ISBN 1-56170-552-7 - Paper-back (Shopping cart # KB00-5) 
1997 - Hay House 
Author - Lee Carroll 

$16.95 USA  

Published in late 1997, this Fifth Kryon book started as a hard cover Hay House book with full color illustrations by Pax Nidorf (No longer available). It was later released without illustrations in paper-back. Unlike any other Kryon book, however, this one was a novel! The Journey Home was actually a live channeling given in Laguna Hills, CA in December 1996. This stirring story is about a man named Michael Thomas who enters a land of seven angels in seven houses. Within this simple spiritual story of a man trying to go "home," is embodied all of the practical living principles Kryon has been teaching since he arrived in 1989.

The novel is packed with metaphors about real human living, and has become the basis for the Kryon seminar formats of 1998 and 1999. So profound are the hidden meanings, that separate workshops have been created where  the book is literally "taken apart" to reveal the sacredness of the messages within it. The messages? Human enablement - our relationship with God - what humans can do for themselves in the New Age - what God expects from us - the way things work.

The adventure is actually about one word that is never mentioned even once in the text. There is something for everyone within its pages - an adventure, danger, a battle to the death, spiritual purpose, love, and even romance. Driving to a surprise ending, The Journey Home is the most unusual Kryon book ever written, and promises a format for future works as well.

This book is also availab
le in KINDLE version:


"Michael Thomas, the protagonist in this wonderful and insightful novel, is like so many people we've met. He's unhappy, alone and discontent...and wants very much to go home. After a brush with death at the hands of a burglar, Mike meets an angel who points him in the direction to truth - and that is the story of The Journey Home.

In this magnificent parable, Michael meets seven angels and each is a part of the meaningful and revealing learning experience that author and lightworker Lee Carroll shares with us. This is a profound voyage of discovery and enlightenment that involves vibrational shifts, reincarnation and balance. Michael's revelation is that he is an eternal entity and that we human beings are special creations. In his visits with the seven angels, Michael discovers who he was...who he is...and who he will be. With humor, enchantment and the wisdom of Spirit, Lee Carroll relates the metamorphoses of one human, representative of us all.

The most revealing insight this reviewer found is..." That humans were actually pieces of God, walking the planet with no concept of that fact in order to achieve a learning process that somehow changed the spiritual aspects and vibration of Earth itself!" The Journey Home is a brilliant reminder of who and what we are...and can be.

"Do you love God?" is the question that each angel asks Michael. Violet, the angel of responsibility tells us the "God can't lie. God can't hate. God can't make unbiased decisions out of the scope of love."

The Journey Home is the latest work from one of this reviewers favorite authors. It is also his best. Lee Carroll has given us a well-written book that flows like a mighty river. And that river takes us to places like truth, hope, destiny, awareness, and home!

Richard Fuller - Senior editor - METAPHYSICAL REVIEWS - Michigan

EXCERPT - The Journey Home

Unlike the other books, in a novel, one chapter does not contain closure and summary (which is common to most Kryon channels). Instead, here is a brief excerpt from The Journey Home.

The Storm

Mike had been on the road for no more than two hours when he noticed that the wind was picking up, and the sky was darkening. Oh great! thought Mike Storms in paradise.

For the last hour or so he had indeed been struggling with his load, and had been stopping at increasing intervals to rest. Not only was all this stuff heavy, but it was awkward as well! This irritated Mike at a deep level, and made him feel out of balance ö Now a storm too! He would need to find some shelter shortly if it was going to rain. He didn't want his bags to get wet, and was uncertain if the new battle gear would rust or not.

He stopped again for a brief moment and looked behind him for the first time. IT WAS THERE! The green blur darted at lightning speed behind an outcropping of boulders. This time Mike had seen it! It had substance, and was huge! Feelings of great apprehension swept over Mike's tired body as he realized that this apparition had not gone away since the last house. He remembered that Orange had told him that IT was dangerous and could hurt him. As he rested, he positioned himself to the rear so that he could observe the path behind him at all times. He knew that he must stay alert. He had no idea how alert.

