Spirit Category


Christ

Christ

I saw Christ today.

She was sitting at a table by herself in the fellowship hall of the church I attend.

I purchased the altar flowers in remembrance of my parent’s wedding anniversary—what would have been 67 years. Bright yellow Zinnias, deep red Carnations with lavender Asters completed the lovely arrangement which was a perfect blend of mine and my mother’s favorite colors.

Christ spoke to me as she was finishing her microwaved beef stew meal. She said her daughter’s favorite color was yellow and that she had died in the last year.

I could tell in her longing expression, she wanted one of the Zinnia’s but did not want to ask. I was going to give her one anyway. When I handed her the flower, I told her the bouquet was for my mom who had died. She asked how long ago my mother had passed and I said five years.

Thinking the moment had passed, I began to walk away. Christ was not finished with me, however. She called me back, “come here.” I did. She reached for my hand and I accepted hers.

Care-worn wrinkles adorned her face and hands, dirty fingernails and a weathered sweatshirt graced her frame along with garlands of bedraggled hair—I wondered about the life she had lived and was living.

Once our hands were clasped, she closed her eyes and began praying. Because I did not want to miss a moment of this sacred awareness, I kept mine open, watching and listening.

There was no “Gracious God” or “Heavenly Father” beginning. Her prayer was not punctuated with any “thee” or “thou.” No “we just ask,” no promises were made, no sin was mentioned nor forgiveness requested. In fact, the only thing she asked for was for God to bless me and that she, herself, had lost her mother in 2007. Some of her softly spoken words sounded like reverential mumbling. There wasn’t even an “amen” at the end; just a very gentle shake of my hand and her eyes opened.

A good-bye, a thank you—as I was leaving, I glanced back, she seemed lost in sweet memories staring at her flower.

No sermon, no invocation, no hymn that I heard that Sunday morning touched me as deeply as Christ did in that very brief, yet timeless instance.

I cried most of the way home—not sad tears, or happy tears—just tears of realization at how holy beautiful is Christ and how precious is all of Life.

Super Fantastic

Super Fantastic

“Hello, ma’am.” He smiled broadly and waved.

I was walking Polly. I smiled back, though not quite as widely. “Hi, how are you?”

“I’m super fantastic. How are you?”

When the pandemic began, I reluctantly quit volunteering at the JCCM food pantry. One of the regular clients was Jeffrey. I have written about him in this space before. Homeless, few possessions—what he can carry in a backpack—always smiling, yes, always, and with a pep in his step.

“I’m super fantastic too, thank you.”

“You have a great day, ma’am.”

“You too.”

How could I not respond that I am super fantastic?

I have a roof over my head. I live in comfortable surroundings. I have a closet and dresser full of clothes, shoes, hats, and coats. My refrigerator and kitchen cupboards are full as is my stomach. I have a book shelf full of books to read and electronics to utilize. I drive a bad-ass truck with a tank full of gas that takes me wherever I want and need to go. I have friends and family who ‘get me’ and love me. I have a loving, sweet, gentle dog. I am retired and I have my health.

How could I not be super fantastic? I have so much more than Jeffrey.

Or do I?

If I didn’t have all of the above, would I genuinely and sincerely be able to say I’m super fantastic?

I don’t think it’s about comparing how much stuff either of us have anyway. It’s about knowing Who you are and to Whom you belong and Jeffrey is all in, 100% positive, without any doubt whatsoever sure of Who he is and to Whom he belongs.

My oldest son sent me a birthday card in which he wrote:

Has your latest year of birth been mostly happy? Well, whether or not, I hope you are well. Love, C.

Between isolating (due to the pandemic); enduring the insufferable Mr. Trump; mourning COVID deaths, gun violence, and civil rights injustices; and divorcing, year 62 was challenging. But what year of life for anyone isn’t challenging?

I answered my son, that yes, I am happy.  Upon further reflection of my son’s use of the word ‘well,’ I’d say I am well–it is well with my soul. (Horatio Spafford)

Like Paul, “I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances.” (Philippians 4:11). Of all people, Paul knew what it was to suffer—wrongfully imprisoned multiple times, beaten, stoned, shipwrecked, abandoned, whipped—still he did not lose heart.

