Excerpt taken from "Good Ole Rotten Apples", pages 44 - 47

I didn't know it at the time, but the Devil was spoon-feeding me a bunch of garbage —those good ole rotten apples— and I loved every morsel. I watched videos and read books by the world-renowned psychics, Sylvia Browne, and Marianne Williamson and her New Age "Bible": "A Course in Miracles." I practically devoured these books and many more. And the New Age guru that was featured on many talk shows, Deepak Chopra —he was my idol.

I can remember feverously scanning the newest TV Guide for talk shows that would have yet another new age guru on that I could record on my old VCR. One day Oprah had the movie star, Shirley MacLaine, on. She was promoting her latest video. Of course I had it. She told Oprah about the seven light chakras and how wonderful they are. I knew them well. I was glued to the T.V. She had the whole audience doing some so-called relaxing meditation, and of course, me included.

I started getting deeper and deeper into this way of life. I needed more and more to satisfy me. I never could have enough of these very expensive mind-body-spirit-connection seminars all over the country. But then something happened.

I was at work and just doing my usual meditating, focusing on my light chakras that I learned from Shirley MacLaine's video, "Inner Workout," when a fellow worker of mine came up to me and said, "Judy, I really care about you. You have no idea what you are doing." I was very offended at her and asked her what she meant.

She said, "When you clear your mind in the dangerous way that you have been doing, you are opening yourself up for any spirit to come in. Please don't do this." She explained to me in detail how her brother did the same thing. She went on to say with tears in her eyes that it seemed so innocent to him, but the more he dabbled, the more he liked it, and it almost ruined his life.

At first I was mad at her. I thought to myself, "What does she mean ‘any spirit to come in?' I just don't understand. How dare she talk to me like that. Her brother just didn't know any better."

I went to bed that night, like I had for years, with my headphones on listening to my so-called "relaxing music." I woke up the next morning not feeling good at all. I threw up several times, and decided to stay home from work. I was lying on the couch flipping through the channels on the TV and the Montel Williams Show came on. And who did he have on that day but Sylvia Browne. She was a very familiar figure in my life. I had read many of her books. I was glued to the TV. I loved it. She was so fascinating; she talked about everything I had learned in my videos and books and expensive seminars that I had gone to over the years.

That day, Williams made an announcement that she was so overwhelmingly popular that she would be a regular on his show every Wednesday. The audience cheered and clapped with excitement —me included. So, needless to say, every Wednesday, I taped Montel's TV show so I could watch her when I came home from work.

One Wednesday eve, I was watching her and I heard her talk about the Ouija board being a portal. For some reason that word "portal" stuck in my mind.

There was a young lady by the name of Heather who was having some weird things happen in her home, and was trying to get some answers from a Ouija board. Things got worse. Thinking it might be the Ouija board, she decided to destroy it. She tried to break it in two. It would not break. Tried to burn it and it would not burn. There was a spirit that took over. Her friend, Sue, said her eye color even changed. I was on the edge of my seat wondering what would happen next. That's how hooked I was on this deception.

Finally the great Sylvia proclaimed, "I don't want anyone to mess with a Ouija board. They are the most dangerous things! Talk about a portal." She said, "What you need to do is sprinkle salt around the house and ask for the Christ consciousness." ("Red flag!") There was that word "Christ" again. Those words and the word "portal" seem to make me uncomfortable.

Then, one Wednesday evening...