an empty tree without impairments, watermarks, cuts, or breaks.

I can’t live like this! No, I will not! Go away Carlo you are dead.

Tears from the tree flowed visibly faster hitting the ground audibly.

This is just like you Carlo; however, death is not a pleasant surprise.

Why did you die? I asked again.

Why are you sitting outside in the Apple tree, questioning the spirit.

Tears were now flowing even faster, asking, Carlo is your spirit in the tree?

Why are you still here?

I can’t sleep or eat at night I feel for you and you’re not there; but it’s too soon to believe you’re gone forever.

Repeatedly, asking the same questions.

Yes, I love you, but your dead and I am alive, this is an impossible relationship.

Questions need answers Carlo.

I refuse to live like this, when I can’t see you, or hear you, just tears.

This is creepy Carlo; you know I don’t like spirit tricks."

I walked inside, changed, and then joined company. Supporters and visitors were talking and laughing in memories shared with Carlo; but I was in death’s warp were memories were not comforting the reality of present death.

Another day outside sitting under the Holly tree; while the children slept when tears started again, dropping together as though they were coming from a pair of eyes.

I can’t see you, I said.

I can’t hear you, now unable to stifle my tears.

You can’t answer, please Carlo – go with God and leave us to deal with your death. Matthew appears at the door, Good morning, son, Matt cuts in saying, the tree is crying Mom."

I know son can you see anything?

No, nothing only tears.

I think they will stop if we go inside.

The children and I never witnessed the spirit world leaving thoughts of doubts and wishes at least in my mind. Was Carlo spirit present outside in the tree?

This was no ordinary incident for us the energy around the tears was sadness. I wonder in death’s shock was this real. Is there really life after death?

Once inside I started breakfast; Marisa came down for breakfast and we talked about going back to school Monday, there questions followed.

Was Dad sick Mom? Matthew asked.

‘Not to my knowledge,’ I answered.

What was the cause of Dad’s death mom?

A massive heart attack, I answer.

Will we be able to live here, Mom?

Yes, our working together will make it possible for me to return to work.

We will talk about the cooperation necessary later.

Finished with breakfast and there many questions, the children stand together asking one more question, Mom, do you believe in heaven?

No, I blurted unthinkingly. This was the unrecognized beginning of unbelief,

Their eyes begin to fill their heads drop then turn together running up upstairs.

Anger speaks yesterday subconscious pain; recognize it and you conquer. You have control rather than the consequence it causes. Do not ask a grieving person why? Separations unfathomable young death, too fast, and too soon speaks without careful thinking.

Their mirror reflection of articulated pain and disappointment hit like an unsuspected bolt of lightning, recognizing the hurtful word and emotional pain inflicted; thinking, if only words were on a fly rod I would real them back. However, they were out there, I followed both upstairs calling them together into Matthew’s bedroom. I shared my hurt and loneliness of missing Carlo. I explained, of course, there is a heaven and only now, with your father’s sudden death my thoughts are filled with pain and disappointment. There is no reason to speak without thinking. I am sorry I didn’t mean to hurt you; I love you both more than anything else in the