Rise up and Run

Christ said to the lame man, “Rise, take up your pallet and walk.”

Is it OK if I walk? Is it OK if I run now? Is it OK to fly?

We are Never Alone

I walk a labyrinth. I walk slowly, in deep meditation. With each step, I feel an increasing heaviness, as though the weight of my life and my sorrows are increasing. In the center of the labyrinth is an altar. I hesitate before entering. I admit to feeling a little disappointed. I’ve never walked a labyrinth before, and I expected a mystical experience, a magical presence. But I haven’t felt anything but heaviness.

I step into the center, and he is there. The Christ. Really, truly present. I take the waiting bread and wine, and I try not to cry as I stand with him. As I turn to retrace my steps and conclude the labyrinthian journey, I sense him walking beside me. With each step, I feel more and more people walking with us, saints from untold years past, until we are legion.

“This is real, isn’t it?” I whisper to Christ. “I mean, you’re really here with me, aren’t you?”

“Did you think I was make-believe? Did you think the words, ‘Lo I am with you always, even to the end of the age’, were pretend?”

I am never alone. I am totally surrounded by all the saints of every faith and every age; by all people past, present and future. The Christ walks with us at all times, whether or not we sense the Presence. We are never alone.

Wisdom from a Saint

Interviewer: What do you say when you pray?

Mother Teresa: I listen.

Interviewer: What does He say?

Mother Teresa: He listens.

Let the Wheel Turn

From 2004:

I am moving into a new home today. I meditate, sinking into my pool of Spirit. The image of the new house is before me.

“Why are you here?” asks the Eternal.

“To write,” I reply.

“Then do it,” she says.

“Why are you here?” asks the Eternal again.

“To be in peace,” I reply.

“Then be in peace,” she responds.

“Why are you here?” she asks a final time.

“To live,” I reply.

“Then LIVE.” states the Eternal.

I ask, “I have received many visions. Moving into this home means that some of them can never occur. Which are the true visions, and how do I tell the difference?”

“There is not a single path, there are many possible paths, depending upon your choices,” responds the Eternal. “They are all true, because they are all paths that I can use to work incredible good. Many paths depend not just upon your choices, but upon the choices of others, some whom you know and some whom you do not. There is no need to point a finger at yourself or at others. There is no need to place blame if the path changes. It will all be good. It’s OK to let the wheel turn.”

Living Great

It is reported that James Michener, walking upon the deck of an aircraft carrier during WWII thought, “When this war is over, I’m not going to be the same guy. I’m going to live as if I were a great man.”

These words resound inside me. My grief has receded (most of the time) - my travail nears its end. I am not the same person that I was. I occasionally try to climb back into the old skin, but it doesn’t fit anymore. It is dry, has lost its elasticity, and it keeps falling off. I look ridiculous trying to hold it around me.

I will live as thought I were a great woman. I will live larger, not smaller, because of my sorrow. I will not look for undersized holes in which to crouch. I will expand. I will unfold my entire being, and I will take up my full share of this space-time continuum – and then some. I will live as though I were a great woman.

We Are All Meant to Shine

You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you.

We are all meant to shine, as children of God do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It is not just in some of us, it is in everyone.

And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we our liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.

A Return to Love, Marianne Williamson

Photographic Vision

All pictures point to the Original.

Stay in the Box

Kneeling before candle and cross, I ask the Eternal – “What do you have for me today?” I have a vision of Jesus standing in front of me, looking earnestly at me. His knees are slightly bent, and he reaches out and takes my hands in his as though he is going to teach me to roller-skate. His hands hold me securely, keeping me safe from falls.

“Can you stay with me now?” he asks earnestly. There is no condemnation in that question, only concern and love. It is a check to see how I’m doing.

“I think so,” I respond.

My late husband is suddenly standing beside me, watching. “Hold your feet still,” he admonishes, just as he coached children standing in the batter’s box. “Don't step away. Hold your feet still.”
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The next week, I kneel before cross and candle. “What do you have for me tonight?”

The vision of Christ holding my hands returns. “Are you ready? Can you stay with me now?” At my nod, he suddenly grabs my upper arms and draws me to him in a strong, urgent embrace, the embrace of an impatient and eager lover.

