Negev Desert

Picture credited to the Israeli Ministry of Tourism (

Get Me on the Bus!

There is a Russian saying that goes something like this: “Those who got burned by a hot milk will spend their lives blowing air on the water.” I was about to find out how true that can be.

On our way from the Dead Sea to Eilat, I did not see anything as I was sitting on the floor all the way. The only thing I remember was the sun on my face and the feeling as if I was melting as an ice cream on a cone. It was a very memorable drive till today, let me just say that

Therefore, I was determined on our way back to avoid the sun as much as possible. I was sincerely fixed on this idea, of not having the sun staring at me for the next five to six hours.

The driving distance between Eilat and Tel Aviv is about 225 miles or 360 km. Part of the driving is through the Negev Desert. It is a narrow and winding road that goes uphill with a beautiful landscape around. The Negev Desert stretches from the southern tip of Israel (Eilat) and then covers the entire southern half of the country.

The desert comes with a rich biblical history and many stories to tell. But not here and not right now. It still has a large portion of land that is nothing but a desolate desert. However, the future holds many new developments there. At least that’s what I heard.

Taking all that into consideration, I told my husband about 100 times that he must be sure that the sun is not on my side. That is why after cutting our stay in Eilat short, we checked out the next morning very early and headed to the bus station. We were ready to get on the first bus to Tel Aviv. We were first in line too. Terrific, is it not?

We waited for about ten minutes before the freshly cleaned bus stopped in front of us. Having learned about the positions of the sun, I was very careful about which side to sit on.

Since my husband and I came really early, we were first to enter the bus, and I thought that our luck had finally changed. We were able to sit on comfortable seats and on the right side of the bus. That alone felt so good! We were ready to roll. Tel Aviv, here we come.

Avoiding Bad Experience: Does It Work?

The drive from Eilat to Tel Aviv should be about five to six hours. However, from the first moment the bus started to move, I felt really weird. Something was missing. Something felt off.

It took me about 15–20 minutes to realize that there was no air coming into the bus. Since I was sitting very close to the driver, I asked him if the air conditioner was off.

He looked at me and said that the air conditioner was not off. It was just not working. What?

“Can you make it work?” I asked. 

“No,” he calmly replied, “it’s broken.”

“Are you saying that we have to drive for five to six hours without air? Totally has to be over 100F again.”

“Yep,” he said. “No air.” The bus kept going farther and farther from the bus station.

I sat silently for a moment thinking what to do next. Then I broke the news and voiced my concern to everyone on the bus by saying that we will have no air conditioner since it’s totally broken.

“How can we survive a five-hour bus trip under more than 100 degrees without an air-conditioning?” I asked.

Everyone started to talk at the same time. Some felt that we should continue, and some wanted to go back and change the bus. Then opinions became separated between locals and tourists. The tourists wanted to go back and change the bus. The locals wanted to continue.

I don’t know what came over me, as what took place next was totally out of the ordinary for me.

Maybe it was the memory of me sitting on the ground under the sun waiting for the bus or sitting on the floor of the bus with the sun on my face. Or something outside of me was possessing me. Who knows? Whatever it was, it was not me. Not “regular,” “normal” me anyway.

I leaped from my seat to the middle of the aisle and loudly but calmly said something like this:

“No, people. We are not going to drive without air-conditioning.”

Now I was in the center of the bus with everyone staring at me! And I felt right at home. Very comfortable and very calm. I must be out of my mind.

(I was in charge of the situation, and I knew it too. Who put me in charge? Who put me in charge of the Israeli bus? Oy vey . . .)

Then I turned around, looked firmly at the driver, and said, “Turn the bus around and get us a good bus.”

The driver looked back at me and tried to argue. “I am on a schedule,” he said.

(Oh well. I already knew very well how schedules could be changed. Hello! The bus at the Dead Sea. Where was their schedule? Right?)

“Did you know that the air-conditioning was broken when you picked up the bus and then us?” I asked him.

“Yes,” he answered.

“The moment you failed to tell us about the broken air-conditioning, and the moment you drove this bus—you missed your chances to follow a schedule. Turn around and do what you should do: to take care of the people you are responsible for.”

