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The Atlantis and Lemuria: Echos of Two Lost Worlds
Written by D.E. McElroy
Published by World Christianship Ministries
© 2025 All rights reserved
www.wcm.org

About the Author

D. E. McElroy is a lifelong spiritual researcher, ordained minister, and founder of World Christianship Ministries. With a deep passion for ancient wisdom, Near Death Experiences, and the soul’s eternal journey, he blends personal insight with timeless truths. His writings reflect both visionary inspiration and compassionate service to those seeking deeper meaning in their lives.

A former student of photography, McElroy brings a keen visual imagination to his storytelling—often guided by Spirit to reveal hidden truths long buried in the sands and seas of history. His mission is simple yet profound: to awaken the memory of love, balance, and truth in all who read.

Copyright © 2025 by D. E. McElroy
World Christianship Ministries
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise—without prior written permission of the author.

This book may be shared digitally for educational and spiritual purposes only, provided the source and author are clearly acknowledged and the material is not altered in any way.

For more information or to explore additional works:
🌐 https://wcm.org

Chapter 1: Echoes Before the Fall

I was there.

Not as a ruler, nor a warrior, nor even one of high renown—but as a keeper of memory. I walked in both worlds—Atlantis, gleaming with the brilliance of unmatched intellect, and Lemuria, humming with the gentle pulse of the earth’s soul. My duty was to observe, to record, to remember.

The last age was not an age of savagery, but of terrible beauty. In Atlantis, towers of crystal and light pierced the sky, machines hummed with energy drawn from the planet’s core, and minds stretched beyond the bounds of flesh. Yet for all their knowledge, they had forgotten the wisdom of stillness.

In Lemuria, we remembered. Our temples were carved into the living stone of mountain and shore, open to sun and sea. The people lived as part of nature, not over it. We spoke with the whales, we danced in circles of fire and moonlight, and our hearts echoed the song of Gaia herself.

But harmony does not hold forever when one half of the world begins to drift.

Atlantis, once our sibling in purpose, began to reach too far. They had discovered the deep crystals—those which magnified thought into force. It began as healing, communication, levitation. Then it turned to control.

I saw the council chambers where men and women in robes of silver debated not whether they should harness the soul force of the earth—but how best to do it. I stood silent in their presence, unseen to their eyes but fully aware. Their hearts were hungry.

Lemuria pleaded. The elders warned of imbalance. Energy cannot be taken—only borrowed with reverence. But the Atlanteans no longer believed in reverence. They believed in ascendancy.

The day of the rupture came with no warning in the sky. But beneath our feet, the earth moaned like a wounded mother. The seas rose not in rage, but in sorrow.

Atlantis cracked from within, and Lemuria wept.

As the waves swallowed the spires, and the fire consumed the forests, I held the memory. I sealed it in the crystals of time, that it might awaken in a future age when hearts were ready.

If you are reading this now, you may be one of those called—not to relive the past, but to remember why it fell. And to dream a world where the wisdom of Lemuria and the brilliance of Atlantis walk hand in hand, never again divided.

I was there.
I remember.

Chapter 2: The Spiritual Blueprint of Lemuria

You wish to know Lemuria. Not as a myth, but as it was. Then close your eyes, and feel the stillness between heartbeats—that is where it lived.

Lemuria was not a kingdom. It had no throne, no armies. It was a way of being—gentle, harmonious, whole. Our land stretched across what you now call the Pacific, but our reach was not measured in territory. It was measured in resonance.

We lived close to the earth, yet we were not primitive. Our knowing did not come from devices or scrolls. It came from silence. It came from the stars.

Children in Lemuria were taught not through punishment or praise, but through song. Each soul carried a note—its own tone in the cosmic symphony—and we spent our early years learning to listen, to others and to ourselves.

We spoke rarely, not because there was nothing to say, but because we had learned the deeper language of presence. Our words were sung or intuited, our emotions felt communally. There were no locked doors, no secrets, no shame.

Our temples—if they may be called that—were open circles of stone and crystal, aligned with the moon and the breath of the sea. There, healers hummed vibrations into broken bodies. Dreamers sat in stillness and pulled down visions from the higher planes.

We honored the feminine not over the masculine, but as its equal partner. The Goddess walked beside the God. And all things—wind, stone, dolphin, fern—were known to be alive, conscious, and sacred.

