Author: ECKANKAR

By Edith Wolf

Just before we moved to a new neighborhood, our family doctor passed away. We discovered there was a doctor living on our new street. Dr. H. had just opened his medical practice in his home. For the next twenty-five years, Dr. H. would be our family physician. I was his first patient.

And I would be his last.

One hot day in the summer of 2001, I suddenly felt severe chest pains. My husband insisted I see Dr. H. right away. His wife greeted me at the door. “Please come in. My husband will return shortly.” The doctor was returning by train from a medical conference in another city.

He arrived breathless from riding his bicycle from the train station. I could tell as soon as I saw him that something was wrong. He had no sooner entered his exam room than I heard a loud thud.

Mrs. H. and I rushed in to find him collapsed on the floor.

While his wife ran to call an ambulance, I began CPR, constantly calling on my inner teacher, the Mᴀʜᴀɴᴛᴀ, to help me do the right thing. It seemed forever before the paramedics arrived and took over. I stayed long enough to help Mrs. H. send waiting patients home. When her daughter arrived, I went home and told my husband of the afternoon’s events.

“What about your chest pains?” he asked, concerned.

I had completely forgotten about them. The pain was gone!

In gratitude. I sat in contemplation for a long time, singing HU, the beautiful love song to God. An hour later, our neighbor across the street called to tell me Dr. H. had died.

At four o’clock the next morning, I awoke confronted by an angry Dr. H. in his Astral body. Over the years, we had had many discussions about spiritual matters, but he had adamantly refused to accept there might be life after death. Now he was confused. I explained what had happened that afternoon—that he had died rather suddenly.

“But, I’m alive,” he said, visibly annoyed.

“Of course,” I replied. “Because there is no death for Soul. Life doesn’t end with the death of the body.”

“Well, why can I talk with you?” I didn’t have a ready answer for that, so I headed him off with a question of my own. “Are you alone?”

“No, there is a bright body of light next to me,” he replied. Encouraged, I began to explain a little to him about Soul. He listened attentively. “If you wish,” I said, “I can give you a key to continuing your life on the inner planes.”

“Oh yes,” he said.

I began to sing to him:

Soul, sing the HU, HU, HU.
Soul, search for the

   Mᴀʜᴀɴᴛᴀ, Mᴀʜᴀɴᴛᴀ, Mᴀʜᴀɴᴛᴀ.

Soul, go into the Light.

I sang until Dr. H. disappeared.

For two more nights, Dr. H. woke me up at 4:30 in the morning. The third night, he stood, very calm, by my bed. I said, “You have everything you need to go on now.” And for the third time I sang:

Soul, sing the HU, HU, HU.
Soul, search for the

   Mᴀʜᴀɴᴛᴀ, Mᴀʜᴀɴᴛᴀ, Mᴀʜᴀɴᴛᴀ.

Soul, go into the Light.

This time, full of devotion, Dr. H. sang with me. It was the last time I saw him.

I was deeply grateful to have the honor and privilege to repay Dr. H.’s twenty-five years of caring for our family’s medical needs by helping with his spiritual needs. I introduced him to my inner teacher, the Mᴀʜᴀɴᴛᴀ, and to HU, the key to the inner worlds.

By Mariota Percival

In contemplation I was standing on the beach with my husband. I was sobbing because he seemed to have lost his sparkle from the burdens of life. Somehow I knew he would find his own direction in time.

I bade him good-bye and sailed out to sea in a rowboat with the Mᴀʜᴀɴᴛᴀ, my inner guide. We landed on an island, where the Mᴀʜᴀɴᴛᴀ took me to a grotto. All the ECK Masters gathered around me singing HU.

The power of the HU song opened a tiny vent in the roof of the grotto, and a brilliant warm light poured onto me, causing my body to tingle. A bubble of trouble was released from my being. It drifted up through the vent and into the sky, where it exploded into a million tiny specks.

For a long time after I wrote down this Soul Travel experience, I wondered what it meant. But until August 28, 2002, I did not understand that the Mᴀʜᴀɴᴛᴀ was preparing me for what was to come.

On that date, my husband, Neil, who was manager of a timber company, was hijacked and killed by four unknown gunmen as he sat in his company truck on the edge of the Valley of a Thousand Hills, waiting to collect staff. The news plunged me into a nightmare.

My sons and I asked to be taken to the scene of the crime. My husband’s body was still lying on the side of the road while the police conducted their investigation. As I bent down to touch him and whisper a farewell HU to him, I became aware of someone standing next to me. It was Neil.

“That’s not me anymore,” he said. “Here I am, now.” He was calm and peaceful, with no trace of anger or resentment at the violence that had befallen him.

The next night, Neil appeared to me in a dream. He wanted me to play his favorite song by an Italian tenor—a song whose title, translated into English, is “All Love Is Revealed to Me.” The next morning we held a small family memorial in our garden, and I played his song. As the song ended, a whirlwind stirred the trees around us, sending a flock of birds soaring skyward. I rejoiced as I recognized Neil’s joy in his newfound freedom.

