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CROSSROADS

I had a vision of me, although my physical form was unrecognizable at first..as was seeing from the outside… I was on a very large, rocky hill or mountain and I looked as I do now.  I had bare feet, felt ragged and tired and my gown was worn and dirty I was squatting or kneeling with my face down…A Great voice told me to stand, I was weary but stood up, I held out my arms like a bird..opened my eyes to SEE people everywhere running, fighting, evil among the chaos of the world…I held out my hands, my mouth opened and fire blazed from it continuously….like a dragon…then an Angel was behind me..He was extremely Giant…He had a double edged sward on his back..the case or what held the sward was white edged in beautiful sparking whispers gold that played the most fierce yet glorious music, Melodies that i had never heard with my physical ears …there were many more Angels behind him, so many I cannot count, all like him, yet He seemed to be in charge..no doubt of that…I looked out from the rocky mount I stood on with this miraculous, loving and Enormous Angel behind me, fire blazing out my mouth and arms spread wide..as if I am announcing that A GREAT BATTLE HAS BEGUN .

THE GIRL WHO CRIED WOLF

Sometimes its easier to fly away like a butterfly just after hatching from a cocoon, not a moment to spare with such eagerness not even waiting for the delicate wings to dry…white wings…opening to flight to soar so far from here… somewhere far, far away, where no one knows…it is a safe place…noone can touch me, see me or hear me, More important I cannot see, hear or touch them…I drift slowly into silence…no noise just peace… allowing the most purest light of love, one that I had never experienced before, trusting it as it slowly encircles me with a soft glow so Fierce, yet it delicately envelopes my tiny child-like body with a powerful white and yellow light sending the most magnificent rays of Gold down into my soul filling the empty part of me that hurts so much… I am sitting inside ..I look like a young girl, sitting this celestial bubble with my legs folded, crisscross, like I did in grade school.  I seem to be looking down looking at something in my hands that I am guarding, protecting it, so it must be important to me, but however hard I try I can not see what this precious item is.  I now am now protected from those who shout at me, they do not know they are shouting so loudly…my ears hurt from their voices, those who hurt their pain is so bad…it pulls me into their pain, those who bypass all and sing a different tune…they are READY, SET, GO, GO, GO…and keep on going and then there are those who know, they are waiting, waiting for what? They seem to know something is going to happen but what is it, what is going to happen?
Then the phone rings, I am back…back to what I do not wish to do …more doctors and more doctors, maybe they know whats is wrong…I feel it inside me its KILLING ME, I beg for them to take away my very pain…always the same answer, physical analysis shows that I a SUPER…if I am super, then why do I feel so horrible all the time? The pain in my body is horrible, the agony every time I think of doing something different shows grimaces on my face…Why don’t they see I am SICK? I am asking them to tell me Yes you need help…I offer you a helping hand, we can figure this out together…Then nothing. I don’t know how to tell them, to show them what I need and I am embarrassed, maybe others don’t feel this way? Everyone seems to think I am doing it to myself, well maybe I am maybe I am in such a situation that I can cause myself to be sick. What if the very thing I am thinking of is becoming my reality…What if I am becoming the very Sick thing that has been hiding somewhere deep on the inside of me “that one secret” no one must ever know…what if that is becoming my outside and making me sick…