Even though our outer nature is wasting away, our inner nature is being renewed day by day. For this slight momentary affliction is preparing us for an eternal weight of glory beyond all measure, because we look not at what can be seen but at what cannot be seen; for what can be seen is temporary, but what cannot be seen is eternal. 2 Corinthians 4: 16-18

In other words:

All this love we are reaching to be one with begins with seeing the beauty of our own selves… Without any need to be perfect… The way God loves us… In each rising discovery that we are beautiful in the way God knows beauty the world we have all made up together becomes more beautiful… And so Creation extends, through consciousness, by transforming all that we made up, into Light… J.F.

I’m super fantastic!

And so are you!

It Is Finished

It Is Finished

I have been thinking about you a great deal recently, given that it is Eastertide. In particular I was wondering what it was like for you after you spoke the words, “It is finished” and then bowed your head and “gave up your spirit.”

What did that feel like?

I picture you with your arms outstretched, simply falling backwards, much like someone collapsing inversely into a body of water but without the splash, jolt or sting. Instead of water, I imagine you perfectly suspended in brilliant light, your arms still effortlessly extended. No darkness, no pain, no anxiety, no worry, no fear, no shame; just gleaming radiance bearing you with tender ease.

On one of my early morning walks with Polly, I noticed something I hadn’t discerned before. Because Polly zigzags across my path as we walk, I have to look down and slightly ahead so as not to trip over her. In so doing, I found myself listening more intently. What I heard can best be described as seeing the space around the birds’ chirps and twitters.

That positive space was teeming with expectancy; pregnant with poetry. The quietude spoke through and cradled the birdsongs simultaneously; as if it was conversing with itself as the birds were singing to each other.

Could this also be part of what you experienced?

I have read the story of your crucifixion, death and resurrection many times and have heard countless sermons about salvation, but this Easter was different. I felt and sensed you in a new and unexpected way.

The word ‘faith’ is often understood as accepting something you can’t understand. People often say: “Such and such can’t be explained, you simply have to believe it.” However, when Jesus talks about faith, he means first of all to trust unreservedly that you are loved, so that you can abandon every false way of obtaining love … It’s a question here of trusting in God’s love. The Greek word for faith is ‘pistis,’ which means, literally, “trust.” Whenever Jesus says to people he has healed; “your faith has saved you,” he is saying that they have found new life because they have surrendered in complete trust to the love of God revealed in him. Henri J.M. Nouwen

That’s it, isn’t it? That is what you did when you “gave up your spirit.” You surrendered in complete trust to Love.

Yes, Susan, that’s it. You can trust me, I love you … the more you trust me, the more intimate we become. I know you and nothing you ever do or say will make me love you less for we are one.

Shadows

Shadows

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. KJV

“We are about to go into a dark winter.” Joe Biden

I do not really like Caverns or caves which is surprising since I have visited Crystal Grottoes, Carlsbad Caverns, Mammoth Cave, Indian Echo Caverns, Luray Caverns, and Smoke Hole Caverns. It’s not that I don’t appreciate the beauty, I do. As a former Science teacher, I respect the chemical processes involved in the creation of stalagmites and stalactites. I just do not enjoy being under ground in a confined space—claustrophobic. I would not make a very good coal miner as evidenced by my squeamishness during a tour of the Beckley Coal Mine in Beckley, WV.

A defining moment during a visit to the Crystal Grottoes is when the guide turns off all the lights. Since I did not want to “see” the darkness, I closed my eyes. Eventually, I did open them and was enveloped in complete and utter darkness—a darkness that could be felt.

Darkness … the absence of light … or is it really?

Was I really experiencing darkness? Is there such a thing? Why do we believe in the contrasting ideals of light and dark? Is darkness really the absence of light or is light the absence of darkness?

Maybe another way to view the absence of light I experienced in the cave was as a shadow. The sun’s light simply could not penetrate the crust of the earth and therefore what I experienced as darkness was really the shadow of the earth.

Could it be that all the beliefs and conditionings we tend to imagine we are, when seen in the Light, cast shadows of judgement, anxiety, fear, and all manner of unbelief and mistrust?

When I was growing up, one game we use to play as kids was Shadow Tag. Instead of tagging each other, the one who was ‘It’ tags your shadow by stepping on it. Nobody that I played the game with ever thought to stand in the shadow of a tree or building so as not to be tagged. Where is the fun in that?

Or perhaps you have made shadow puppets with your hands. Using a flashlight as your backdrop, you form your hand or hands into varying configurations—dog, cat, bird—the shadow of which is cast on some sort of canvas be it a wall or sheet. These examples seem to suggest that as children, we inherently know there is nothing to fear with shadows.

