Posted on | December 8, 2016 | No Comments
as written November 7, 2013
I asked the question, “Where in my heart has this trial been?” and instantly the imagery appeared: An endless vast field, burnt to the ground. The haze of orange fire on the horizon, smoke choking the sky and searing my lungs, driving my body to the ground. The sharp, pale, knife-like remnants of the grass on the field strike upward, piercing skin and bare feet, anything exposed. The field was harvested and it was time for the burn. I cannot see any other living thing, I cannot see anything other than this – no tree, no swell in land or mountain, no running water, nothing. Just an endless, flat, burnt plain that I couldn’t find my way off of. In my own heart, I was lost.
It was a place I had never been before. I had wandered far from my comforting places; from the grassy knoll and Tree of Life and Phoenix Forest and the Temple in my Heart and the Dock and Sailboat and Seas. I guess that when I left Utah, I also started traveling in my heart. And I ended up there, lost and afraid, in a place that has long scared me.
As I sit quietly in the oppressive but receding heat, the heavy wet silence makes my heart pound in my ears. I’m kneeling, my hands pushed into the earth. A rich, loamy earth that I sink into and that is surprisingly cool to the touch, despite the recent fires. My skin is blackened and crusted, scabbed and bleeding at the seams. I am dirty and covered in soot and ash, as it rains softly like gray snow from the opaque sky. I try to stay still, and breathe. Even if it’s chemical-laden and harsh on the lungs, I breathe. In between my hands I notice green shoots poking through all around. Tender, soft tendrils of new life. They are small, but I can see baby grass all around me as I lift my head. As the sky turns more gray than black, I also see that the earth has risen up around me gently, like a low war trench. Swallowed me in, like a protective barrier. “She will rise up to protect you when necessary,” I recall God telling me years back. Even so, I am mauled from the experience and feel like my bones have melted away, singed and bound by scar tissue to the earth. I am okay with this, for the moment…it is all the strength I have, anyway, just to kneel here tethered and tied down.
But in the quiet of the daze, I hear it. Footsteps, from behind me and to the left. Coming closer, slowly and with purpose. Stepping softly, purposefully. I know it is Him, and I am glad He is here. I have felt abandoned by Him and caught unawares in this blaze; like a trap set for unsuspecting prey. But I will not hide from Him, I am just so grateful He comes. My tears start, stinging as they meet the cuts down my face and carving track lines through the soot. But I let Him see me. I do not fear Him.
Lili, He says…and I know I am found. I am here, now. I was never far, always watching, always protecting you from the excess. “I know,” I whisper back, unmoving. “But I am undone. I have nothing left to offer, and no more strength to stand. I do not know what this place is or why you led me here. I am just trying to survive it. I am trying to heal from it. But I cannot do that without you. But I am afraid of needing you because I know I tried to make you come and rescue me from this place…so I am afraid to ask you now.”
I know, my sweetest one.
I begin to sob, my body shaking and weak, tears splashing down my face and neck and the ground. “I am empty of everything. I kneel before you, Lord. But I am afraid that I will never be able to stand, again. Or rid myself of this infirmity. Or live the way I want to live. Or have the freedom and joy of health, once again. I’m sorry I do not rise to greet you, but…I cannot move. I am sorry.”
The dark lords of the world tortured me here within an inch of my own sanity. Diving and shrieking and tearing me apart. But they are gone, now…most likely because I was a pecked scarecrow, too far gone to be of any use. Or maybe…they just couldn’t kill my spirit inside…who has given me strength. And the protection I have sometimes felt. Sometimes.
I am God, His voice raises, and nothing is done unto my children save that I prepare the way for them – and that I have power over all who enter in at that place. Even those who do not bring light. They cannot instill any darkness that was not there to begin with, somewhere inside of you. And it is was that darkness that needed to be addressed, needed to come to the surface. Look at you, my child…the darkness is now on the outside of your skin. It is no longer inside of you – you let it out. You made the choice to set it free, and I am here because it was me who you called, my love. Me, and no other. My name, whom you believed on, my name, you called. My name, you put your faith, trust, reliance, energy, and hope on. And this is why I am here.