HOW MANY TIMES HAVE WE MET GOD

IMG_1198What if we meet God everyday…I was having a “moment”, a moment all Moms get when her heart is so heavy it pulls all the way down inside by her belly, the pain only a mother knows when she hurts for her children. I was missing the sweet smell of my baby’s hair, the soft touch, its softer than cotton, my babies hair, I can still feel my fingers gingerly feathering the whips of dark hair, softly, ever so softly over my first borne head…playing melodies of memories with each stroke, just him and I, perfect even if just for a moment, breathing in the sweet smell of honey and milk from his breath and outlining his cheerio lips with my gaze, memorizing every detail down to what I called a” nipple callous”, it’s the little layer of skin on the upper lip that presents when a newborn is working their mouth to suckle his mothers breast…It was “That Moment”…I was pulling my heartstrings over all day long.
I realized, I had been turning this moment over and over again all day that I hadn’t had a chance to think about the growl in my stomach as I was driving home from work. I knew that I wouldn’t take the time to prepare something at home, so I conveniently went in McDonald’s on my way home. As I walked in the door, it was quiet and I remembered my first job was at McDonald’s I was barely 16 years old when I got the job. It was the year of 1988 and my belly bloomed about 6 months pregnant. I remember I had to tuck my uniform top into my pants just right so no one would know the button and zipper could not be closed…they didn’t have matuirity pants giggles. The same smell of french fries and floor cleaner lingered in the air.
I went to the counter and ordered two cheese burgers to- go, offered my money and took a seat for the first time that day. I noticed a man, he actually opened the door for me on my way in.  He kept casting glances my way, as if he might want to ask me something. He seemed to be just sitting by the door, as I think back now he didn’t even have food or a drink near, it’s funny I didn’t think of it at the time.  He was what I guessed to be about 62 years old, he wore a white ball cap to cover the snow-white hair, he wore a white shirt pulled somewhat snug over a round belly, He wore jean shorts and sneakers, I am not quite sure why I noted his appearance at the time.  I kept feeling an approaching question from him and maybe a hesitancy like feeling that He needed to ask me something, so I did was I thought felt right…I closed my eyes and silently prayed that if this man has something to ask of me, let him ask…Just then my food was ready.
I grabbed my food, almost disappointed to head out without talking with the kind man and curiosity had got me at that point, what was he going to ask or talk to me about…
As I walked out the door He held the door open for me to leave and as I passed by his jolly presence he looked at me… I knew… He knew…Then He let out a long chuckle of laughter..
It was not til the next day I understood His laughter as he let me out the door, then I began to laugh out loud too…How Many Times Have We Met God…

I opened my EYES while my EYES were shut…

I said, I believed my journey began with lilies…my first memory is of my nursery as a new born…I remember the white crib with matching dresser and changing table the same dresser that my Grandma Terry still has in her house, oddly enough or not so oddly enough. Well, like I said, nothing happens by chance.  I promised to my husband should anything happen with his parents we or “I” would care for his parents they way I did for Goose. Three years after Goose passed, my husbands father passed in Indiana, so we quickly packed our bags and flew the next morning for a funeral. After the funeral my husbands mom suggested I stay behind to help with the family, I agreed, keeping my promise. I did not know at that point that would be one of the last times I kissed my husband of 14 years goodbye.  I uncomfortable, settled in to make myself of service to his family. The days were busy cooking, mowing a 6 acre farm and keeping things tidy, not too tidy as I had been reminded several times from a past experience of cleaning my mother-in-laws bathroom, that “you should not do such things”.  So I was careful not to do too much or too little of anything.

In the evenings my thoughts would drift, I remember the pain was so deep from losing Goose its indescribable, the grieving process is so dynamic that on certain days it lingers in the air, even if you’re having an amazing day…I had many, it still clings to you like the stitch of a cigarette after leaving the bar…then I would look, not with my eyes, with my eternal eye…the one kept me thinking for most of my life that I was absolutely insane, there is no way for me to know and feel the things I do, to hear angelic rhythms throughout the days and nights..so beautiful that I would stop whatever I was doing to just listen and enjoy….the amazing colors that encircle people or the people who have no color at all.
Then I thought of when I was a baby, in a house with a rocking chair by the widow, I could see a youthful tree through that window.  I was fussy that day, the was agitations in the air, I could feel it surrounding me, I was crying for my mother who had dropped me off at Goose’s house for the day. I remember the light pink dress I was wearing with a diaper under it and some white bottoms with lace on the back, I couldn’t have been a year old yet. Goose tried every possible tactic to calm me, I could feel her desperation, not only for me to be soothed but for her to have some quiet time. She sat me on her lap, I tucked my sticky tearful face near her breast Goose took me in to her arms and stroked my hair, I could feel the lullaby of rocking chair swaying back and forth as we allowed our vibrations work in perfect harmony sending sparks of many colors and light to surround us. I looked up at Goose, I remember the sun catching the golden blondes in  her short curls pinned on her head, she shut her eye pretending to sleep in an attempt to get me to do the same… giggles, so I played the same and gently squeezed my eyes shut.

