Energy and Light

Our sons and daughters have been lovingly helping me to accomplish the daunting task of bringing energy and light more efficiently to our home.

Energy and light.

My husband.

Accomplished the daunting task of

bringing sons and daughters

to help me bring love into our home.

Words. Tasks. Truths. They all turn round in my mind, woven and unraveled at once. The simple and the spiritual. These are my days.

I had made an appointment to pick up permits, gathered necessary paperwork, readied myself, and made it on time. I was doing a “normal” thing on a “normal” day. In the midst of overwhelming grief this simple task is akin to working a 12 hour day. As much as I try to will myself to be normal, stronger, more capable or “together”, simple tasks are simply not simple. Somehow still I place one foot in front of the other and walk on paths he walked with me.

The comfort of the garden has gracefully tread deep pathways in my mind these past months. I see flowers in spaces that others are unaware of. I knew there were rose bushes where I was headed, uncared for in this lockdown. Unsure if the cold had already put them to sleep, I packed clippers for the unlikely chance there would be just one rose to offer comfort. Outside the building, I paced patiently, masked and distanced waiting with others for our paperwork.

They stood tall amongst the chilled wilting leaves. Four perfect purple roses. Pure white, lovely red, friendly yellow and pink were all long gone. These were the last to bloom and welcome winter. These four had been waiting to speak to me, echoing their fragrance into my heart, offering me their poetic lives on this simple day.

And so, at the courthouse, I gathered the last purple roses in my realm this season.

I’ve seen our lives through poetry and have hidden it mostly, knowing others wouldn’t understand, might call it silly or sentimental or making up stories.

Poetry, a language unto itself,teaches us deep truths about ourselves, our feelings, others and life. Poetry communicates in a way that creates order in our spirits in the chaos of life. Poetry is the language of the prophets, they speak it almost exclusively. They have the weighty and humbling responsibility of speaking for God, often to those who aren’t listening.The poetry of the Old Testament prophets is a necessary emotional foundation for the solid reasoning of the New Testament. Have you heard this before? Is anyone listening? Having heard many self -proclaimed “prophets” pridefully craft deception and falsely, yet charmingly claim “having a word from the lord” has caused me to be quiet and cautious with the poetry God has spoken to me.

Enter Eternity.

Having half of my heart, body and soul ripped away means that poetry will bleed out of me until there is no more blood left in this earthly body.

Quiet and cautious was for when I was …..half dead or half alive? With half of me in heaven, am I more alive now? Words and truth turning around in my soul.

I gathered every purple flower that bloomed on our property that good morning before he fell. Seven minutes?- no, seven months later, four roses, same color, same variety, remind me of what Heaven spoke to the depths of my heart that day. The retelling of our story.

On this spinning planet where we all do “normal” things, we have beautiful God given power, holy dominion and righteous responsibility. It was invigorating. I felt my whole being filled with joy as I gathered all the purple poetry that day.

Spring had spoken.

Our land, our home, our children and grandchildren, our marriage, our intimacy , our friendships, our work, our meals, our recreation were all sacred gifts which we had holy responsibility to gratefully care for and love. And God had chosen us, for all these uniquely within our realm. Just as He’s chosen you for your unique realm, your people, your position.

We can take courage that reflecting Christ in our daily lives isn’t just nice, its a Royal edict from the Kingdom of Heaven.

It’s miraculous, it’s heavenly, it’s breathtaking. It’s all “normal “. It’s all sacred. It’s all potentially Heaven on Earth.

Spring!

Grace filled New life!

Renewed timeless beautiful truth.

The heaviness of this life of abuse of power, manipulation, greed and betrayal can darken and muddy our ability to experience the brilliant light of divine goodness all around us. The darkness must be challenged with divine love moment by moment.

That morning was as if the Royal purple train of the Lord’s robe was covering our land, our lives together with His glory. I couldn’t wait to share that beautiful encouraging holiness with Angelo. All our lives together were embraced with this. We both knew it, found peace in it, the truth that the “normal” is extraordinary.

It was

Breathtaking.

Then

His breath

Was

Taken.

And now, these four roses are visually repeating, the truth that the kingdom of heaven surrounds us in the “normal.”

But, my prince, the breathtaking ambassador of heavenly kindness and care, he’s gone on ahead.

Nothing is “normal” so where is the sacred? Words and Truth turn around in my heart.

Desperately I wonder if I could just touch the hem of Christ’s Royal garment , could my broken bleeding heart be healed once more?

My heart has always longed for others to be whole and healed. I’ve felt the powerful energy of being whole in our oneness, and strong enough to offer comfort to those who are hurting.

Oh, but for this brokenness, that healing robe is waiting in the heavens.

But help, compassion and care of family and friends are here to wrap me in the heavenly comfort of the “normal” sacred daily things of life,

to gently bandage and protect my open wounds until the healing of heaven can happen,

to radiantly remind me of The Word which shines in the darkness,

The Word who shared in becoming flesh full of Grace and Truth,

To bring energy, light and life.

The faint melody of Eden, of life without death, pursues and illuminates my soul. I place one foot in front of the other.

Simply, I ask” What is it like to breathe in Heaven Lord?”

The roses smile knowingly offering a fragrant prayer.

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning… In him was life and that life was the light of men. The word became flesh and made his dwelling among us.We have seen the glory of the One and Only who came through the Father, full of Grace and Truth. The Gospel of John 1

I saw the Lord, high and exalted, seated on a throne; and the train of his robe filled the temple. Above him were seraphim, each with six wings: With two wings they covered their faces, with two they covered their feet, and with two they were flying. And they were calling to one another:

“Holy, holy, holy is the Lord Almighty; the whole earth is full of his glory.”

From Isaiah 6

As Jesus was on his way, the crowds almost crushed him. And a woman was there who had been subject to bleeding for twelve years,but no one could heal her. She came up behind him and touched the edge of his cloak, and immediately her bleeding stopped.

“Who touched me?” Jesus asked.

When they all denied it, Peter said, “Master, the people are crowding and pressing against you.”

But Jesus said, “Someone touched me; I know that power has gone out from me.”

Then the woman, seeing that she could not go unnoticed, came trembling and fell at his feet. In the presence of all the people, she told why she had touched him and how she had been instantly healed. Then he said to her, “Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace.”

From the Gospel of a Luke chapter 8