I Love You

Interesting how three little words can make such a difference. When I was raised, "I love you" was reserved for two people romantically involved, and usually only in intimate moments. Yet, there was love all around: parents, siblings, children, grandparents, grandchildren, aunts, uncles, nieces, nephews, cousins, friends, close coworkers, even strangers that one helps.

Yet rarely did one say, "I love you" outside of romance.
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This holiday, I ran into many who have had a rough year, some - including myself - have even lost people dear to their hearts. As we exchanged handshakes, hugs and holiday greetings, I heard over-and-over another greeting as well: "I love you."

It felt strange; it felt good. It's hard to describe the complex feelings. It's good hearing one is loved; the reassurance is needed when life throws ugly things our way. It's good saying it to dear friends and family; we may not get the chance to say it again. Yet, it was so against the grain of how I was raised.
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Why?

We should express our love. Yes, actions do speak louder than words; our behavior and actions should clearly state we love the person. But sometimes, life overwhelms our senses and we do not readily pick up on the body language or notice the kind gestures. Sometimes we really need to hear "I love you."
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So...

I love you.

All.

2012 - the Final Frontier?

There is a great deal of speculation that the world will end next year, or that the apocalypse will happen. I can not say what the year holds; I truly do not know. I know 2011 was rough on many - vast numbers in areas of natural disasters, plus economic problems, changing governments, rise in international tensions, even very personal losses - ranging from home foreclosures to death of loved ones.

In my travels for the holiday, I do not think I have come across one person that didn't have some major loss (whether personal or part of a wide-spread disaster) this past year.
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What will 2012 bring?

Many hope for the end; many believe they will be swept up in a rapture that will protect them from "hell on earth." Countless numbers wait with baited breath to see if my Brother will return and the "evil ones" in our society will "get theirs." Many hope for the end, for death's stillness seems more appealing to them right now than more of what they saw in 2011.

Tribulation is not "the end of the world;" it's a period of change. It can be as violent and traumatic as puberty. Yet, something more mature and a bit wiser rises from that. If we are in a period of "humanity's puberty" there are two things we need to keep in mind:

• We are growing to become something better than we currently are. We have something to learn and need to change as part of it.
• We will continue; this is not the end..

While we enter into the new year, I have actually started to look forward with a positive outlook. I don't know if this will be when my Brother returns. I don't know if I will see the Heavens & Earth dissipate and a new world begin. But I know we are taking some serious - and global - steps toward something new.
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Change can be violent. Change can hurt. We may loose much - both in terms of personal possessions, ideals / goals, and thoughts / understandings. We may loose loved ones in this process too...

Yet, where we go really has a lot to do with our own mindset - each and everyone of us. This is not a "believe in Jesus and you will be saved" speech. This is practical analysis firmly grounded in both psychological and spiritual studies.

The more we are grateful for what we have, the more we value that which truly lasts - friends, family, connections to each other, love, and God. The more we value what lasts, the more positive our outlook becomes. The more positive an outlook we have, the more we can see our blessings and shake off our desires for material things and passing fame this world tries to sell us. The more we free ourselves from the fetters that bind us (a part of the Lord's prayer), the more we can establish further and stronger connections to the Divine and each other. The more we see good things in each other, instead of evil and enemies, the more we help each other become children of God. The more we help each other become children of God, only through mutual work, the more we become what God created us to be.

On the other hand, the more we focus on fear, the more we will fear each other. The more we fear each other, the further we become. The further we become, the less we understand each other. The less we understand each other; the more we see others as our enemy - lines are drawn. The more lines that are drawn, the more wars there will be. The more wars there are, the more people will suffer and die. The more people suffer and die, the more fear rises to our mind. And the viscous cycle repeats itself as the adversary laughs in delight at our misery.

Remember: Only together we achieve something far greater than the sum of our individual efforts; the adversary seeks to divide for that will block us from achieving God's will: being the Children of God.

In 2012, which will we focus on? Each and every mind DOES make a difference, despite the ego telling us we are too small; despite the world telling us we are not enough. We are enough - as long as we believe. God is with us. When we do God's Will; we will not fail, regardless of what we see with our eyes when the world resists the changes to come. 

Daughter of the Celts

I've thought of myself as "Daughter of the Celts" for a while now; at least since High School which was over two decades ago. Apparently, Pari isn't too happy with the self-given title.

