Thursday, April 13, 2006

Stop: Unlike Simon Peter, in this piece I only denied two times. I fear that in truth I have probably denied so many more times. Hopefully as this Holy Week continues I will stop to take time to listen. That continues to be my prayer.

The touch was - gentle. The quality imparted was - strength. I had felt His immediate presence for a time. Today, now, He grasped my hand. Though no words were spoken, I felt them. "Come with me." Yes, we were to search for angel dust.
My protestations followed. I did not have time. There was far too much to do. I had many responsibilities. I was not allowed to make the choices right now. My mood was not in the appropriate place.
I felt the touch again. The words came again, "Come with me." I grew still.
My thoughts were swirling. How could I search for angel dust in this very, very horrible weather? There were no rays of the sun to warm my inner being. Everyone was making demands of my time, demands of me. I felt the tension in my shoulders, the tension in my jaw, the tension in my head. I did not need a headache now!
The third time - the touch, the strength, the words, I felt them deep within me. I stopped. I set all aside. I glanced about me. I looked for the gentle flowing stream. I looked for the long necked giraffe. I looked for the waterfall of jewels. I longed for the strength of stride. I wiped the tears aside. I felt the angel dust gracing my shoulders
.

2 comments:

Rambling Chick said...

This is one my favourite pieces from your writing. It's hard to listen to the gentle nudges, and this says it so well. Sometimes when we worry so much about our own grief, the best medicine is simply to be joyful and greatful.

windy angels said...

Thanks for your help and for all the input.
Love ya.

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