It is time, my sweet. The fire is extinguished, the deed accomplished. This field needed to be bathed in fire, and you were here to tend to it. And I am here to heal you from it and lead you on. I know you struggle to believe that this could be so, but your imperfect faith is sufficient – because you know my grace will make up the rest. That I do not require perfect faith…only all you have. And you have given this to me every day for the duration of this trial. I accept what you have to give, knowing you have given me the rest. Oh, how I love you, Monica Rai…the Champion of my Heart. You did not flee, you remained here in your heart, in this wretched place – until I came for you. Such faith you have in me, such Love…I bless you for it and because of it. You prove to me your obedience in every facet of your life. Please know that I see this, that I accept it, that I honor you for it. Come, my love. Let us do what it needed…
And the Lord of all the Earth takes a step closer, and just His presence cools the burns on my body. With his hands held up towards me, every inch that he traces leaves healing in its place. All over my back the healing happens…the burns dry up and flake off, the skin turns from red to pink to soft white. And then He brushes the soot off, and says to me, “In my name, even Jesus Christ…Lili, I ask you to stand.”
And with shaking legs and hands, naked and afraid…but willing, I stand.
He passes his hands over the rest of me. Down my legs. My shoulders, neck and arms. My hands, torso, thighs, calves, and feet. Finally, He puts his hands on my face and bids me look at Him. “Eyes up, Monica. Those are your own words to yourself, and now, mine to you.”
So I cry and cry and lift my eyes to His. And…He heals me. My burnt and naked scalp grows fresh skin, and my hair and eyebrows and eyelashes start growing back. The rains come from the heavens and wash the soot away, a cleansing, brightening, purifying, lightening rain. I feel the sun on the back of my eyelids and feel God put a robe gently around my shoulders. I feel His strength hold me up in my physical weakness, reminding the muscles and nerves and veins and organs and cells and blood and sinews and bones and systems that He is God over all. That they can sustain me and bear me. Reminding them of their original purpose and place, and giving them the power to accomplish it. He steps to my side and takes my hand, and I know He wants us to walk.
Beyond this field I will be loved just as much as I was while I was here. Beyond this field I will be stronger, more humble and grateful than ever before. Beyond this field…is a fear of something worse. So that is why He walks with me today, He will walk me to where is next. To show me that I need not be afraid. “No more fear, Lili…you are bigger than your fears and I am bigger than all,” He smiles down at me. My feet feel mired in the earth, deep and heavy. But I breathe. I lift my eyes. And I speak…
“I will follow you. Lead me from this place.”
And with his gentle pull, I lift first my right foot, and then my left. I step up out of the embankment and look back. Deep imprints in the earth are quickly filled with water, dirt, and sand. New shoots of green spring up where I stood upon them, unafraid to reach for the light. And we walk. One step at a time, and each movement feels weak and strong all at once. Each movement feels better than the last. Each movement feels like Hope. Soon, He is not pulling me. Soon, I am walking with Him. And I don’t look back. As we walk, He speaks…
Monica Rai, I bless you with the gift of forgetfulness, that you might be distracted from the past symptoms and obsession with the focus on your receding illness. I bless you with laughter, and with good food you will be unafraid to consume. I bless you with piety, that you might feel deeply the circumstances of your brethren and that you will reach out to them as they have to you – so that you might emulate My love as has been shown to you. I bless you with Hope, and deeply felt Joy, and a consistent happiness that what you are doing is right in My eyes, and that you are indeed, exactly where I want you to be. I bless you to know that where your heart is, there will your treasure be.
I bless you to know that your home is where you are, not where the home is. I bless you to feel at home wherever it is you are; to feel the deep forgiveness of allowing old patterns and energy to depart, and this new healing energy to permeate everything you see. I bless you to see with new eyes, eyes that have been touched by Me. I bless you to follow through with these works, that I will guide you each step of the way for each of them. I bless you that you will see great miracles take place in your life and in those lives of whom you love. I bless you that things will move very quickly, and that you will rely on your humility and faith in me above all to tell you all things which you should do.
I bless you that your body will remember its full and vigorous health more quickly than you can imagine, that she will thrive and build up her strength and assist others in ways she never through she could. I bless you to be whole, to be wise, to be giving, to be like Me. I bless you to be aware that fears are lies, and that they cannot staunch the work of God in these latter-days. I bless you to know that this trial opened up your heart even more…when you look back on this place it will not be what it has been. It has been cleaned in the blood of the lamb, sacrificed by yours, sanctified…by Mine. You have bled for me, my sweet, sweet Lili….our Monica Rai.