It is how I have come to think of myself. I am Daughter of the Celts; my Brother is Descendant of Abraham. I know for certain I don't have any bloodline that runs back to Abraham. He is at home in the hot, dry desert climes of the Holy Land; I am more at home in the cold, white north.
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Yet, I was ... corrected ... I suppose is an appropriate term. I am not to think of myself as "Daughter of the Celts" for that is not just who and what I am. Further, when I think in comparative terms with my Brother, I am drawing lines dividing us instead of erasing them bringing us closer together - as One.

That is what Pari wants in the end; God's children as One.
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So, as a stepping stone I was offered two titles to live up to instead of the self-chosen one: Daughter of the Light; Sister of the King. 

The first reminds me I am Pari's daughter and where my first allegiance and responsibility lies. The second is a reminder that I am kin to my Brother, but I still must follow His guidance.
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There is still much more I need to learn and grow...

...and  time grows short.

Convert!

After writing Home for the Holiday, there has been a word bouncing around my head: Convert. I read a tweet where someone suggested I was trying to convert Jews to Christianity, which I denied. I still stand by what I said: I am not called to "convert." Yet what I should have added: I am called to SHARE!
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One time at a large fair near us, I was curious about a group that had a tent with "Jesus" written in negative (where parts of the outline were in black and the letters were the same color as the background). Above it read a sign: "Can you see what it says?" So I walked up and said I could. They asked three more riddles, giving me the answers, and then I was called into the presence of the woman in the back of the tent. She told me how I was saved by Jesus, how I should now confess all my sins, repent, read the Word and Believe! She read a passage from one of the four main gospels and then had me bow my head while we prayed together for forgiveness. Not once did they ever ask if I believed or was a fellow follower of Christ. And by this point in my life, I had come to identify myself as Yeshua / Jesus' sister.
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Then the woman instructed me to write down something along the lines of: "Thank You, Jesus, for saving me and opening my eyes today." I, being stubborn, wrote down what was in my heart, "Thank You for the opportunity to take a moment from a fair, and turn to You with another in prayer."
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The woman was outraged!
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This was NOT what she wanted to see. She scolded me and said that she wanted me to write it over. She even crumpled it up and tossed it away! I noted the stack of written testimonials she had behind her. I refused and got tossed out of the tent.
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Why didn't I write the words she wanted? My eyes weren't opened that day; I was a Christian already. Or did my eyes open a bit more following that experience?
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What I saw saddened me: sharing the Good News (definition of "Gospel") and Love of my Brother and God had become a ... video game. It was more important to score "points" by counting the number of people you "converted" than it was sharing what we are called to share. Even Atheists use the word "convert" when they convince another to believe as they do.
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In complete honesty, God or Christ does not give a fig what "religion" you are. How we behave, how we treat each other and how we work on our relationship with God gives us our measure in this life.
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Gandhi was a remarkable and noteworthy follower of Christ's teachings; he was also a Hindu! I have no doubt he is sharing the feast with my Brother in Heaven among many others. There are *M*A*N*Y* in Heaven who are not Christian or even monotheistic.
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In addition to our relationships, we are called to share. Yes, we can share the Word, but the actual tool we should use to teach is a far greater one: our example. So many in this world don't get that. They condemn others who do not follow God as the do. They even look down upon others who share their faith when there are differences in practices or traditions.
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It literally breaks my heart!!! I feel pain course through my spirit each time I come across this. Do they truly NOT see what they do????
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We are not God's Judges. Why do we then continue to divide the world along religious lines and insist that if another is not inside our circle; they are to be condemned? The adversary seeks to divide. For only when our efforts are united can humanity achieve far more than the sum of our individual efforts. God seeks to unite us; Christ calls us to be brothers and sisters, to be ONE. Which calling are we following?
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Instead of "converting", we should let God's Love flow through us, showing compassion to another. We should let Christ's Forgiveness flow through us, forgiving each other, where we truly find our own forgiveness. We should let God's Mercy be a light that shines in our actions. We should teach through example...   after all   ....politicians and salespeople use words.
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God is in all religions that teach these things. When the teachings of a religion divide or put their followers above their fellow man outside "the circle," they have become lost sheep. My Brother grieves this. I think this is why there is the scolding of various churches at the beginning of the book of Revelation. They are lost while they try to save.
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A hand in the darkness...
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Yet within each there is God's Light and it still shines if we put aside what we believe things SHOULD be to discover what is really there.

Israel

One of the things that caught my eye this week was a tweet where someone said they, "appreciate any Xtian who supports Israel/Jews."