The wind increased. Now it was difficult to walk. A normal person would have had no difficulty at this point, but the new battle shield almost became a sail... strapped to his back as it was. If he hadn't had all the baggage, he would have simply held it in the balancing position he had practiced and would have probably moved much faster... holding it against the wind to stabilize himself ö but that was not possible while carrying his satchels. Mike knew that he would have to find a place soon that protected him until this unusual weather calmed down and returned to the balmy conditions he had been used to so far. 

Mike had never seen anything like it. The weather was changing drastically within a very short period of time! Constantly on the alert for his following Nemesis, Mike noticed to his horror that the thing was able to gain on Mike despite the wind and now the driving rain. It was quick! How could it do that against such a wind?

The addition of the rain and the increasing wind demanded that Mike take some action. Things were changing too fast! Mike started crouching to present a smaller profile to the wind as he plodded forward. Soon he stopped and huddled down on the ground ö forward motion was becoming completely impossible. 

The storm was starting to take on a personality of its own as it began to groan and wail with the increased wind velocity. The rain was starting to feel like so many needles drilling into his flesh, as it was now being propelled horizontally with hurricane force. Mike knew he was in grave trouble and paramount danger. He sneaked a peek at the path behind, now beginning to be obscured by the driving rain and fog. Clearly he could see a dark green figure... now standing tall with what appeared to be glowing red eyes. It was starting to move forward! It wasn't affected by the storm! How could this be? Mike was having a fear reaction.

The voice from the BLUE angel was unmistakable as again it prompted Michael from within:

"USE THE MAP!" The voice was so clear, Mike thought! He is indeed with me. The storm's fury was beginning to rival anything that this Minnesota boy had ever witnessed, and was starting to become what he had imagined it would be like inside a twister's funnel. He now had fallen into a prone position on the ground, and was still trying his best not to be lifted and swept up by the incredible force of the storm. The flatter he could get the dirt, the better. Now the screaming of the elemental bombardment had grown to sound like a freight train ö the noise was deafening! Mike's fear could have been destabilizing and might have gripped him with terror, but somehow there was sense in all of this. If only he could reach his map.. there would be an answer! 

Unfortunately Mike didn't have the facility to retrieve his map, as he was incredibly preoccupied with staying alive. The fierceness of the elements was like an attack on his very being, and he was literally hanging on to the plants of the earth with one hand, and his precious cargo of books and photos with the other. The map bag had been slung around his neck and was crumpled beneath him ö safe, but completely unavailable. He started to feel his body being lifted by the horizontal vehemence of the driving, howling wind, and the sail like qualities of the shield on his back. Like a bullying personality, the fierce storm poked and prodded him to action. Mike forced his body closer to the ground, and by sheer will he anchored it by driving the toes of his feet into the dirt and hanging on to an especially obstinate weed with one hand. 

It was completely dark now; the billows of black clouds that had developed in the sky had descended to the very area where Mike was laying... making sight a thing of the past. His eyes were bare slits, trying to protect themselves from the attacking wind and rain, but there was nothing to see. He was even having difficulty seeing the ground beneath him! Where was the dark thing? Was it coming to get him? Did he dare move, or would the storm blow him to his death? Like bells in a fire drill, Mike's every cell vibrated with an alertness he had never experienced before. Fear? No! His will to survive and fight the situation was dominant. He was committed! He had to find a way to get to the map!

The voice from the ORANGE angel sounded like an oasis in the desert when it softly spoke into Mike's head. How could a soft sound be heard when there is so much noise? Mike thought?

"Michael Thomas, let go of the baggage!"

Mike knew it must be so, or he would die. The rain had soaked into his clothing now, making him cold. He was starting to shiver. Through the drone of the assaulting wind, Mike heard and felt a tremendous percussive wallop. What was that new sound? He had felt it vibrate through the ground. Was IT coming closer now? He had to do as Orange had told him! He knew IT was coming!