He stopped arguing and turned the bus around going back to Eilat. I went back to my seat. Everyone was quiet. No one challenged me. Oh boy!

Shortly, we were back in Eilat. On the bus station. We unloaded all our stuff and waited for another bus to arrive. In 30 minutes or so, our driver showed up with a different bus.

As we were taking our seats, I told the driver that I am thankful that he is taking care of the people who are under his care. And that he was able to get another bus for us that fast.

He just softly smiled back. Everyone went back to their seats, and we started our journey again.

Not Again!

We slowly started to drive from Eilat to Tel Aviv. For the most of part, we were driving uphill. I was glued to the window. I was absolutely captivated by the scenery and lost in my thoughts.

For a change, I was feeling comfortable, with the cool air coming out and the sun being far away from my face. What else can you ask for?

At some point between Dimona and Be’er Sheva, the road became very steep, so narrow and so winding. As we were making a wide sharp turn, the bus suddenly made a weird noise, stopped, and started to roll back.

The driver was able to break the bus movement as we were just kept rolling backward. We ended up stopping at the edge of the turn of the road.

What it meant is that other cars behind us would not be able see us until they reached the top of the road. It was a very dangerous position to be in. Yet here we were. The driver left the bus and started to look at something inside the guts of the bus. I watched the expressions on his face, and it did not look good.

Five to ten minutes later, he said, “We cannot proceed. The motor died, and we ran out of water.”

We were stuck in the middle of the desert. It was getting really hot. People started to ask him about what we were going to do. And about our options.

He said he was going to contact the central bus station and have a new bus sent over. For now we have to wait.

We asked him, “How long do you think we would wait?”

“I don’t know. It depended on when another bus will become available,” he answered. 

I could not help but wonder what would have happened if I had not intervened and we did not change the bus. I wondered if I was responsible for this mess. Was I? Should I feel guilty? How would that help?

Then I started to wonder why this happened. Is this a part of what I have to learn? So G-d has a plan for me after all. What was his plan? Why am I here? What is the plan?

Why am I here? In the middle of nowhere . . . desert? Melting again!

I tried to see the guiding hand and the sequence of events that took place over the whole saga of our trip to the Red Sea. It only made me nervous.

People started to leave the bus and were spreading around trying to find shades to shield themselves from the heat of the sun. Some of the locals went to the middle of the road and tried to catch a ride. Some of them did. Few cars stopped and picked up few.

A police car stopped. Talked with the driver and then for about 30 minutes was guarding us. Then he left too. One of the passengers, with a long blonde hair that was collected on the side of his head, who looked like a hippie, pulled his guitar and started to play.

I too could not sit any longer on the bus. It was getting really hot. The air from outside was not coming any longer. The wind must have changed its direction.

Without saying anything to my husband, I left the bus and crossed the road to the other side. I wanted to be away from everyone. I wanted to be alone.


My Desert of Death

After crossing the road, I ended up in the middle of a breathtaking view. I was literally shocked by what I saw. It happened to be that the bus broke down and was stopped at a place that had a panoramic view of the desert. And what a view that was! Words pale in comparison to the majestic and grand view of the desert.

I felt as if I was in a theater balcony looking in the stage from the top and waiting for a performance. And I was not left disappointed. Right there, the most profound experience was about to unfold and bring up changes that are still in effect today.

One of the things that shook me to the bones right away was the fact that my vision of the Desert of Death and this Negev Desert looked exactly the same. It had the same colors of red and brown. It had the same rocks. The same mystery. They were the same. How can that be?

Needless to say, I was absolutely hypnotized. My two realities collided. My vision that hunted me every day became a reality in front of my eyes.

Now I knew for sure that I was not “imagining” or “hallucinating.” Now I knew that what I saw indeed existed.

Now I knew without any doubt that what were sent to me in my visions or dreams or by any other means were indeed messages, glimpses, and guidelines that were true and real no matter how translucent, esoteric, they were.

Yes, they were coming from and belonged to another realm, another reality, another world. But here we had an imprint of that too. How extraordinary it is to be a witness of that.

However, that was not it. Something else took place. What I experienced next was similar to standing next to a speaker blasting loud music at some party or rock concert.