I have not issue with Jews; I am not antisemitic. I grew up in a Jewish neighborhood and appreciate much about Jewish culture, traditions and holidays; but I cannot say - sadly at all - that I support Israel. Yeshua (Jesus) disagrees with me there...

As I said, this is a place where I can blog some of my innermost thoughts, so I am not doing the public image / politically correct thing here.

I have heard many things the nation of Israel has done that ... disturbs my sense of what is right and just and good: How they keep pushing out their borders, how they treat their neighbors, how they goad the neighbors to violence and then retaliate far beyond what is necessary, growing their Kingdom a bit more. I've even seen peaceful humanitarian aide groups raided and stopped because they were helping someone Israel saw as an enemy.

I have heard how Messianic Jews are treated in Israel, just because they decided to accept my Brother as the promised Messiah...

Yet....

I don't understand it, but...

Yeshua still Loves them. They are still HIS people. So many times have I tried to see things through His eyes, but I still fail.

I rationalized that perhaps my feelings for my own homeland was what He meant. Yes, much of what the US does - especially when our last leader was in office - has been atrocious. It made me embarrassed to call myself an American. Yet, when I see the turnout for help and humanitarian support following devastating storms and natural disasters... then I am PROUD to be an American. Maybe it's that way with Yeshua, I surmised, that He is proud of His people, but disapproves their political actions?

No.

Yeshua has made two things clear to me: Israel is His people; nothing will change that. It is "sad" what they do. If one were to attack Israel, Yeshua would "grieve." If Israel were to attack another, He would be "quite sad." But He will never, ever, turn away from them...

I don't know if He would even protest them public like I've been contemplating joining the Occupy moment here, protesting the unfair tax laws that provide loopholes to the corporations and wealthy and tax the crap out of the lower and middle classes.

I even support Obama's request that Israel goes back to 1967 borders. Interestingly, Yeshua's response to that is "Borders don't matter."

*Sigh*

Maybe this is along the lines of "give to Caesar what is Caesar's..."

Yeshua has tried - though I admit I still fail to grasp - the concept that Israel IS Holy Land. This is a place on Earth where God has pushed through the fabrics of time and space and touched our world. Not just Yeshua's presence (birth, life, death), but countless others. I don't know if this is where others will happen, as some surmise.

That and the Isrealites are His people. They are as much a part of Yeshua as my Celtic roots are a part of me. That's right, not my American heritage, my Celtic heritage. I am not a descendant of Abraham as Yeshua is; I am a Daughter of the Celts. Maybe this is why pagans and neo-pagans don't have me running off screaming or trying desperately to convert them. I see Pari's presence in their beliefs and practices too, as well as Hindu and many others.

As I said, I have tried to see Israel through Yeshua's eyes, but the closest I guess I can come is seeing the pagans and neo-pagans through my eyes. They are my brothers and sisters as much as Christians and anyone else.

That and when Israel, the US or ANY nation or power-group starts to employ tactics that are without love, compassion and mercy... forgive them, pray for them.

We are all children of God.

Holiday Brake

Yes, I mean "brake" and not "break." Last night, I lost the brakes on my old Jeep. Some may curse and gripe that life threw them yet another (and possibly expensive!) problem to take care of -- during the holidays when they were away from home. Last night, I got down on my knees and thanked Pari, my Brother and any of God's workers that helped me yesterday.

My husband and I were picking up a friend of ours who was home-bound and driving to an inexpensive restaurant to meet a group of other friends we haven't seen in a year or more. On the way, I noticed my breaks suddenly went VERY soft, where I needed to press the pedal deeper each time I "tapped" the brakes in the traffic flow.

I didn't know if we were going to make it to the restaurant. Our friend, an elderly woman, was seated in the passenger side beside me. An accident, even a slight one where the airbag would go off in her face, would likely be lethal to her. We were driving after dark on Long Island; New York drivers - including myself - are atrocious as they cut you off suddenly, weave in and out of traffic and travel at LEAST 20 MPH above the speed limit - including local roads.

We decided to avoid the highway and I cruised -- what felt like a "crawl" -- along a main thoroughfare. I left a LOT of space before me, which only encouraged the other drivers to cut in front of me often. I coasted to a slow stop at each traffic light, annoying the drivers behind me.

I had my hand on the emergency brake the whole time. I apparently drive single-handedly quite well.