I am held tightly against him, and then suddenly I am falling, falling through him, passing through his heart, covered with blood as I go. I am not pleased with the sensation. I don’t like getting dirty – it’s probably why I don’t like painting.

“It’s OK,” I tell myself. “It’s just blood.”

Then I’m through him and on the other side (though I don't know what that means) and I can feel the blood interacting with the cells of my body, sort of a foaming, stinging sensation. I look down. My body is transformed - I'm brighter somehow, and I feel...solid, even though I think I might be glowing. It’s still me, but I realize it’s an imperishable me. “So that’s how it works!” I think. I look around, squinting into blinding whiteness. “But where am I?”

Suddenly, I’m back in the chapel by candle and cross. I’m dizzy and overwhelmed.

And I’m left with the distinct impression that I have been given a vision of life, not death – a vision of something that is available to me and to us all, right now, if we can only find the path.

The Beauty of Brokenness

While kneeling before cross & candle at a Taize service, I heard the voice of the Eternal.

“This candlelight is beautiful & holy. But if you could see the people around you with My eyes, you would see such a blessed brightness that you could scarcely bear it through squinted eyes.”

Then I saw a vision of beams of light shining brightly from each person in their broken places, intersecting & colliding with beams from others, dashing off at odd angles & creating beautiful patterns of light in the air & glorious prisms of color at each intersection. I viewed flash after flash of rainbow light, and I was blinded by the glory of those loving & loved faces gathered there.

It occurred to me that I had no idea what pain and hurt must exist in that room, to create such beauty.

The Hearth-fire of Hope

Hope. What is hope? I think it's not the flaming, blinding light of Love, but rather a small warm hearth-fire. It is the type of fire that I prefer, actually. I need to tend my hope-fire, rather than neglect it until it goes out. It is so much harder to start it again from cold ashes. We all need to regularly tend our hope-fires.

The Gift of Matter

A few years ago, I sat in St. Mary’s Cathedral in Mount Angel, enjoying a choir concert. My son was in the choir, and as the men took a solo section, I could hear his voice, sounding faintly like his father's. I wished my late husband was there to listen. Then it occurred to me that all the departed saints and all the hosts of heaven could very well fit into the vaulted ceiling of the sanctuary, because they were energy, not matter. Perhaps he was there, after all.

And it struck me what a great gift matter is. Spirit beings stand in awe of us because we are matter. We can experience things they cannot. All the angel choirs of heaven cannot produce the sound of a human voice raised in song.

I think that it was not easy for the Eternal to produce matter. Even for an omnipotent Being, this was a Herculean task. But into this effort, the Eternal poured her love – the love of creatures, her children.

And so, our very matter is a gift, a joy, a blessing. Even in our pain, even in our sorrow and our dying, the gift of matter is an awesome one. We sometimes wander this earth feeling clumsy and awkward in our flesh wrapping, but it is a miracle and a blessing. To feel, to see, to smell, to taste and sense with our fleshly bodies is a unique and holy gift.

Little Balls of Spirit-stuff

We are all little balls of Spirit-stuff, rolled lovingly in caring Hands, breathed into Being, and tossed upward into the world to fly free. Our whole lives are a joyful journey forward to our first Home.

Broken Vessels

There is a reason that the Hebrew word for ‘Spirit’ is the same as for ‘breath’. It is not a metaphor, but a reality. With every breath, we truly renew our Spirit. We bring the Holy (eternal, greater) Spirit into our bodies with each inhalation. It is when we cease to bring the eternal into ourselves that our spirit flees and we die.

I have a vision of sinking into holy waters and taking a deep breath of Spirit. The Spirit waters are viscous and I am struck with terror, for I am choking and drowning. My lungs, accustomed to vapid air, are not prepared for the rich nourishment of Spirit.

Then the feeling passes and I feel euphoric. It is as though this is the first time I’ve ever truly breathed. I look down. Through the patchwork of cracks in my shattered self, light shines brightly through, casting a beautiful and complex design upon the Spirit waters around me. I realize that the light is love, pouring through me because of the cracks in my being. I realize that this Love light shines brightest through the most broken vessels. It can shine brightly through me only because of my brokenness.