Curious about shadows, I did a little research and found the following. “The main reason why (a) flame has no shadow is because the flame itself is a source of light. A shadow is the surface area which is less bright than its surroundings because something is blocking light partially or fully from that area. Therefore, a shadow is nothing but a darker area with the absence of light”. (beingindian.com)

One of the first Bible passages I memorized as a child was the King James Version of the 23rd Psalm. Notice how David does not say the valley of death, but the valley of the shadow of death. Other translations use darkest valley or death-dark ravine.

The valley of the shadow of death

Truth and illusion, love and fear, light and dark, life and death, health and sickness, each denies the other, yet only one is real… Remembering here that only what is of the Source of everything – God, Goddess, Truth, Love – whatever term we might use to point towards what cannot be named as something apart or other, is actually and truly real…

God said to Moses, “I AM WHO I AM.” Exodus 3:14 … spoken from a burning bush, a flame, which cannot cast a shadow.

All seeming else is what we who are also Goddess’s child have made up… Making and Creation being totally different orders altogether… One real, the other not.. All belief, all shadow, all that is made up comes and goes, but what is real never comes, never goes, always is…

I am the Alpha and the Omega,” says the Lord God, who is and who was and who is to come, the Almighty. Revelation 1:8 … who spoke, and there was Light.

Our collective (made up) beliefs in separation, (which all belief ultimately is) is what is casting all these shadowy illusions of fear, death, sickness, separation, greed, scarcity, power-over, ‘them’ and ‘us,’ and all the rest of this believed-in divisiveness we are calling the world…

Altogether it is a great shadow we have collectively cast (projected) through all our conflicted and conflicting beliefs upon creation, earth, nature, the universe, existence… Yet none of this shadowy world can ever actually be real because what casts shadows cannot ever be real… Nothing in Truth can cast a shadow upon what is Everything…

Every generous act of giving, with every perfect gift, is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change. James 1:17

All these beliefs are arising from one simple mistaken belief we all of us humans continue to mostly unconsciously agree upon, no matter how far apart all our other beliefs may seem to be, the meta belief that we could be separate from what is the Source of everything, and therefor separate from and independent of each other, life, earth, existence…

And yet all this belief, without exception, when brought into the Light of consciousness is, by the very nature of what is Everything, transformed, transfigured even, now become able to serve, reflect and reveal creation in all of the Ways Goddess intended it to be, and it never was not… JF

For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor other heavenly rulers, neither what exists nor what is coming, neither powers above nor powers below, nor any other created thing will be able to separate us from the love of God which comes to us through the Messiah Yeshua, our Lord. Romans 8:38-39

… that which separates us is only a shadow.

I am working on a project as a Christmas gift for my sons. I asked them to send me questions they would like me to answer about myself, my life, and my childhood. Among the four that my oldest son asked was this: What would you say about you if you were speaking at your funeral?

In part, here is my answer …

She was a life-long learner. Although she did a lot of reading on a wide variety of topics—philosophy, theology, history, science, psychology—most of her learning came, for good or bad, through making mistakes. She spent a lifetime learning that she was a bra-burning feminist, a conservative-liberal Democrat, a typical Myers-Briggs INFJ personality type, and quintessential Taurus.

While all of that mattered to her, at the same time none of it mattered to her unless she held those labels and beliefs in the Light of the Holy Spirit to see what shadows those beliefs cast. When she did so, God’s unfathomable Love enveloped her in the Light of Truth, Beauty and Love. In the end, that made all the difference.

Dancing Butterfly

Dancing Butterfly

Have you ever watched a butterfly dance?

A friend brought me a beautiful bouquet of Mexican Sunflowers and sat them on the ground near us as we began a socially distanced, outdoor chat. I had just received word about the death of dearly loved friend and was a weepy, snotty mess.

Ingrid tenderly listened while I told her all about my experiences with Cheryl’s bright and joyful energy, generous and loving heart, and selfless spirit.

In the midst of our conversation, a lovely Monarch butterfly lightly wafted through our air space and gently landed on the deep orange-hued blossoms. We were both immediately awe-struck by this sacred moment. Our delicately winged visitor was in no hurry to leave and she lingered with us in reverential silence for at least 20 minutes, gently and slowly flapping her ornamental wings.

I steadily became aware of Ingrid softly praying. When she finished, our lovely guest gleefully flitted and fluttered; playfully bobbing up and down, weaving back and forth, and looping side to side. After her holy dance, she landed daintily and dawdled a while longer. Shortly thereafter, without fanfare, she lifted skyward yawing as if to wave good-bye. We waved back thanking her for her visit.