I bless you to continue to let the work of HOYH go forth, touching lives and sweeping across the land. It is a marvelous work and wonder, and I stand at the head of it. I, even God, am grateful to have you to accomplish it with. It is one of the reasons you were born, you were made to do this and are capable of every facet of its creation and continuation and expansion. I bless you to know those that will come into your life are meant to – that you will know without doubt and immediately those who are sent by me and those who are not wise. You will trust your soul and spirit and that is greater than any who would demand your obedience other than I.
I bless you to be forthright in communication and in deed and in word. Do not move so quickly in the joy of being well that you lose your conscientiousness. I bless you to love and to accept love on deeper levels than you ever have been able to, before. This has opened you up, my love…it has not shut you down. I bless you to know that the trauma of your experiences will never overwhelm you again, that I carry them – not you. Their weight has been lifted, and with more time you will be able to look back and see them as facts and opportunities, not terror and fear.
I bless your body in all that it stands in need of. I bless you to lean into your healing that has happened this day, instead of being afraid of it. Let your heart be your guide. I bless you to be vulnerable, to take risks and to follow the promptings that you will feel daily. You are a sharpened tool and I need you – you are capable and you are ready. I bless you to know that I never abandoned you, and I bless you to know that I forgive you of needing me unrighteously. I forgive you for doing this imperfectly, and I bless you in every gap of your faith and bigger than any fear – that I am here. I am God. I love you. And I save you. Even so, even in my name, even Jesus Christ, Amen!
And so, I walk with God. Away from this place, leaving it healed and whole. Leaving me…
healing, and whole.
Posted on | December 6, 2016 | No Comments
as read November 6, 2013
The natural flights of the human mind are not from pleasure to pleasure, but from hope to hope. –Samuel Johnson
“A truly powerful force in the universe is that of optimism. Optimism lies at the root of our mental and physical health. Feelings of hope can stimulate the body’s immune system and inspire recovery from a critical illness.
Optimism expresses itself in the persistence and resilience of living things. A child learning to walk repeatedly falls down and picks himself up until he stands erect. A decade after the eruption of Mount St. Helens destroyed the local ecology, life had reestablished itself on this volcano with amazing abundance and rapidity. And despite its hostile environment, a sole dandelion miraculously pushed itself up through a crack in the concrete. That dandelion was optimistic that it could and would survive.
In the long run, the forces of love and life always triumph over those of fear and death. No matter how challenging the obstacles or difficult the tests, there is always cause for optimism.”
Listening to Your Inner Voice by Douglas Bloch
Posted on | December 5, 2016 | No Comments
as written October 30, 2013
I am grieving the hiatus of my health. In mere moments, my entire world shrunk in scope to the size of one more spoonful of food I was terrified to eat. Trying to re-open to my once vast world from a rigid cocoon of loss and despair, has been almost impossible. Slowly, slowly, one spoonful at a time, I am learning how to eat out of the palm of my once available and beautiful world. Still afraid, but knowing my body needs the nourishment in order to move past this – I must swallow. I must raise the strength to my parched lips and swallow it down. I must. I must. Even in the fear. Despite it. Despite what may follow. I must.
“While we can’t control what we are given, we absolutely can control what we do with what we have been given. No matter how harsh. No matter how painful. No matter how difficult.” – Dani Shapiro
“Anything that ever happens to you can add value to you.” – Oprah
I can make room beside the unbearableness and despair…and make room for some joy. I can allow both in – there is always room, if I choose to make it. Maybe that is one of the many lessons, here. When I find myself craving simple emotional grief because it’s a space that is familiar and comfortable, I hear Him say to me,
My love…that is why you do not need more of it. What you need is what you have been given, to teach you what is next. You tried to offer all your imperfections on the altar, in hopes that such surrender would meet the requirements of the trial. But, my love, that wasn’t the lesson. It is not how quickly you admit your shortcomings and turn to me in surrender of them with the sole hope of having the situation removed…it is in your motivation in doing so. Offering imperfection is a beautiful lesson you have already learned, my sweet and tender one.
Becoming one in forgiveness and purpose with your spirit, mind, and body is also mightily important – and you have done this, today. It is in the act of abandon; of releasing your sweaty grasp on the timeline of control. It is the humbled, head-bowed offering of deciding to choose life despite the seeming continuation of the infirmity. It is the deep, deep knowledge that in times such as these, my Love and healing still comes; life is still being asked of you to live! Just because you struggle accessing the joy you have worked so hard to feel because your avenues of coping have been tried, does not mean joy is not to be felt.
