Posted on | November 30, 2015 | 2 Comments
as written October 10, 2013
What is wrong with me??? I thought I was getting better, and then last night happened. Worst hours in a week. Am I really getting better? I am giving everything I have to choosing faith over fear, and I am stronger than I was a couple weeks ago. But…this morning I wake up and I don’t want to trust my own body. Fear. Am I getting better?…
Yes, my sweet. Your body is indeed knitting itself back to full health, with my aid. Sometimes ‘setbacks’ aren’t really setbacks at all, but just the process of healing. Healing in all forms can come in waves, just like grief – as you well know.
I am trying. I am fighting for myself and for the higher truth with everything I have…I don’t have any more to give…
I know, my love. I know all too well. And I tell that in that place of grace, is where my body, through the sacrament of my sacrifice – steps in and carries you. If you cannot trust your own body perfectly, you can trust Mine. For I carry you. Did you think you would not need me again, my love? Faith is needed in your life, in big ways.
I am angry at you for making me learn this lesson this way. It’s so unbearably hard. I can’t fight this looming depression well and I can’t live my life to get outside of it. I feel weak and needy, unwell and a bit abandoned. I feel angry and hopeless, even amidst the faith I have been building. I cannot do this any more, Lord…
My Lily. You ARE doing this. You are enduring. You are leaning into me, and you are exercising the faith I wish for you to embrace. You give yourself and your will to me again and again, and you acknowledge that I Am King – your prince of peace. Your everlasting Father. Your Counselor. I feel your emotions and I validate them, but even more do I validate that you have accepted this reality with meekness and humility. I will stave off the self-pity, my sweet – and I will make up all the rest of what you are not able. I would not have invited this lesson for you if you were not able to bear it. But even so, it is temporary – it is not permanent. Already, you have felt the strength in your body and that healing that has been happening. It will continue…be not dismayed by the slow pace. Faith is a slow process, but it will not be slower than you can bear.
I do not want to harm my body by not getting the proper care for it – you know how much I respect and try to honor this vessel you have gifted me. Even without health insurance, I don’t care if it means my body is hurting and needs help beyond what I can give.
Do you trust me, my love?
I am trying, God. I am trying with all I have.
The answer does not lie in quick acting medicines or procedures, Monica Rai. It lies in Me. And in your patience, faith, and trust. I know this has lasted longer than almost any illness you have thus far endured, and I know your searching of pertinent medical diagnoses to calm your troubled heart and even more troubled mind. I understand this need, and I do not judge you for it. I know you are giving me your best. I know you are wanting to promise feats of behavior and even old desires of perfectionism if I but heal you – but love, this is not a punishment. This is a lesson. I do not require perfection, I require your faith. Your trust. Your obedience. I would desire, your love. And I have that – I have that in spades, my love.
I do not feel home anywhere…and I haven’t felt well enough to create a homey space for me here in Long Island to help ease my depression and encourage productivity…I cannot DO ANYTHING TO MAKE MYSELF FEEL BETTER, and it’s killing me inside. I do not like it here, I don’t want to be here anymore. I don’t like Brooklyn either…I don’t know why we came…I can only lay there and watch my muscles atrophy and my hope struggle not to snuff out.
Physical muscle can be rebuilt, as you have done countless times and as you will do again. This, was a time of building your faith muscles and nurturing your spirituality – both with me, and with Nick as a couple. That is the muscle you have been strengthening, for it was weak and ‘atrophied’ and needed tending to. And in my great wisdom, I knew you would not address it in the manner that it needed. So I provided the opportunity for you to do so. I recognize that this is one of the hardest trials you have faced – mostly because in addition to everything else changed in your life, and you controlling nothing – your body and health is also affected, the last thing you have that is your own. But your body is mine, it is gifted to you – and you needed to re-learn this lesson. It is a lesson of the acutest kind, and it will not last long. I know it feels like it has been an eternity already, and that you cannot recall what it is to have a healthy body to live your life. But I do promise you this, my Lily, my brave soul – it is lessening. It will not be as unbearable as it started out as. It will continue to abate, little by little. Do not push yourself, physically. Let your body have the time it needs to knit together once again. Know that the moments of feeling unwell will also abate, they will not remain, and they will continue to be of less frequency and duration than the last. I needed you to reach to me, today. I needed you to know, how desperately and deeply I love you. I needed you to know that I am preparing you – not punishing you. There is a vast difference. You do not need punishing, Monica Rai, you need championing. And we stand all around you, doing so.