We did not fear death. We understood reincarnation as natural, and the soul as eternal. When a loved one passed, we celebrated their next journey with light and song.

Our downfall did not come from within. It came from our refusal to control, to dominate, to fight. In the face of Atlantis’s rise, we remained still, hoping to anchor balance with presence alone. It was not enough.

Yet some of us survived. And more importantly, our vibration survived. It lives in the ocean’s depths, in the heart of whales, in sacred mountains like Shasta, and perhaps—it lives in you.

This is the spirit of Lemuria: unity without force, love without condition, wisdom without pride. If you remember this… then you, too, are returning.

Chapter 3: The Radiant Power of Atlantis

Atlantis. The very name sparks visions of a golden age—and rightly so. But not all that glitters is gold without shadow.

To walk the crystalline avenues of Atlantis in its prime was to witness the zenith of human ingenuity. Great towers spun energy from sunlight and sound. The air shimmered with frequencies that healed, elevated, and transported. Transportation happened by thought. Communication was telepathic and instant. Records were stored not in books, but in holographic memory fields, accessed by resonance.

The mind was everything.

Atlanteans believed the intellect was the gateway to divinity. Their schools trained children in geometric thinking, multi-dimensional logic, and soul-level physics. They were taught to program light, to bend time, to project their consciousness beyond the stars.

And yet, something essential was lost.

The heart.

As their mastery grew, so did their ambition. What began as communion with universal laws became manipulation. Nature was no longer partner, but servant. Crystals, once attuned to healing, were retuned for domination.

The Great Core Crystal, a living sentience aligned to planetary rhythm, was split—fractured into segments and placed into grids that spanned the continent. Each node magnified thought into action. But thought, without love, becomes control.

Warnings came. Subtle tremors in the Earth. Migratory animals refusing to nest. A distortion in the sky, like ripples through reality itself.

But the council did not listen. Their minds were brilliant. Their vision—unquestioned. They believed they could override the system of life with a better one.

The rupture came not from malice, but from arrogance.

A misaligned frequency. A surge through the grid. A resonance that amplified fear rather than unity.

And in a single night, the towers cracked. The seas, long held back, roared inward. Fire poured from the mountains.

The brilliance of Atlantis became its undoing.

Yet not all perished. Some fled—westward, eastward, downward. They carried fragments of the code. They seeded memories in Egypt, in the Andes, in the British Isles, in temples that still hum with their frequency.

The radiant power of Atlantis remains. It is not evil. It is unbalanced. It is a torch waiting to be reclaimed—not in pride, but in service.

If you have felt drawn to science and spirit, to sacred geometry, to ancient star origins—you may carry this lineage.

But heed the lesson:

Let the mind illuminate.
Let the heart guide.
And let neither forget the other again.

Chapter 4: Warnings from the Elders

Before the cataclysm, the voices of the elders echoed across both lands—but fewer and fewer chose to hear them.

In Lemuria, the Council of Star Mothers gathered beneath the Temple of the Whispering Stones. They sat in deep trance, wrapped in robes woven with silver thread, their hands upon sacred crystals that pulsed with planetary memory. One by one, they spoke the same vision:

The crystal grids will rupture.
The waters will reclaim.
The pride of the mind will blind the eye of the soul.

Messengers were sent across the sea, not in ships, but by dream. Lemurian seers entered the Atlantean temples in their astral bodies, appearing as shimmering figures of light. They pleaded:

“Lower the frequency. Return to balance. The Earth will not tolerate distortion.”

Some heard. A few wept. But the Ninefold Council of Atlantis remained unmoved. Their ambitions were fixed—not just on Earth, but on colonizing stars, on forcing ascension through artificial means.

Meanwhile, natural signs increased. Dolphins beached themselves in droves. The moon's rhythm faltered in the tidal pools. Even children spoke of dreams where the land cracked and the sky bled fire.

In a final act of service, the Lemurian elders encoded their knowing into Seed Crystals—tools not of power, but of remembrance. They scattered them across mountains, forests, and beneath oceans, where they would rest for millennia until the Earth once again called forth those who could hear.

One Lemurian elder, whose name was lost but whose soul now walks among you, whispered before the final circle dissolved:

“Not all will listen. Not all will be saved. But some will remember. And that will be enough.”