You are right, my love – you can make room beside anything, for Me. For Love. for Joy. For Hope. It has been a most grievous lesson for you, this I know more than anyone ever will. Your judgment of yourself in how you perceive you are handling it is so delicately and tenderly carried by me personally. I carry you, my sweet. You are in my care. And you are walking out of the other side…I never needed you to learn this perfectly. And it will NOT hinder your recovery from it. You said ‘Thank you’ to me today, and I have heard you. It was what I have been waiting for. I will supplant you with the necessary faith and courage your body needs to continue healing. I will supplant your mind with peace and all that is required is of you to choose to make room for the joy, and I will be felt. I will eliminate your fear of food, and I will ease the passing of the symptoms as they continue to recede. I will magnify your strength as you take small moves each day to find me, to find yourself, to make room. I will calm your troubled mind, and soothe the anxiety that is a by-product of such an unbearable task – NOT an indicator of your mental state.
What am I to take away from this, Lord?
You will know when you will know. As always, you feel the enormity of the experience and the grandness of the lesson burgeoning inside you. Let it marinate, let it curate there until it will be made known. It will reveal itself to you, over time, over the years; through service and offering and hard work and courage and animation and dedication and ultimately – of you being you.
How may I be of service to thee today, Father?
That, is how you say thank you, my amazing child. Your service to me can be found in helping your mother – use your talents to assist her long-awaited and patient request. Honor her as she opens her home back up to you, as it’s always been. Let her be your mother once again, it will heal you both. You will find both comfort, distraction, happiness, and a full heart in doing so.
Do not run, my love. Stay here, with me, today. I am the creator, the nurturer, the Savior – let me care for your body, mind, and heart. Serve your mother. Serve your fellow men by continuing to edit the book that has long been in the making. Continue your acts of faith by feeding your body. I will face your fears, my love…because you are facing Me. I stand in front of them, behind them, through them, over them – I rule them. They do not rule you. I love you. Forever and always.
Posted on | December 4, 2016 | No Comments
After a month of sickness and soul-deep darkness that I couldn’t fight, all my body wanted to do was sleep. More and more, as I gave in to not eating or drinking. My body heated and sweat and cooled off, symptoms wracked through and my mind left me homeless on a street in a far away corner of some other universe. I could feel my body get tired, and I started to wonder if I was dying. But in the moment, I didn’t really care. And that thought scared me enough to wake, then go back to sleep again.
After three days of sleeping day and night on the loveseat in my friend’s home on Long Island, I woke to my heart pounding out of my chest. I hadn’t gone to the bathroom in a day and a half, I was dizzy and the acid burned up my throat. Nicholas was working in Brooklyn, and I didn’t know what to do – but something was wrong. Really wrong, and I was going to die in that chair if I didn’t get up for myself and get help. My roommate came home from work, and I cried as I asked her for help. I had no health insurance, but it didn’t matter anymore. My life mattered more than insurance. Walking to her car and into the doctor’s office felt like a Herculean effort. I was coming out of my skin and couldn’t do anything about it. It felt like I was dying. The doctor took one look at me, and told me to go to the emergency room. I wanted to curl up on the floor and not move, I couldn’t imagine the energy to go back outside and to another location. But she helped me.
And sat in a smelly, loud, scary emergency room waiting room for two hours. She called Nicholas, and when he arrived she left me to his care. When they finally called me in, I was tachycardic and severely dehydrated, with debilitating abdominal pain. There were patients being treated in hallways, outdated equipment and stained ceiling tiles frightened me; I felt like a small rabbit caught in a snare, a child trapped in a nightmare. I couldn’t bear anything. Much of what happened next is blurry, and to be honest – I don’t want to remember every detail. What I do know is this…
They hooked me to an IV, monitored my vitals and pain, and Nicholas sat with me all through that endless night. Close to dawn, they admitted me for a longer stay. I ended up being there for five long days, and even longer nights. During which I was tested for every digestive malady under the sun, and which I actually prayed to know because an ANSWER of what was WRONG with me would finally provide a direction to go in. The not knowing was unbearable. The hardest parts of that experience were as follows…
Since it was a teaching hospital, there was never the same doctor or doctor-in-training who would come see me twice. Over thirteen different doctor’s treated me that week, often with a group of interns crowded into the room. Blood was drawn twice a day, tests were sent out, and no one would come to give us answers. When my mother came that second day, she tracked down anyone who could give them. They tested my blood, my urine, my plasma, my stool. All tests came back negative: for Crohns disease, Celiac, IBS, ulcers, illnesses which I can’t pronounce and can’t remember, a terrifying endoscopy where I was put under for the first time in my life but which yielded no cancers or other obvious malady. Endless it seemed. The ironic thing was, every time a test came back negative – I was disappointed. Because it meant there still wasn’t an answer.