Your inactivity and seeming unproductive hours and days will start to have meaning, will begin to make sense to you and you will start to feel the significance and symbolism and holiness this time is meant to teach you and give you. We are here to minister to you – listen, feel of our presence and our communication, feel of our support. You are in a holy sphere, Monica my Love. Embrace it. Lean unto it, unto us – in your want. You have been submitting to this in greater and deeper ways each day. You have shown great faith by going with your father great distances to visit your brother, who sore needed his family. You show great faith by going back to my sweet daughter L’s home, which she has lovingly opened to you to share. It might not be your home, but it is a home in which I am welcome. And that is what you need most. Not your own place where you can isolate and be alone, but here – you are surrounded by my Spirit and by women who love you. I validate the difficulty you face of feeling split and stretched, unable to surround yourself with your own beautiful things. But my Spirit is more potent than that, and it is that Spirit that I wish you to embrace, rather than the belongings that have comforted you so much in the years previous.
Yes, this is a terribly difficult lesson. But it has slowed you down enough to keep you here – rather than running away, which you have been trying to do. Stay put, my love…and feel of me. Partake of this love and comfort being offered you. I love that you gave your father the opportunity to bless you, more than once. Heed those words. Heed the faith he has in his marked and powerful ability to access me while laying his hands on your head. Your body will tell you what it needs, do not be afraid to nourish it. It needs those things in order to continue healing.
My darling girl, this too, shall pass. And when it is over, you will have changed, even now – you are greatly changed. You will not forget how this changed your heart, but you will forget the physical particulars of this trial. This is good in my eyes, for your body will be needed — it is needed to carry and bear the children who are waiting for you. A time which looms very close indeed. This in-between time, albeit hard and difficult and pronounced in its potency of lessons — will be short. You will move on to where life is calling you both, starting out a new journey in a new place. I bless this union of yours, and I bless how hard you are both trying to look to me during this time. It strengthens your bond, your love, and your yoked faith in Me. How I love you, and love you, and love you…my darling Lily. You come to me, when you are heavy laden, and I shall give you rest. Be well, I bless you to knit and heal faster and faster, that you might reap the blessings of obedience and of the miracles I deign to bestow upon you. You are my miracle, and I will heal you. Be still — and know that I am God. We love you.
Posted on | February 25, 2015 | 2 Comments
as read October 5, 2013
“‘Look, the wind vane fluttering in the autumn breeze takes hold of certain things that cannot be held.’ –Feng Chih.
When we think we are losing our grip, we have good reason to look up. Consider the moon suspended in the sky, how it continues to come and go, follows its natural law, and never really loses face. Consider the sun, the stars, the seasons, how they refuse to abandon us, to let go of their hold on our lives. And, come closer to home, we can marvel at the magic of small efficient things – the toaster and stove, the light in the room, the words in a good book that are permanent, faithful, and clear. We can consider how music, without saying a word, still speaks to us, and how a few friends, maybe miles away, continue to hang on to the strength of our small and faithful words. We can keep in mind that we are part of a complex and loving system, and our grip can never be lost.”
Today’s Gift by Anonymous
Posted on | February 24, 2015 | No Comments
as written October 3, 2013
I missed the fall on the east coast. Desperately. And against the waves of sickness and sadness I drove through the traffic with Nick at my side to watch the cranberries be harvested in Massachusetts. The Ocean Spray commercials were tantalizing, and with everything in me I wanted to see those thousands of little red nuggets bobbing in their fields. After NY and Connecticut traffic, when we finally arrived the harvest was over. I wanted to cry, and did. I could barely find the strength to walk around the half-mile trail through the bog and woods and cranberry fields. The crowds were gone, the field emptied…no little red beauties for me to see. Despair and sickness once again welled up together inside me like old war buddies, and I felt myself losing myself all over again. I sat on the small, cold metal bleacher and tried not to be sick.
When my family finally pulled me to my feet and I leaned into Nicholas for support, the sun broke through the clouds and bathed my face in warmth. And in that spliced moment, I had a quick vision – quision, I like to call ’em – that pop into my heart and mind and then disappear…leaving a memory that has yet to happen and a taste of love grown bigger than it is now. With the man who was holding me up.
The quision showed me dirty little boys yelping and cavorting around a big back yard, while we sat grinning and basking by an outdoor fire. Totally, completely happy. Exhausted, but happy. Were we camping? Maybe. Might have just been a late summer night, with the boys wearing only shorts and dirt all OVER their bare chests, camouflaging them into whatever adventure they were having. It felt glorious – watching my unborn children…exist.