Unsure of how to proceed without my husband at my side, I wrote to my spiritual teacher, Sri Harold Klemp, and asked for guidance. I wanted particularly to release the karmic burden of two in-laws who had lived in our home for the past sixteen years. I mailed the letter on October 22, the start of the new spiritual year in Eᴄᴋᴀɴᴋᴀʀ. The new year would be the Year of Spiritual Healing.

Within a week, the in-laws had found another cottage, freeing us from the karmic ties that had bound us together for so long.

Sometime later, I attended an Eᴄᴋᴀɴᴋᴀʀ regional seminar in Cape Town. During one of the talks, a speaker said the most wonderful thing: “God waits for you within the problem. Instead of wondering, Why is this happening to me? ask, Why is this happening for me?”

That question gave me the deeper healing I had sought. I realized that true spiritual healing comes through loving service—giving and receiving divine love.

Through this shocking experience, the Mᴀʜᴀɴᴛᴀ showered me with blessings. My Soul Travel experience had come true. In the months that followed, the bubble of trouble was indeed released from me. Like the HU song, love and support came flooding in from family, friends, and community. Work came my way in great waves, and a five-year dream of settling in Cape Town was soon realized.

Filled with gratitude, I am finding that indeed, as the song said, “all love is revealed to me.”

By Mary Behr

My mother and I have always been very close. We spent the last years of her life together in homes we shared in Torquay, England, and Pullach, near Munich, Germany. Even though she was not a student of Eᴄᴋᴀɴᴋᴀʀ, Mother loved reading Sri Harold Klemp’s books. Sometimes, during the weekly ECK discussion group I held in Torquay, she would read aloud from them with her beautiful British voice.

In her eighty-seventh year she translated (died). I had once asked Sri Harold Klemp, the Mᴀʜᴀɴᴛᴀ, the Inner Master, if he could help my mom’s crossing into the other worlds, and he had accepted. Still, I was very sad, until months later when she appeared to me in a dream one night.

It was a very vivid dream I will never forget. Mom appeared younger and very happy. At first she just said, “Oh, my church won’t have me anymore.”

“Where are you now?” I asked her. “What are you doing?”

“Well, I go from one heaven to another,” she replied, “and each heaven has more love than the other.”

She was surprised that the scope of her former church ended at a certain point. And she had gone beyond that point to other heavenly worlds, some of the God Worlds of ECK.

Words cannot express how delighted I was! I was so happy and relieved my mom was in such a wonderful place. Where could one be happier than in the heavenly worlds of God?

The dream visit was such a blessing. I feel richly blessed to be on this path too.

By Helga Hoffmann

My father had a great fear of dying. I wanted to help him make the transition out of this life and worried that I wouldn’t be there when he chose to go. But soon after becoming a student of Eᴄᴋᴀɴᴋᴀʀ, I had a vivid inner experience that reassured me that I would be there to help him when the moment came.

In the experience, I was in a world of bright white light. The light was full of love. As I reached up toward the source, I heard my father’s voice.

“Helga, what is this? I’m so, afraid!”

“Don’t be,” I said. “This is the Light of God.”

About two years later, I was having a busy day of volunteering and running errands. The phone rang. My father had translated (died). I was stunned. Hadn’t Divine Spirit promised me that I would be with him?

According to my stepmother, my father had simply left in his sleep with a smile on his face. But I was distraught. I wanted to meet my father in the inner worlds—to hug him and say good-bye. Even if he didn’t need me, I still needed him.

Six months passed, and I had still not seen my father in my dreams or inner experiences. Then one day the Mᴀʜᴀɴᴛᴀ, my spiritual guide, took me in the inner worlds to where my parents’ house had stood. After my stepmother and I had sold it, the house had been torn down. When I arrived I was surprised to find some form of the house still visible, with transparent, walk-through walls.

Inside the house was my father. I hardly recognized him. Although he was ninety when he died, he now appeared to be in his thirties. I was so happy to see him.

“Can you tell me what has happened?” my father asked, bewildered. “I used to live here, but my wife has ripped the house down!”

It’s quite all right,” I assured him. “Your life is not here anymore.”

Suddenly he recognized me. “Is that you, Helga?”

We embraced, and I was finally able to say all the things that were in my heart.

“I love you too, Helga,” he said, hugging me.

As we talked, a white light flickered in my peripheral vision, moving ever closer. I turned my father toward the light, but he was so concerned with the life he’d left behind, he didn’t see it. Finally, I got his attention and again pointed him toward the light.

“This is where you have to go now,” I said.

“Helga, what’s this?” he asked. “I’m so afraid!”

I had heard these words before, and I knew what to say. “It’s all right, Father. This is the Light of God. It’s here to show you the way to your new life.” We embraced one last time, and then my father walked into the light.

The gratitude that filled me when I awoke is with me still. The promise of my inner experience of two years earlier had been fulfilled.