Do you know what I am talking about? You know when the speakers are so large and powerful and the music is so loud that if you are staying close to them you can feel the vibration of the sound within your body? That’s exactly how I felt.

My entire body could feel the vibrations. I felt a sound coming not only into my mind or ears, but also through my entire body. I did not know exactly where the music was coming other than it came from the bottom of the desert and I was right in the middle of it.

Then within that vibration of music, I heard a voice saying the following: “Everything is a lie. Everything is a lie. Everything that you were told was a lie.”

The vibration in my body was increasing and became so strong and severe that I felt as if something was breaking down inside my body and falling down piece by piece. It felt to me as if I had been cast inside a stone or a crust or a mold, and now I was slowly being freed by the power of that vibration.

Something inside of me died. Crushed. Released me. Left me. Freed me.

Out of the Prison

Imagine yourself throughout your life being cast into a shell that is made of ideological ideas, political views, someone else’s value system, etc. Everything that is a part of the brainwashing system and indoctrination machine in the society that you are born into.

And depends on where you live and was raised as it becomes a part of your own belief system whether you like it or not, aware of it or not. In the end, we are all sponges, and we are the products of our culture, and its message crawls within that web of political structure.

We even not notice it. We are not aware of it. At least not all of it. That web that is made of thoughts and beliefs and values swallows us as a monster. We become a part of its darkness and a part of its functioning system. Its food.

We become imprisoned by it. Cast into the web and its sticky cocoon. That is invisible to our eyes. Not always. Not entirely.

And we become a part of it, and we start to depend on it. It becomes our defense system, our way of dealing with the world. Our shades through which we now hear and see and process and act in life. 

The vibration that I was feeling was chipping away my shell, crushing down that invisible web until it all fell down. Then the intensity started to slow down . . .  leaving me feeling naked, unprotected, and with a vivid realization that everything that I was told was a lie. 

I started to question what I was being freed from. Every repetition of “everything is a lie” became a chisel. Finishing its work and cleaning whatever else was left out of that crust, that shell, those walls of prison.

It was playing in my mind nonstop. I looked at the desert again. But it turned into an amphitheater.

My life and the history of humanity were flashed before my eyes. It was like watching a 3-D movie. The energy field was so strong that after the music subsided and the voice turned off, I still felt the vibration.

Still under the impression of what just took place and feeling as if I was hit by an electricity, I ran to the bus like a loose cannon and grabbed my husband’s shoulder, and while shaking him, I said, “We were lied to! We were lied to! Everything is a lie!

“Who lied to us? What is a lie?” he asked, looking at me with concern in his eyes.

“Everyone. Everything,” I said . . . Everyone!

Truth about Truth 

I think that my husband got very concerned with what was happening with me. In the 30 years that he knew me, he never saw me in such state as he saw me while I was shaking his shoulder.

I do not think that I saw myself in that stage. I felt elated. I felt free. I felt not knowing. I felt awakened. I could see. I felt betrayed. Manipulated. Sold. Shaken to my core. Determined. Energized. Devastated. All of the above and much more.

The boost of one energy wave followed by another. One feeling after another was bypassing and changing my whole system.

The “Everything is a lie” energy vibrated through me. Breaking, deleting, voting out everything that I was told and knew before.


After telling my husband what in my eyes was the huge news, I felt that I still had unanswered questions. So once again I crossed the road. I returned to the same spot. I faced the desert one more time and asked two questions:

1. “How would I know for sure that what I was told before is a lie?”  

2 . “How would I know what is truth?”

 “You will know,” the voice from the desert answered to me. “You will know!”

Within two hours, another bus came, and we loaded our stuff onto it once again. Finally we were clear to go. The rest of the drive was fine, and we completed our journey to Tel Aviv about three hours late than scheduled.

However, after that stop in the middle of the Negev Desert, I was never the same. It changed my entire approach to listening and to life in general.

What I witnessed at that time and the experience that I had totally destroyed the entire belief system I had before. Fifty years of it. Not a small chunk of time.

However, make no mistake, I did examine and changed many things in my life before as well. Or I still would be living in Russia. But this time it was very different. It was on the deep soul level. 

Much more intense. It was taking place on the level of depth that I never knew what existed. Different layer of my soul.

