Living with the Gift: Seeing, Hearing, and Communicating with Spirits
It’s not something I bring up casually. It’s not something I post about for attention or dramatics. But it’s as real to me as the air I breathe—this gift God placed in me, whether I asked for it or not.
I am a medium.
I see spirits.
I hear them.
I communicate with them.
And I do so through the lens of faith, grounded in prayer, discernment, and trust in God—not fear, not spectacle, and definitely not darkness. This isn’t a trick or a trend. It’s a spiritual sensitivity that has been a part of me since I was a child. And for years, I wrestled with it. I questioned it. I wondered if people would think I was crazy or worse—heretical.
But here’s the truth:
This gift is not satanic. It’s not unholy. It’s not some New Age detour.
It’s sacred.
It’s God-given.
And it’s wrapped in light.
What I Experience as a Medium
When I say I see spirits, I don’t mean I walk around like a character in a movie with ghosts popping out of every corner. It’s gentler than that. It’s quieter. It’s deeply intuitive. Sometimes I see a full presence near someone—like a loved one standing at their shoulder. Other times it’s an impression, a feeling, a phrase that settles in my heart and won’t leave until it’s spoken. Occasionally, I smell a familiar scent—perfume, tobacco, flowers—and I know without a doubt that someone is near.
These aren’t wandering souls stuck on earth. I want to be crystal clear on this: I believe the soul goes where God sends it—Heaven or Hell. That’s eternal. But the spirit—the emotional imprint, the memory, the echo of a person’s love—can show up in powerful, purposeful ways. Sometimes it’s for comfort. Sometimes for closure. Sometimes it’s simply to say, “I’m still with you.”
I Don’t Call Spirits. They Come When It’s Time.
I don’t conjure. I don’t summon. I don’t sit in dark rooms with candles asking the universe to bring someone through. That’s not what this is. I don’t chase spirits down. They come to me when they’re meant to. When God allows it. When someone here is hurting, searching, or holding on to questions they’ve never had the courage to say out loud.
And when they come—I listen. And if the Spirit nudges me to speak, I speak. But only after I pray. Only after I discern. Only when the message is meant to be shared.
Because communication with spirits is a sacred exchange. It’s not about me. It’s about healing. Hope. Grace. Peace.
The Emotional Weight of This Work
What many people don’t understand is how emotionally heavy this calling can be. When a spirit reaches out, I don’t just hear them—I feel them. I carry their grief. Their joy. Their regret. Their fierce love. And sometimes I feel the pain of the person receiving the message just as deeply.
I’ve cried over words that weren’t mine. I’ve felt heartbreak that didn’t belong to me. I’ve prayed in silence after a conversation ended, because I still felt the weight of what was shared. Being a medium doesn’t mean I float through life with perfect clarity—it means I feel more than most, and I have to stay grounded in prayer to not be overwhelmed.
This Is Not a Game. Discernment Is Everything.
You can’t walk in this gift without spiritual protection. That’s something I take very seriously. Before I ever allow myself to be open to the presence of a spirit, I pray. I ask the Holy Spirit to guard me. I ask God to filter everything through His will. And if something feels off—if the presence doesn’t bring peace—I walk away. I close the door. I do not entertain anything that doesn’t carry God’s light.
Scripture reminds us to test every spirit—and I do. Every time. This gift is not just about connection—it’s about responsibility. I don’t speak unless I’m told. I don’t deliver unless it’s meant to heal.
And if you’ve ever experienced something spiritual, you probably know the difference: when it’s from God, it doesn’t leave you anxious or afraid. It leaves you settled. Restored. Seen.
Being Misunderstood Comes with the Calling
There have been times people have walked away from me. Times I’ve been labeled, questioned, even condemned. And I get it. Some people are afraid of what they don’t understand. Others have been taught that anything spiritual outside of a church pew must be evil. But here’s the thing: I don’t need everyone’s approval. I just need God’s permission.
And I have it.
I stopped apologizing for this calling. I stopped shrinking to fit into someone else’s theology. I walk with this gift because I believe God gave it to me for a reason: to help people heal. To speak the love that lingers even after death. To remind others that we are never truly alone.
The Messages Are Real—and So Are the Signs
Most people miss the messages. They dismiss them as coincidence:
The song that comes on right when you think of someone
The bird that follows you home
The smell of your grandmother’s perfume
The dream that feels more like a conversation than imagination
The flicker of a light, the chill in a warm room, the dog that stares at a corner and won’t stop
These are not random. These are visits.
Gentle reminders from someone you’ve loved—and lost—trying to tell you they’re still nearby. Not as a soul, but as spirit. As presence. As love that refuses to die.
The Beauty of the Gift
The most powerful moments aren’t dramatic. They’re quiet. Sacred. A father who never got to say he was proud. A friend who needs to say, “I forgive you.” A child who simply wants their parent to know they’re okay.
Those moments have changed me. They’ve changed others. And they’ve confirmed again and again that what I do isn’t weird or dangerous—it’s holy.
I’ve seen healing that therapy couldn’t offer.
I’ve witnessed peace that came after years of torment.
And I’ve been reminded, time and again, that God can speak in ways we don’t expect.
Dr. Nick’s Final Reminder:
There is more happening around us than we can see. The spiritual world is not distant—it’s layered around us. Thin. Sacred.
And if you’ve ever felt someone with you—someone you’ve loved and lost—don’t brush it off.
If you’ve ever longed for one more moment, one more word, one more sign—be still. Listen. You might already be receiving it.
As a medium, I don’t offer predictions. I don’t claim to know everything. But I do know this:
Love doesn’t end with death.
And God doesn’t stop speaking just because the world gets loud.
Some messages are heard with the ears.
Others are felt in the soul.
And when the veil thins, and the spirit reaches through—sometimes it chooses someone like me to say what’s been waiting to be said.
And I’m honored—truly honored—to carry those words with grace, compassion, and light.