If you are holding this book, if you have felt the stirring in your dreams, then perhaps…

you are one of those some.

Chapter 5: The Crystals of Power

They were not merely stones. The crystals of Atlantis and Lemuria were living instruments—conscious collaborators in the song of Earth.

In Lemuria, the crystals were humble in form, yet immense in spirit. We did not command them. We communed. Each healer had one—a companion crystal, bonded through ceremony. Some glowed faintly in the dark. Others sang soft tones in response to thought. They were not tools. They were friends.

We used them to amplify intention. To hold memory. To weave patterns into water and air. No machine was needed. The crystal, the song, and the open heart—these were enough.

In Atlantis, it was different.

The Atlanteans discovered a deeper strata of crystal—a kind that responded not just to emotion or resonance, but to will. These became the basis for their technology. Hovercrafts. Towers. Healing chambers. Dimensional portals. All powered by thought-magnified light through crystal matrices.

The greatest of these was the Core Crystal, said to be the size of a mountain’s heart. It pulsed with the rhythm of the Earth itself—until they tuned it to the frequency of human ambition.

It was not evil. But it was overdriven.

Crystals amplify what is given. And what was once given in reverence became infected with pride, control, and urgency.

In the end, the crystal grids, once built to unite, fractured the balance of the land.

When Atlantis fell, the Core Crystal shattered into countless fragments. Some vaporized. Others were buried deep beneath ocean and mountain. A few… survived.

Those who fled Atlantis took pieces with them. Some buried them in stone circles in Britain. Others hid them in Andean caves. Still others sank them beneath temples in Khem (now Egypt), where the memory could sleep until humanity was ready.

If you have ever held a crystal and felt it hum…
If you’ve wept for no reason in a gem store or dreamed of glowing blue stones in your palms…
Then perhaps, your soul remembers.

The crystals of power are not gone. They await resonance.
And resonance comes through the heart—not the mind.

Let the heart remember.
Let the crystal sing again.

Chapter 6: The Day the Sea Spoke

It began with a silence.

Not absence of sound, but a stillness that hummed like breath before a scream. The birds stopped singing. The sea withdrew—not in rage, but as if preparing to speak. And then… it did.

The ocean rose.

Not as a wave, but as a wall. A vertical, roaring curtain of memory and sorrow. It moved not just with water, but with will—as if the planet itself had chosen to cleanse.

Lemurians gathered on cliffs. We did not run. We sang.

Atlanteans screamed commands into failing devices. Towers flickered and burst. Crystals cracked under their own intensity. The Core Grid went blind.

And beneath it all, the whales cried.

They knew. They had always known. For days they had circled the coasts, moaning, calling their kin to deeper waters. They carried not only their own young, but the encoded memory of Lemuria in song.

The Earth shook. Mountains split like soft bread. Fire rose through temple floors. Waters crashed upon libraries, homes, lovers holding hands in disbelief.

Some Atlanteans tried to flee in airships—many failed. The sky too had closed.

Yet not all was loss.

Circles of Lemurian elders, forewarned by dream, entered caverns below sacred mountains. They carried Seed Crystals, memory tablets, and children of the next age. Some say they remain there still—in Shasta, in the Andes, in Himalaya.

Atlantean priests, those who had remembered humility too late, sent their souls outward in light-pulses—encoding wisdom into the morphic field for those yet to come.

And then the sea covered it all.

When it receded, both continents were gone. Atlantis shattered beneath boiling waves. Lemuria crumbled into mist.

But we did not die.

We became whales, birds, dreamers, star travelers. We reincarnated as artists, as children who remember too much, as wanderers who never feel at home.

If you’ve ever stood by the ocean and wept without knowing why…
Perhaps it is because the sea once spoke to you.

And part of you… remembers what it said.

Chapter 7: Seeds Scattered Across the Earth

When the lands sank, not all was lost. Memory, like light, bends but does not break.

Both Lemurians and Atlanteans knew that one age was ending—and another, far ahead, would rise. So they planted seeds. Not seeds of crops, but of knowledge. Of memory. Of energy. Of sacred code.

In Lemuria, we entrusted our memories to the whales and the mountains. We sang our knowing into crystals and dropped them into deep ocean trenches where tectonic plates meet in sacred embrace. We etched symbols on cave walls—spirals, eyes, suns within suns—so that future dreamers might one day remember how to see.