My roommate was an older woman who spoke no English, and couldn’t control her bowels…and the nursing staff was so busy and overworked she went long periods without being tended to. So the room smelled like a pigsty, the bathroom smeared in shit and uncleaned, so I stepped hopscotch style between piles, barefoot with my IV stand in tow as infrequently as possible. Showering was out of the question. Nurses in training poked and prodded, and I only screamed to stop once when one of them failed three times to take arterial blood. The bruise on my wrist took up half my forearm and lasted two weeks. I was covered in them; I didn’t know who I was anymore.
The only thing that kept me tethered was the presence of my mother, and Nicholas. The first two nights, I sent my mother to my roommates home, but Nicholas…he stayed with me. The second night, he spent in the hospital bed next to me. I don’t know what I would have done without him. I was in an arena of nightmares, both internal and external, and he was the only safe thing in all the universe.
I felt separate from myself, other. Like a foreign alien inhabiting this mess of flesh and bone. I’d examine my skinny wrists and the needles and tubes and wonder where I had gone. Frightening does not convey how that actually felt. I had lost myself.
The third day, both Nicholas and my mother were out getting food, and I could feel my heartbeat ratchet up, and panic choke my throat. I pressed the button for the nurse, but not once had that ever yielded one coming to check on me. The alarms rang from down the hall, a code blue of someone coding. Someone dying. Feet ran past and shouting began. The terror rose up, seized me around the throat and I could not even scream. The room whirled and I looked for a bucket to throw up in. If someone had handed me a gun, I’m not sure I wouldn’t have used it to release myself from the torture. A paralytic electric current had passed over my skin, and I shook and moaned from the force and freeze of it.
My mother walked in, took one look at me and ran back out, yelling for help. Eventually, someone came, and once more – my symptoms yielded no obvious life threatening situation, and I wanted to scream in frustration. And then she said, “Are you having a panic attack?”
Something in her words resonated, and I instinctively knew that yes! That is what this is! almost immediately. Comprehension also dawned on the face of my mother, and some sort of relief helped calm me down some. I thought…THIS is what a panic attack feels like? It feels like DYING! That’s ALL this is?! This feels WORSE than dying!!!
I felt relieved and ashamed, humiliated at the extremity of my reaction and my inability to control it. But to know…something! SOME part of this THING that had taken over me, was strong. The nurse gave me my first Xanax, and I felt the calm spread slowly, blessedly through my blood. Her order was that I could be given two pills a day for the next two days. No more. It made me feel like a crack addict; punished for something I couldn’t control. I felt…inhuman.
Nicholas held my hand as my mother ran out of patience. She demanded a new room, and she got one for me. I was moved to a quieter, better smelling room. My new roommate was an elderly woman who fought for every breath, and was never conscious. But it was better than where I’d been. And at some point, a new doctor came in and told us that only concrete thing they could find to be an issue was something called Gastritis. Basically, just inflammation of the stomach lining. It’s temporary. It should never last more than a couple weeks. It causes nausea, acid reflux and heartburn.
That’s it. It was an answer, but I knew that was not the only thing wrong with me. But, I was also grateful it wasn’t more serious…despite the shame I felt around how extreme it felt in my own body and the confusion around how the diagnosis didn’t match up to how awful I felt. They gave me Prilosec and my 2-a-day-Xanax, and told me that once I was hydrated sufficiently and increased my calories to 500 a day, I’d be released. No more doctor’s came, but maybe they didn’t need to.