After Ingrid left, the fullness of grief landed on me like a lead balloon immobilizing me. In a brief text exchange with my cousin, explaining I how I felt, he responded:

Even if you can find only a tiny space to do this in, ask yourself what are you believing…? Without any looking for an answer… Just the tiny space of the question…

No expectation… Nothing… Just be in that tiniest little space that is made apparent by such a simple question, a question you are inviting something else to answer, if it wishes, in its own time, or not…

You are in total not-knowing, just this question that comes and goes, leaving you in its spaciousness… Hang out there, let everything pass through you, all the feelings thoughts images memories and sensations…

So, I did and that is when I heard it, like a needle stuck in a scratch on a vinyl record, repeating the same line over and over again.

“I can’t believe she’s gone.”

Everybody acknowledges grief differently and there is no timeline for working through the heartache and pain. In the wake of deaths due to COVID, there could be, at a minimum,  anywhere from a half a million to a million or more beloveds experiencing the grief of losing a loved one—and that is just COVID deaths. That number does not include those mourning the total loss of their homes, belongings, and/or possibly business’s due to fire and flooding or other unforeseen circumstances. We are living through unprecedented times of affliction, suffering, and loss.

What is there to do? How do we move forward? Where do we go from here?

I followed my cousin’s advice and sat in the awareness of not-knowing, letting the question “what am I believing” come and go in the spaciousness, allowing all the feelings, memories and sensations to pass through. Eventually, the needle moved and fluid freedom returned.

About grief, the mystic poet Rumi says:

I saw grief drinking a cup of sorrow and called out, “It tastes sweet, does it not?” “You’ve caught me,” grief answered “and you’ve ruined my business. How can I sell sorrow when you know it’s a blessing?”

Maybe this is what David was saying in Psalm 30 verse five, “Weeping may linger for the night, but joy comes with the morning.”

Situations and circumstances do not necessarily change for the better overnight, but maybe you will experience a dancing butterfly while you wait.

Normal

Normal

With Dr. Fauci and other highly-regarded scientists “cautiously optimistic” about a COVID vaccine, there seems to be a lot of eagerness regarding “getting back to normal.”

Normal defined by Oxford Languages means “conforming to a standard; usual, typical, or expected.”

Didn’t our past conformance to “usual, typical or expected” conduct cause the many inequities we are so clearly seeing unmasked by the pandemic? Do we really want to follow policies and legislation that are lacking in compassion towards the severely ostracized of society? Do we really want the poor to get poorer and the rich to get richer? Do we really want people living without healthcare or living with student loans they may never be able to repay in their lifetime?

If that is “normal,” I am not sure I want to go “back.”

A “new normal” makes no sense to me either because that implies bringing forward ideologies from the past that were less than ideal such as partisan politics, patriarchy, racial injustice, environmental ambivalence, systemic injustice, anti-Semitism, extremism, liberalism, and conservatism, just to name a few.

All of these “usual, typical or expected” behaviors have engendered worldwide cruelty, suffering, misery, and grief.

Oh, I know what you mean. I, too, want to gather with family and friends without worry and fear of spreading a highly contagious disease that could infect a loved one. The current state of hypervigilance is exhausting and the incredible trauma everyone is experiencing whether they realize it or not is overwhelming. A sense of ‘regularness’ would be a respite.

After thinking about my life prior to the pandemic and now, “normal” seems like an odd concept. Too much has changed.

Tears, which always flowed easily, fall in an ever-deepening consciousness of holiness for beloveds who are shunned because of the color of their skin, their sexual orientation, their religious beliefs, and/or their state of poverty. Having a voice, speaking out, taking a stand are all qualities that the Holy Spirit has honed during this experience. I feel more keenly mindful of life and its preciousness.

Why would I want to go back?

Plus, the whole notion of ‘going back’ is an illusion in the belief of time. The following poem by Hafiz says it best.

Now is the time to know
That all that you do is sacred.

Now, why not consider
A lasting truce with yourself and God.

Now is the time to understand
That all your ideas of right and wrong
Were just a child’s training wheels
To be laid aside
When you finally live
With veracity
And love.

Hafiz is a divine envoy
Whom the Beloved
Has written a holy message upon.

My dear, please tell me,
Why do you still
Throw sticks at your heart
And God?

What is it in that sweet voice inside
That incites you to fear?

Now is the time for the world to know
That every thought and action is sacred.

This is the time
For you to compute the impossibility
That there is anything
But Grace.

Now is the season to know
That everything you do
Is sacred.

No, ‘normal’ is not for me.