I had to start all over again and not only with facing the changes in our family, but the inner working of my being. Now my entire life and everything that I knew was under a huge magnified glass and wide open for investigation. 

From that point forward, I knew I could not look or go back. Where to?

I knew that I have to start to question everything that I ever knew. And that is how and that is when I started a quest for the truth. For another layer of truth.

Learning to trust the truth that will be shown to me in the process was not an easy task as well. A few years later, I was told numerous times in different situations: “We wish you did not know the truth.” Talking about whatever the situation was at the time.

When I asked why, the answer always remained the same: “It would be less painful for you and easier.” 

 Meeting Truth

A few years later, in 2010, someone brought me a spiritual book for my birthday. This book was a collection of different stories from people in different spiritual communities in the United States. They all spoke about one particular spiritual leader

I will not mention any names to keep the privacy of those people. When that individual gave me that book, a thought crossed my mind: “How would I know that the stories in this book are true? How do I know I can trust what is written there?”

When the individual left, I was still conflicted about reading the book because it was all about creating an image of perfection. Glorifying image! I don’t believe in perfection, nor do I support glorification. Be that for political reasons or religious or any other reasons.

History proved so many times that nothing good can or will come out of this. As Truth is the end will come out, the false colors of glorifying portrait will be dissolved in the tears of those who were hurt by make-believe illusions, manipulations, and lies.

So in that book that I was holding in my hands, all stories were about one man, and that man was now made up to be a walking G-d or someone along those lines.

It reminded me of books that we used to read in the former USSR about our “beloved” leaders. Since we were children, we were reading about “Grandpa” Lenin and everyone who was in power at that time. Of course they all were portrayed as ideal human beings and put on the position of “Gods.”

To say something else, except how perfect and wise and wonderful they were, was a forbidden deed that was subject to a punishment. In many countries, this situation is still the same.

But what if, what if those people told “true” stories? After all, it is written in the United States, in a free country. No one is pressing them to lie. Their life is not in danger. They have a free will to not participate in creating false stories.

Also, I knew about this man too while he was alive. I respected him. I felt that in his life, he did plenty of good, and any additional glamour was not necessary. It could only harm his true image.

So I opened the book somewhere in the middle and started to read one of the stories. By the end of the story, I knew for sure that the story was a lie. How did I know?

By “accident,” I opened the book on the page that covered what happened in a community, which I was a part of at the time. I was a part of that story. I was a witness to that story. I knew everyone in that story. That story was a part of my life and people I knew.

Unfortunately, what happened in reality was manipulated and altered in the book. The facts were twisted and not correctly presented. The story underwent such a heavy makeup and glorification operations that you could not recognize its true face anymore. What can I say . . . The propaganda machine in its full glory! How sad!

There was some grain of truth to it. Here and there. But overall, it was a lie.

In the moment of realizing that the story told was a lie, I heard the same message that I heard standing in the middle of Negev Desert: “You will know.”

Indeed I now knew.

My Special Message to Parents of Celestial Children 

That is why I strongly believe that our children are coming to speak with us because they do not have an agenda to manipulate us toward any beliefs. And they do want to help us with our journey in the Desert of Death.

That’s why I can only trust what my son is saying to me because I know that what he says is based on pure love.

There is nothing more authentic than the love of a child. That is why when writing a book or these entries, it does not concern me if someone believes or doesn’t believe me.

My focus is help to connect parents with their children so they themselves can hear the truth based on pure love. In the face of pure love, lies die.

Right there in the middle of the desert underneath the burning sun, I experienced the manifestation of true love. I was told the truth that broke every single illusion, lie, and deception that was projected on me throughout my life from different cultures and different belief systems.

That is why I can say with 100% confidence that parents whose children have been taken to the Realm of Truth are individuals who have been chosen to learn the truth. And then share it with others.

Each of us will be given our own piece of truth. Together we can create a magnificent mosaic of universal and divine truth. 

The shift of our children is the last resort for us to learn the truth. If we do not seek the truth in the Desert of Death, there is a high chance we will not see it anywhere else.

The experience of walking through the Desert of Death has the potential for everyone of becoming a chisel that will chip out everything that is no longer serving us. This process is taking its place under the care of Divine Providence.

Are you ready to learn the truth?

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