The beauty in this experience was the following…
When my Mother arrived that second day, she curled up in the bed with me and I buried my head in her chest. It’s been 30 years since I needed my mother like this, in this way. And the first time I’ve felt that need since then too. She fought for me the entire way; for care, a cleaner room, medication, food that I would try to eat, answers. She demanded for me when I could not show up for myself. When she left that night, she unclasped a bracelet from her wrist and put it on mine. “This will keep you brave,” she told me fiercely. I clung to it all through the dark nights to come, touching the smooth gold links and imagined breathing in her scent and strength. She brought me flowers and let sunshine into the room. She sat and read me the entire book of, “Gift From the Sea” by Anne Morrow Lindbergh. I closed my eyes and listened to her voice, the cadence and lilt and upstate New York accent that brought me memories of every single night of my childhood and all the books she’s read to me over the years. The sound of turning pages, the smell of the paper, the pictures and sounds the story told through her voice. She brought me my noise-canceling headphones so I could escape the sounds of the hospital each night, and promised to be there in the morning. I couldn’t have done this without her. She has always shown up for me. Always.
From the first day, Nicholas was by my side. He was quiet and steady, just offering his presence even though he didn’t know what to do or how best to help. Men love to know what to DO, and he didn’t let that make him frantic – he just stayed with me, letting me know how much he loved me. He never left. I could offer him nothing, nothing, and yet he stayed. I cried myself to sleep thinking about that; about all the years I thought I had to prove my worth, prove that I was lovable. He took my fear of abandonment and speared it straight through the heart. Even though I couldn’t feel it much, looking back, it was one of the greatest offerings of love I have ever been given. To be loved in such a state, is to be loved wholly. And now, I could not deny that I had been given that gift.
The other miracle that happened is that the hospital’s Medicaid rep came and offered assistance for me. She ended up doing all the paperwork and submitting everything needed, and was able to procure approval for me. The hospital stay would be covered in its entirety. 100%. I broke down and cried. The bill was over $40,000. I have never been so grateful for federal and state-funded programs as I was in that moment. And I was humbled even more to learn first hand how that can save a life, and save me from destitution and financial ruin. I will always be thankful…
At the end of day 5, I was released. My mother and Nicholas wheeled me out to the car, and I breathed in the cold, bright blue end of October air. I was weak and frightened, and far from recovered. But I had people who loved me, and I knew more than I did a week before. Sometimes, we are only given the next five minutes, the next 50 yards, only one small answer at a time. And yet we’re still required to move forward. To live.
I am not okay. I don’t know what’s all wrong with me. But I’m not giving up yet. There’s still too much to live for. And the answer was clear: Go home to them. Let yourself be cared for. Let yourself be loved.
[A few days after this, I packed up my car and drove up to Boston to my parents house, where I would spend the next six months convalescing and recovering. The truth of all that happened is still being uncovered, even three years later. But it does include some severe PTSD and triggered experiences from my past that came to the surface alongside the physical symptoms.]
Posted on | September 29, 2016 | No Comments
as written October 23, 2013
It has been four weeks, four days and some-odd hours since I have been beset by this sickness. Add to that another two and half weeks before that feeling not-so-good, and we’ve got nearly two months of this. After trying as hard as I had inside me, and much more…it got worse a couple days ago. You know, you were there. So I have made the choice to see the doctor…because I don’t know what else to do. I feel afraid of going…of failing you, myself, and using the money you gifted me with on this instead of living expenses. I am sorry. I am scared of what might be wrong with me, what if they find nothing, what if I’m dying…I’ve never been this sick before. It rides on the coattails of losing control of everything else in my life. It has brought me to the brink of my sanity so many times I have forgotten what happiness and joy and movement is…I know that the ability to believe I’ll get well and the hope that sometimes filters in is simply a crucial gift from thee. Lord…I am afraid. Did I do something wrong, here? Or did I just need to go through all of this before finding what will make me well? What if nothing will make me well?
My sweet Lily of the fields…today is the day where these fears are put to rest. Once and for all. You have learned more than you could have if it had happened any other way. I promise you my love, despite your imperfect belief and faith (because your all is enough, and you have given that to me day in and day out, through the long nights throughout all of this) that today you will see that this can have its end. The lesson is not about the healing…it is about the path to that healing. It is about all you have proven to me through this seemingly endless time of suffering. Be not afraid, my cherished one – hope is around the corner. Do you believe that you will heal, my love?
Yes, I do. Somewhere past the enormous fears, and the terrifying stark reality of having experienced something I never have before – how it has unhinged something inside me that I cannot control…there is that little bright seed. But Lord? I cannot eat…I cannot move…I cannot find joy or happiness or the faith that actually is enough to conjure true healing…I feel like I have failed having faith.