Mike slowly but methodically let go of the bags that he had so carefully packed with his precious cargo of memories. First went the books. By uncurling two fingers he released the strap of the first bag. The satchel was snatched by the storm like an angry power tool just waiting to shred it. Mike felt it literally ripped from his hand as he let go. He wondered if his finger was broken. He could hear the tearing of the seams of the bag and the heart wrenching flipping sound of hundreds of pages being torn to tiny pieces only feet from his head. It was the most awful sound he had ever heard! His precious books! Without thinking too hard about it, he let go of the other bag by opening the thumb of the same hand. This was even worse! The storm had the violence of a mad prize fighter standing over him, wrenching the case from his tentative grip and pummeling him to the ground. He actually wondered at that point if the dark thing had finally arrived and had begun to overwhelm him and tear him apart. The battering from the storm was like a team of drill sergeants jumping up and down on his back! 

Unlike the books, the photos disappeared without a sound. They were simply gone in an instant... and it made Michael Thomas angry. His entire lineage and the priceless, beloved memories of his dead parents were being disseminated over the landscape by an uncaring force of nature while he continued to be harassed and hammered by the same wrathful dispassionate source.

The pandemonium around Michael Thomas was fierce. He slowly tried to raise up slightly so that his now free hand could somehow be slipped under him to grasp the map. It was tentative, and he almost lost his grip... being lifted slightly by the wind under the battle shield still strapped on his back... but he timed it well, and was able to at last grasp the scroll beneath him. Using forefinger and thumb he managed to gradually unroll the map still beneath him to the place he knew the dot would be. Working on instinct alone, he slowly inched the parchment up his chest, pulling with it the wet earth and dirt that was being scraped along between the hard metal of his armor and the wet ground. It was an interesting balance... to press his body down as hard as he could to the dirt, yet allow his hand and the map to travel up his torso. He felt the skin scrape off his hand as it met a small rock on the way up. How was he going to be able to see the map once it was high enough? It was pitch black! He couldn't see anything! Even if he could see it, would the writing be washed off? The deathlike grip of his other hand on the weed was beginning to fail against the bombardment of rain and wind. His arm was growing numb. Michael was slowly losing the battle.

IT was not affected by the storm. As a low vibration visitor in a high vibrational land, the wretched creature was not touched by the wind, rain and turmoil that pounded the land around IT. IT freely stood up to full height and slowly made IT's filthy dark way bravely to the middle of the path and strode toward a prone and groveling Michael Thomas, who was barely hanging on for dear life against the elements... elements that had no influence whatsoever on IT.

IT was not swayed against the incredible force of the howling wind. Nothing the weather was presenting was affecting the dark figure, except the lack of visibility. IT approached Michael slowly with the stability of a casual walk in the park. IT was beginning to feel that fate indeed had presented a gift this day. The darkness of the storm had an effect, and soon IT could not see any better than ITs prey. As IT moved closer to Michael Thomas, IT was prepared to finish what the odd storm had started, for IT was ready and prepared to scatter the parts and pieces of Mike's biology to the farthest corners of this nonsense fairy land that IT despised so much.

Mike's intuition was correct, for IT was close now. The darkness had raced in as if the entities there had requested a personal blind fold. IT was going on instinct as to where Mike was on the ground. It attacked with great purpose and power! .. only to find itself blasting apart a section of the earth very close to where Mike lay. Mike had heard IT, but IT had also heard something else; the flipping of pages and the tearing of fabric as Mike had lost his books. IT quickly turned to face the new sound. Now IT knew where Michael was! IT was pleased.

IT came closer, and finally in the dimness of the great raging storm that IT could not participate in, barely made out the shape of a helpless Michael Thomas with one hand under him and one hand grasping a small resolute weed. If IT could have smiled... IT would have at that moment. IT descended on Michael Thomas' back with a vengeance.....

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