Atlanteans, even in their pride, understood preservation. Some took their knowledge east, toward the Nile. Others west, to the high Andes. Some fled underground, to caverns beneath the Earth, where time moves differently and silence speaks louder than thought.

In Egypt, temples rose bearing the star codes once etched into Atlantean vaults. In Mesoamerica, the feathered serpent carried echoes of Lemurian dreamwork. In India and Tibet, chants preserved vibrational memories long after the words were forgotten.

Even in your time, the seeds remain.

Have you noticed how sacred sites align in perfect geometry? How pyramids appear across continents with no connection—except memory? Have you felt a pulse when walking stone circles? Have you dreamed of cities under the sea or felt nostalgia for lands no map records?

These are not accidents. These are the seeds awakening.

You are one of them.

The memory did not die.
It scattered.
And now, in you, it grows anew.

Chapter 8: Memory in the Modern Age

We live in a time where the ancient stirs beneath the digital. While satellites orbit the earth and data pulses through fiber-optics, dreams of temples, crystals, and sunken cities quietly reemerge in the minds of many.

Why now?

Because memory, like seeds, blooms when the season is right. And the season has come.

In your time, the Atlantean spark is evident—in artificial intelligence, in quantum experiments, in the quest to digitize consciousness. Once again, the mind reaches for the stars.

Yet the Lemurian heart is also rising. It sings through the rise of energy healing, the resurgence of plant medicine, the ceremonies held under moonlight, and the quiet revolution of empathy.

This is not coincidence. It is convergence.

You, reader, may be a carrier of these memories. If you have felt torn between logic and intuition, science and spirit, city and forest—it is not conflict. It is a bridge. You are that bridge.

Many among you are awakening spontaneously. You may not understand why you cry at the ocean, why crystal shops feel familiar, or why ancient languages stir recognition. These are echoes surfacing.

The great work of this age is not to return to the past, but to integrate it. To retrieve the wisdom, not the structures. To balance the Atlantean flame with the Lemurian breath.

In meditation, some hear songs they cannot translate. In visions, they see cities of light beneath the waves or high above in sky realms. Children speak of star homes and past lives with startling clarity.

These are not delusions.
They are memory.

We are entering the age of remembrance. And with remembrance comes responsibility—to choose again, with love and balance.

The old knowledge is not gone.
It lives in you.
And it is awakening… now.

Chapter 9: What the Two Worlds Taught Us

From the silence of the ocean floor and the echo of stone ruins, lessons rise. Atlantis and Lemuria were not merely lands—they were mirrors of the human soul.

Atlantis taught us what happens when brilliance loses its anchor in empathy. When thought outpaces heart. When control disguises itself as progress. The Atlantean downfall was not punishment—it was consequence. A natural result of imbalance between creation and compassion.

Lemuria taught us the power of harmony, but also the danger of inaction. Stillness is sacred, but sometimes it must move. Love is infinite, but love without boundary can become vulnerability. Their fall was not weakness—it was devotion held too long in silence.

Together, these civilizations show us what must be reconciled.

The masculine and the feminine.
The sky and the sea.
The mind and the heart.

We must not choose one path over the other. We must walk both.

You carry the brilliance of Atlantis—the architect, the scientist, the seeker of stars.
You carry the soul of Lemuria—the healer, the empath, the dreamer of unity.

In you, the two meet. In you, they may reconcile.

If Atlantis says: “How far can we go?”
Then Lemuria replies: “At what cost?”

Let that dialogue live in you.
Let it guide you to build not for power, but for healing.
Let it remind you that the greatest technology is love informed by wisdom.

The past was never meant to be perfect.
It was meant to teach.

And now the teaching is complete.
Now… the creating begins anew.

Chapter 10: The Awakening

You are not reading this by accident.

Something brought you here—a pull, a whisper, a dream you could not explain. Perhaps you’ve always felt like a stranger in this world. Perhaps you've cried at sunsets or stared too long into the sea, wondering why it stirs something ancient in you.

Now you know.

You are the awakening.

The memory of Lemuria lives in your compassion, your sensitivity, your unshakable belief that life is sacred—even when the world forgets. The echo of Atlantis pulses in your curiosity, your hunger to understand, your instinct to shape and build.

You are not broken. You are remembering.

