At Least It Is Warm There
Twice I’ve been told that I am going to hell. The first time was when a relative asked me what I would say to Jesus after I die and he asks why he should let me into Heaven. My response was something along the lines of how my friends seem to like me well enough. Only nineteen at the time, I didn’t have all the appropriate Bible versus memorized for life’s little unexpected challenges like death quizzes, but the method of questioning prompted me onto a spiritual quest not so much to be prepared for Jesus,...
Read MoreHaunted
Our son, Sam, has spent the past week settling into New York City. In a conversation with him he talked about visiting the Guggenheim Museum to see the exhibit entitled, Haunting. Curious, I looked it up online and I’m intrigued. To quote the website, the exhibit “embodies a melancholic longing for an otherwise irrecupurable past.” Even before talking to Sam, I’d been trying to formulate the words of how I feel today. The effects of this headcold? Some residue from my dreams last night? In my dream I...
Read MoreLearning
In the past two weeks since my granddaughter, Jager, went home, I’ve been reclaiming my busy life. While she was here, it felt really important to clear my schedule and make her the center of the universe. I enjoyed every precious moment, but a small part of me felt panicky, as though one month away from friends and groups and events would somehow wipe the memory of me from the face of the earth. This is an old energy pattern of mine, and one I’ve worked on diligently for the past two years to overcome. It’s...
Read MoreRitual
We crave ritual. Where none exists or where long-practiced ritual has lost its meaning, we create new ones. For various reasons, I no longer attend church. Recently, I went to our local opera company’s production of Godspell. Watching the Last Supper scene reminded me of how much I miss the ritual of taking communion. I miss repeating along with others words and phrases that have been spoken for hundreds and thousands of years. Words are energy and certain liturgy spoken with powerful emotion feed us. Each time...
Read MoreJager’s Angel
Our granddaughter, Jager, is spending some time with us right now. She is six years old. For the first few nights, bedtime proved challenging because she’d be tired, homesick and not real crazy about the idea of sleeping alone in a strange bedroom. To help the situation, I read her Susan Ekberg’s picture book, Pink Stars and Angel Wings. In the book, little Kari learns that she has a special star, which becomes her guardian angel. Kari visits with her angel and in the morning when she wakes up thinking it all...
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