I, beginning as far back as I can remember, could feel and see the presence of souls no longer in physical form…I was born knowing the CREATOR very well and at around four years of age began to teach anyone who would listen about the unknown…the spirits were very attracted to me, I seemed to be a magnet for them. Some were very scary, being a young child I was frightened and did not know how to protect myself from them…I would try to hide from them…behind chairs, closets…they always found me.
When I was 7 years old I hemorrhaged, bleeding from my mouth in the night, choking on blood clots…my mother placed me in the back seat of her car and drove me to the hospital 30 minutes away…she kept telling me to talk to her and stay awake…I did not know why…I felt her rush to get me to doctors and worry….I felt soft…like laying in a bed of delicate cotton… and the purest love I had never known before…a sense of such peace I had never experienced before. I was content to be right where I was with no desire to leave… I shut my eyes and signed ever so deeply…and drifted through the softest melodies and colors…
Then there was me…I was above my body…there was, on a hospital gurney and a tent of a child I did not recognize, at first. The once blue gown was stained with blotches of blood and the light brown long hair that mom had brushed strait the evening before was tangled in a mesh of mostly dried blood…I could hear music playing from a radio in the surgical room and could see and hear the smug doctor telling the anesthesiologist and nurses that…this is pointless..she’s already bled out…get her family in here to see her…I seen, from above my body my mother, Goose and young aunt come in the room afraid to get to close…the nurse lift my lifeless body to a sitting position, so that my family could see me.  My aunt…only 5 years older than I, cringed and turn her sobbing face into Gooses breast and began to cry. Then I heard a very kind loving voice, although it was not really a voice…I did hear it, but it was not spoken it was communicated to me through his loving presence and color, I understood Him SO clearly as He spoke. I did not see him but felt His presence near…he told me I could not stay this time…I do remember a very peaceful…yet powerful force of energy pushing back in my body, I didn’t want to leave this AMAZING LOVE AND LIGHT… it was greater than that….there is Not a word to describe what I heard, not with my ears but my soul, in His voice or the light and music.. it does Not exist here…I did awaken…

The Journey Begins With Goose

My journey, I thought began with Lilies … on August 3rd 2014 3:20am in the early morning morning hours on a Sunday in Arizona I received a gift! A gift I thought at the time was ultimate gift …seventy-two hours earlier I brought my maternal grandmother, who I called Goose, home to live with me, as she could no longer walk without fighting for air…COPD and years of smoking had taken a toll on her once innocent lungs. Goose and I were going to set out, for thought would be long nights of story telling, giggling in our pajamas throughout the night about her upbringing and belly laughs to tears of tales of the little things or like She used to say, “the things I kept her on her toes about”, as little girl. Yes, we thought we would have months of bonding even closer than we already were…
The day after bringing Goose home…and me arranging… and rearranging every little thing… to make “everything” just “SO” …. See, I was the director and wanted the play to be “just perfect”.  Goose had asked to go to bed, her bed, a hospital bed in my home… the hospital bed was the only thing in my once living room that was not hers and set up like she had it when she was home in very attempt to recreate her home surroundings. I guess I felt that if she couldn’t be home we would bring home to her.
I, very petite woman, with a bit of a struggle managed to get Goose in bed…. we were both breathless at that point but in the end wiped our foreheads, I let out a huge sigh of relief Goose was safe in bed, while she used the last days energy just to get in one more breath. I covered her, as she liked, a sheet with a light blanket and what she called a “throw blanket”, just in case she got chilly.

Once I got her settled and tucked in just right, I could see she yearned to ask me something, I had noticed this same thing throughout the day.  She then looked at me, into my soul, with the most beautiful..yet tired blue and green eyes and for a timeless moment it was if our souls shared some entanglement of love, that danced to music, the most amazing music I had ever heard, whispers of angels singing a heavenly tune, allowing us eternity to dance for as long as our hearts desired, then with barely a whisper Goose asked the question that had been puzzling her all day…”is it okay if I never get up again?”…after a tender pause and some unhuman strength within me, I returned a tearful smile …and assured her that was perfectly fine…we held hands…both young and old and I promised her I would stay with her end and never leave her alone. Three days later… Sunday morning she left… moments after an intimate prayer I spoke each of her daughters holding hands, the one I dearly loved and thought I would spend forever with, my husband at her feet and me still attending to her needs at her side. She was Grace, no struggle, just went away….somewhere…so close…yet ..to some unseen.
See, I knew this was the ultimate test from God, I had survived so much in life from my depression…which trikled into selfmedicating…I cannot count the number of attempts to end my suffering, while making everyone possible crazier than I truly felt…still leading to hospitalizations after hospitalizations, actually became my vacation spot for quite a while.
A year after she passed I cover my cuts on both wrists with tattoos of lilies, her favorite flower….I have seen a connection with almost everything since then and my world 4 years later is unnoticeable to the once confined life i was imprisoned in. I have began to heal and have continued to grow in every way….I walk the peaceful path with lilies….

Good company in a journey makes the way seem shorter. — Izaak Walton

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