A scene change, and then Nicholas was carrying a baby in a carrier strapped to his chest. Hands on his hips, declaring how manly he was with a baby attached to him. I laughed and laughed…
Then finally, a glimpse of the biggest cranberry of all: our Love. I know without a doubt that our love today is strong and beautiful, yes – but it is merely a starting point from where it is going to go. I know that our love will grow…and experience by experience has the potential to expand beyond that which we could even begin to fathom. I felt a little of what it will be, today…what we will be.
And it made me stop in my tracks. Tears falling again. And feel the faith and hope in the future – as well as for today. Knowing that all of these things, these things we’re going through today – are necessary to grow the love that will become bigger than both of us. Kind of like God’s love, which is absolutely what He wishes for each of us. How I love him so, harvest-gone and all.
Posted on | December 10, 2014 | No Comments
as read October 2, 2013
“‘The seed of God is in us. Pear seeds grow into pear trees, nut seeds into nut trees, and God seeds into God.’–Meister Eckhart.
Often we may feel critical and judgmental about our maturity or personality. When we read we have God seeds within us, we may find that difficult to believe. How can we have the God seeds within us that other people have? It may seem everyone else has more good within them than we have.
Just as we admire certain qualities about other people, so can we admire qualities about ourselves. We need to remember a good critic looks at both the good and the bad. A good critic doesn’t pass judgment, but merely assembles the facts to allow others to make judgments.
The seeds that grow pear trees don’t yield perfect trees. Some of the fruit is ripe and juicy, some is hard and dry, some fruit never matures. Yet the pear tree will be a good tree if it’s tended with care. So it is with us. Every part of us may not be perfect, but with care we can make the best person possible from the God seed that began us.
I can be a healthy, bountiful person if I give myself plenty of care. I won’t give up on me.”
Night Light by Amy E. Dean
Posted on | December 9, 2014 | No Comments
as written October 2, 2013
Dear Lord, I come before you to ask a question: What story would you like me to tell? What story am I supposed to tell?…I feel the pull back to the writing of the book I’m supposed to write (from the story told through my website) seeping back through my thoughts and heart – knowing you want me to continue with it. But the work is massive; a tome well over a thousand pages long. I don’t know what to cut out, what to edit, and what to keep. What to fill in…I don’t know what story to tell.
What I do know is this: My story was the story of a young woman losing all to find her Source in the vastness of what was lost. She found You. She let you in. She faced herself.
Most of the posts seem imperative to the story, and it’s hard to take out a bunch and then make sense of the one that comes much later without all the context. I don’t know where to start or especially where to stop. I am scared to ask you the question. Maybe I am scared of the answer. Lord? What story do you want me to tell? It’s bigger than myself. So knowing they’re my details…I hand over this work to you. I hand it over because it’s what it means that’s more important. It’s what shines through the story, so much bigger than the words – that matters. I give my will to you in this. I give you the whole project, the book, the novel, the memoir, the painful rebirth. It is yours to do with as you will.
What wilt thou have me do?…
Read it through. And without judgment or questioning, cross out what feels like it needs to be – through my spirit. Do not look back, just read on and simply cross out what I direct you to. And then, once that is done, you will re-read, and the story will reveal itself to you. You will not see it until then, and therefore this will be an act of faith, my sweet one. Faith is a big part of your life right now, and I need you to exercise it even in this – even in the significant portions of your story. It is an act of trust, that you have in me and in my great plan…knowing I know what is best for all.
Leaving out some of the pieces will not take away from the power, nor will they be forgotten – you will always remember, and so will we. What needs to be offered, through you, is something different than you can know, today. But I know. Trust in me, drink the faith water, and my Light will guide you. It will be plain – do not doubt, simply obey. Faith, is something that is practiced. You are practicing, especially today – trying to find that peace to help you through the end of a sickness that I promise is not meant to remain. It is on its way out – do not despair…trust your body. Trust me. Find the faith that you are clinging to so fiercely. I am at your bedside. I am within you, feeling all, I know it is hard. But the dawn cometh with Hope on her winds…get outside to breathe it. The deeper your faith, the more swiftly will this depart – and not regress.
Thank you, oh Lord God…my Brother. Thank you. I am trying…
So I will print out the manuscript, as is. And do as you say. I will exercise this fleeting, rusty faith, and hold on until the dawn. Forgive me, God…I feel weak.
And so I am here to make you strong. And carry you, until you walk again. As I always have done…as I always will. Follow the ideas that course through you, my beloved. They are of me. They come from me. And you are capable of all I ask, and all you have always wanted to be. Leave some room for me, when your days fill, and we will always grow the trees of your heart. We love you. We miss you. We are here, guarding and protecting, sustaining and healing, comforting and calming, emboldening and strengthening, loving and loving and loving.
Jehovahkeep looking »