My love. While I honor your feelings, I do not honor fear – for fear is false, it is a lie, as is the sickness that claims your body still. But I am God, and I control all…no matter its hold. No matter its power. You have found yourself lacking, but my sweet one – I will always make up the rest. Your faith’s power lies in its ability to access Me, and my power overcomes all. Even and especially when you cannot even imagine it. Even, when you feel so far away from success that it seems a mere dream; a dream that is too painful to even remember or recall at all. Your darkness has been profoundly deep, but I, even the Alpha and Omega have descended below them all. And it is upon my mercy, my atonement, my hope, my faith, my power – that you shall rise. Let yourself be carried, let yourself be lifted up.
Monica Rai, it is my power still that works through modern medicine, it is I who inspires the doctors to care for my children beyond their mortal capacity to be inspired. Your illness is not some foreign, unknown, untreatable maleficence. It is a means to an end, it is a vessel to carry you to me. You are here, my sweet. And I know you don’t know how to believe that, in this moment – when nothing has seemed to abate the symptoms and restore your robust and strong health. They will know how to heal you, my love. They will know how to treat you – through my power and influence. I orchestrate all – even the care of your meekest ailment to this kind that has attacked your very sanity and will to live.
Not all faith should be based on past experience, my love. Some faith, like this, needs to be based on what you could not even possibly imagine…what you have yet to experience. I shall always take care of you. I shall always provide for you. I shall always, make a way when no way was seemingly possible. In the name of Jesus Christ, my only Begotten Son, I bless your mind to be cleared away of doubt and suspicion, pain and punishment, despair and depression. I bless your body to be healed to its rightful state through the blessing and miracle of modern medicine, which all comes from me. I bless you to be free of fear of what they will find or not find – that you might know it is my will that you be free from this tribulation – and that you be free of the fear that it will return…I bless you to trust your own body which has carried you your entire life – has provided for you for your entire life, and will continue to do so until you are called to meet your Maker. I stand as a shield against the immensity of your fears, that they might not take themselves out against your weakened vessel – thereby strengthening themselves in their fight against my Love, mercy, and grace. I am God, even the prince of peace, who carries you. Fear has no place within me, and I declare that you shall not be punished by them anymore. Can you let them go, my sweet love?
Yes…I release them.
That is all that is required of you now, my love. You have lingered in the land of faith and belief for many weeks now, it is time for answers. It is time for recovery. It is time for you to be well. I have always provided a way, and I always will. I bless you with my strength of body, that you might travel to the doctor and be sure of frame and mind, to explain adequately and thoroughly the symptoms which have waylaid you. I bless you to be fit and strong enough to obtain the medicine you need, to accept the clear answers of those who care for you and to heed their advice. All, will be provided for. Insurance is indeed a wonderful thing, my love – but it is not more wonderful than I, for it is I who carries you. I will make a way, where a way could not be seen by you – or your family or friends who are unable to accept that. Insurance is not the answer, I am. Do what is needed, do what is required, do what you feel you need to – I am by your side, I am in the voice of the practitioners and in their steady hand, I am in the love of your fellow men who bestow it upon you, I am everywhere and I am everything. Say goodbye to the darkness, my love. The Son is here. I stand by your bed, in sleep and in wakefulness. I bless you to feel no more pain, no more hopelessness. Today, we rise, my love.
Do not despair, for I am here. Trust in this day, and all shall be revealed. I bless you with alertness and clarity, with a disappearance of panic and stress – that others’ stress may not exacerbate your symptoms. This, shall be no more. And we have done this together. I needed this time with you – unrivaled, focused time so we could get to the other side. It is here we stand, my love. Not as a punishment, but as an eternal preparation. It is done. Let us move forward…
I am here, every single step of the way. I carry you…feel my presence in your very cells, in your bones and mind and heart and hands. Your patience and your faith has grown immeasurably. I am always astounded at the pace at which you internalize and maintain the lessons I prepare for you to learn. Always, my bright student – always wanting to learn, to grow, to become better than that which you were before. Enough learning, today, my one and only. My Champion. Time to be healed. I love you. What you are and where you are, are always, always enough. I promise to make up the rest. Be still, my brave one. The light is come.
Jehovah, Abba, & Motherkeep looking »