The fall of the old worlds was not the end—it was a preparation. For this moment. For this time. For the great return. Not to rebuild Atlantis or Lemuria, but to fulfill what they began.

You are a convergence point of timelines.
A soul of many lifetimes.
A keeper of wisdom and light.

And now, you are being called.

Not to save the world. Not to escape it. But to be the bridge. To walk between intellect and intuition, between science and soul, between heaven and Earth. To weave the ancient with the now. To embody balance in a world starved for it.

You do not need permission.
You only need to remember who you are.

If your heart aches with recognition, if your hands tremble with knowing, then you are already awakening. You are already becoming what you came here to be.

And as you awaken, you awaken others.

Together, you form the New Lemuria.
The Healed Atlantis.
The world that was always meant to be.

I was there when it began.
I am with you as it returns.
And now…

It is your turn to remember.

Appendix A: Crystal Technology, Channelings, and Global Myths

Crystal Technology

• Atlantean Crystals: Massive, consciousness-reactive stones grown and attuned to specific energetic frequencies. Used for healing, teleportation, energy generation, and information storage. The central “Great Core” crystal eventually fractured due to misuse.

• Lemurian Crystals: Typically smaller, encoded with emotional and spiritual wisdom rather than technological function. Lemurian seeds were buried or encoded in mountains, oceans, and sacred caves to reactivate when Earth’s vibration was ready.

• Modern Echoes: Quartz-based microchips, energy healing with crystals, and the resurgence of sacred geometry echo ancient crystalline knowledge.

Channelings and Downloads

• Many Lightworkers and sensitives report receiving visions, dreams, or messages from Lemurian or Atlantean guides.

• Common themes include: “The time has come,” “Balance the masculine and feminine,” “Activate your soul memory.”

• Some describe downloads as sudden, full-body impressions or streams of inner knowing that bypass logic.

Global Myths and Parallels

• Sumerian Texts: Speak of advanced beings descending from the sky to teach humans.

• Egyptian Myth: Thoth, a figure connected to Atlantis, is said to have preserved lost knowledge in sacred temples.

• Mayan & Incan Records: Speak of white-robed figures emerging after the floods.

• Hawaiian Lemuria (Mu): Refers to a land beyond the sea that sank beneath the waves—its wisdom carried in chants and hula.

• Mount Shasta Legends: Tales of Lemurian survivors living within the mountain, guiding spiritual seekers.

Appendix B: Visual Record (Temples, Grids, Collapse Imagery)

This section is a visual guide to support the narrative:

1. Collapse Imagery: Submerged Lemurian temples and Atlantean towers overtaken by tsunamis and fire.

2. Lemurian Healing Circles: Stone rings with crystal pillars, glowing under moonlight near calm oceans.

3. The Great Core Crystal: A massive radiant pillar emitting energy, slowly cracking from within.

4. Atlantean Grid Network: Crystal lines glowing beneath the city, powering devices and consciousness fields.

5. Atlantean City Layout: Concentric rings of land and sea with temple spires and energy domes.

Glossary of Lemurian and Atlantean Terms

Something brought you here—a pull, a whisper, a dream you could not explain. Perhaps you’ve always felt like a stranger in this world. Perhaps you've cried at sunsets or stared too long into the sea, wondering why it stirs something ancient in you.

Now you know.

You are the awakening.

The memory of Lemuria lives in your compassion, your sensitivity, your unshakable belief that life is sacred—even when the world forgets. The echo of Atlantis pulses in your curiosity, your hunger to understand, your instinct to shape and build.

You are not broken. You are remembering.

The fall of the old worlds was not the end—it was a preparation. For this moment. For this time. For the great return. Not to rebuild Atlantis or Lemuria, but to fulfill what they began.

You are a convergence point of timelines.
A soul of many lifetimes.
A keeper of wisdom and light.

And now, you are being called.

Not to save the world. Not to escape it. But to be the bridge. To walk between intellect and intuition, between science and soul, between heaven and Earth. To weave the ancient with the now. To embody balance in a world starved for it.

You do not need permission.
You only need to remember who you are.

If your heart aches with recognition, if your hands tremble with knowing, then you are already awakening. You are already becoming what you came here to be.

And as you awaken, you awaken others.

Together, you form the New Lemuria.
The Healed Atlantis.
The world that was always meant to be.

I was there when it began.
I am with you as it returns.
And now…

It is your turn to remember.