Hey George! I don't know what
to do with him. He's there, and I'm looking at him in profile
-- What a handsome guy! If I was ten years younger! Hmmm!
-- but he's not looking at me, and he's not saying a word.
He seems to be awaiting orders, or something.
From an earlier post: Same guy. I see him more clearly now.
Looks to be about 30. Sharp features, well tanned. No facial
hair, and 6' tall I would say. I'm sure he's a Midwayer, like
you said. He oozes strength and personality. Hugs to you and
Sunny . . . Teresa.
George: It's only a theory of mine. Over the years, hundreds
of my theories have cracked like egg shells, or sprung really
big leaks. I learned to be careful, so I'm only telling you
what I think. It is this: Beyond the actual initial contact
of you receiving the 11:11 AM and 11:11 PM 'how-dee-dos,'
it's up to you to accept the Midwayer Helper/Teacher you are
being shown. He's also not in your living room. He could well
be on another continent, quite unaware of the presence of
your out-of-body Thought Adjuster, who has remained in communication
with your brain/mind, but is waiting for a clear signal from
Back in 1972 I was looking at the Chief (ABC-22) and he was
on sentinel duty, high up on a rocky outcrop in Kiowa/Comanche
territory (not Africa, as I first thought), and he did not
perceive my Thought Adjuster allowing me to see him in profile.
Not until I showed some interest did the Chief realize he
was being watched by me.
Some vague kind of confirmation came in about 1978, or later,
when my clinical efforts dealt with 'a veritable wave' of
attempted suicides and PTSD cases, and I grunted at three
of the Celestial crew, "Why d'ye pick on me?" Rightly
the reply was, "You picked us!" Oh, yeah! So I did!
With my Thought Adjuster as the intermediary, I had selected
that (likely already existing) 11:11 Emergency Platoon as
my Teachers. Too bad about the clinic's overload; it was my
share, and part of the platoon's regular business.
Many years later, I tricked a Morontia Companion to look
me in the eyes. It astounded me what I learned about that
sweet little guy and his friends during momentary eye contact
- a mere fleeting glance. The eyes are the mirrors of the
soul. They can tell you anything, and there's no reason why
you should have intimate details about "Mr. Handsome
Guy" if you don't speak up, or show some interest, not
misplaced fear. Free-will humans have the last say, Teresa.
And it's only just a wild theory of George Barnard.