Books like Your Soul's Plan — picked by fans

I loved this book because it led me on a journey to discover my own past lives, something I never even knew was possible before reading this book! Once I read the words of Dr. Brian Weiss, I knew I had to do a regression myself.

Through this process, I realized there were things I hadn’t finished in past lifetimes and that I came back once again to complete my mission. It also helped me understand that some of the souls I know now are souls I’ve known before. After this book I felt a sense of oneness, not only with my mission, but with my friends, family and the Divine.

I’ve never read a series that made me feel both highly spiritual and completely grounded like Michael Newton’s Soul series did. These books shifted everything for me. They helped me see that my struggles—and even the difficult people in my life—from a higher perspective. This is when I began to understand that this life isn’t supposed to be all rainbows and butterflies.

Life here on Earth is a school, and we’re all here to learn. These books helped me remember that we’ve all played every role—every gender, every skin color, the villain, and the hero. I come back to them when I need perspective, when I forget that challenges are part of the soul’s evolution, and when I need a reminder to not take things here too seriously. They didn’t just change how I think—they changed how I feel about being human.

In October 2004, I tuned the television to the series, Unsolved Mysteries, to provide background noise while I had lunch.

When George Anderson’s story was featured, I was riveted, and ordered We Don’t Die as soon as the show ended. That led me to a myriad of other metaphysical books and experiences, and a fascination that has not waned in the nearly two decades since I first heard of George and his ability to speak with those who have passed from physical life.

As I have learned over the years, it was not by accident that I saw that TV show. It was a soul signal that I’d set for myself before birth, to guide me to a new phase of my life.

As part of my metaphysical quest, I had several readings through a medium my sister-in-law recommended.

In the second reading, my late husband came through loud and clear, and I was given a recommendation to read Echoes of the Soul. When I read it, it was as if I remembered it, rather than reading it for the first time. I understand this book, too, was a soul signal I set before birth that kept me moving toward my destiny.

My wife and I had the opportunity several years later to attend a seminar Echo Bodine conducted in Atlanta, and Echo was as impressive in person as on the pages of Echoes of the Soul.

This book relates to a lot of what I’ve learned in my own research about rituals. Contrary to conventional wisdom, it argues that we humans are not hedonists by nature. Yes, we desire comfort and we pursue all kinds of pleasures. But we also often embrace struggle, effort, and even fear and pain, and those are in fact the things that make our lives truly meaningful. From watching horror films and climbing mountains to raising children and performing painful rituals, Paul Bloom argues that, in the right context, suffering can be part of a life well-lived.

Sometimes the pain of our suffering is multiplied because those around us act as though grieving is a sign of weakness and lack of faith. Although we live in a world with many wonderful things, we will all experience suffering at some point. And trying to numb or avoid our pain doesn’t make our hurt and grief disappear. For that reason, I’ve been helped and encouraged by Mark Vroegop’s book because it teaches us to lament, which is acknowledging our grief and pain to God, giving ourselves the space and time to grieve while holding onto hope at the same time.

A friend once asked to whom I’d most want to be apprenticed. I thought about it for a while and answered, “Joan Chittister.” She invariably speaks deeply from a spirituality not limited to her Catholic orthodoxy, but inclusive of many other religious traditions. I never stop learning from her wisdom which often arises from her own experience.

In Chittister’s chapter about endurance, I am reminded of my own struggles as a writer and as a minister and how these struggles have deepened my spiritual understanding. Her words always give me hope and help me to persevere.

It’s a little weird that this book should find a place on my list. It’s a book about how society has become resistant to anything that is difficult and painful and the kinds of people that we have become as a result. But mathematics is difficult! To understand mathematics you have to think hard, sometimes for a long time. Moreover understanding something hard is discontinuous, it requires a leap to a new way of thinking. You have to start with a problem and this problem might be an ambiguity or a contradiction. A is true and B is true but A and B seem to contradict one another. When you sort out this problem you will have learned something.

The moral here is to embrace things that are difficult if you want to learn significant new things. “No pain, no gain.” You don’t have to worry about some super… show more.

I first read this book shortly after it was published in 1981. I was looking for the answer to the question of why bad things happen in this world.

Kushner did not have an answer to that question, but insights into how we might face the challenges that life can present when those “bad things” happen. He, himself, went through a significant trauma: hearing that his young son had a progressive disease that would not allow him to live into adulthood. Yet Kushner found a way to survive and to move forward.

I’ve read this book multiple times. It always reinforces for me the idea that the difficulties we face in life are just part of living and that even though we may suffer through hard times, life is, indeed, worth living. We can and we must go on.

I love Natasha’s voice and kindness when it comes to grief. She has been through so much loss herself, and so she knows what grief and unexpected loss try to steal from a person.

She invites the reader to simply be kind to themselves and teaches others how to come around grieving people with presence and without trying to “fix.” She offers a meaningful perspective on losses of all kinds.