It didn't occur to me until just now, while I wrote that last sentence, how often I do that with my relationship with Pari. There are times when I fly by life, ignoring the limits even - or at least going "a little" beyond them. Yet, when something happens that I realize there IS real danger out there - I hold on God's Hand as tightly as I held on to that emergency brake. (S)He is there, then and when I cruise with no concerns, just as much as the emergency brake that's been in the Jeep all along.

Needless to say, not only did we make it safely to the restaurant, we also had added blessings. A friend that takes public transit was able to find another ride home, as we could not take her as planned. Because others showed up at the restaurant, unplanned, they were able to take our passenger back to her place too. Plus a friend was able to help us get a tow back to my mother's house, much further than our AAA membership would have gotten us. 

We were grateful for those as well.

Home for the Holiday

It is sad when there are so many dividing lines in the world. When I stumble across the ones in my own life, I sit back and wonder why they are even there. As I have just mentioned to someone on Twitter, while I was raised Christian, I grew up in a Jewish neighborhood. So wishing others a Happy Hanukkah did not seem wrong to me at all... until I was accused of possibly trying to convert them to Christianity.

*Sigh*

The home where I was raised had a Mezuzah beside the door, like every other house in my neighborhood. It was there when we first moved in. When my dad explained what was inside, it reminded me of the words I read in our Old Testament. No biggie - same writing / same God.

While we were one of three families with tree and Christmas lights, in a neighborhood of over 300, I wondered why we didn't have a Menorah glowing in our front window like all the rest. It was explained that we were Christian, not Jewish. That was the first dividing line.

Around our Easter celebration, I actually looked forward to matzo in the supermarket - I used to nibble them row-by-row as a child for a snack. There was also my neighbor's famous matzo ball soup when we sat down to the Passover Seder with them, unless it fell on Easter, at which point we had family gatherings for our holiday that day. Another fine dividing line. 

In December, there were many craft and holiday flea markets held selling goods. My mom was a shop-a-holic. So after-school we were dragged to many different places to attend these events. They were many in the local temples, one at our Catholic school in the gym, and one in a parish hall from a Mormon Church. While I and my siblings towed behind my mother from table to table at these events, I had plenty of time to examine the stuff that hung from the walls. I can't read Hebrew, nor could I then. So I asked my mother about the writing in symbols that looked closer to Chinese in my young eyes than the Greco-Roman letters in which I read/write. She explained they were Hebrew and that is what the Jewish teachings were written in. We don't speak or read it because we were not Jewish. Another dividing line.

When I was still in grade school (where I attended Catholic school from grades 1-8), I received my Confirmation. Friends of ours attended it, even though they were not Christian. We also attended their Bar/Bat Mitzvahs too. In fact, several of our class trips in the later grades were to the temple to learn about Judaism. While I heard rumors that the Hebrew grade school did the same as part of a cooperative program with our Church, the majority of the kids in our area attended public school. They found our ceremonies strange and bizarre while we had some vague notion of what theirs were about. After all, Jesus, the focus of our own religious education, had celebrated Jewish holidays and practiced Jewish customs. But my neighbors understood little about our customs and holidays. Another dividing line.

High school wasn't fun for me; I attended an all-girl Catholic Academy. But unlike grade school, I had to take two school buses. I was picked up by the local high-school bus, that rounded up ALL the high-school children in the area - public, Catholic and Hebrew schools. The majority of the public school kids were Jewish. While there was more than one Catholic high school kids in my town attended, overall, in our neighborhood, we made up less than 10% and had to wear these atrocious uniforms. I believe the Hebrew school had uniforms or a dress-code too, but they were not as glaringly obvious as the plaid skirts, ties and school color blazers and sweaters with the school emblems on them. A very obvious dividing line.

We ALL were dropped off at the public school. Then the public school kids went inside (or at least had to be inside by the first bell). The rest of us stood outside as our second bus would travel from town-to-town picking up the kids for our respective high school. While this may have made sense to some administrator, it was torture for us. We had to wear clothes that distinguished us as "separate" from the others, and we were major targets for bullies, teasing and bad-mouthing both on the bus and at the public high school. Why? Because we were not Jewish. They outnumbered us; we were supposed to always forgive, so they assumed there would be no retaliation as well. We had no other way to get to our school; we had to share the ride on "their" bus. At the public school, we had to stay put while they had the opportunity to walk away when they wanted to. They would ask: Why were we living in the neighborhood anyway? It was a JEWISH neighborhood! Christians were not welcome. Even the local "Y" was a YMHA, not a YMCA.

Why were we there? My father worked hard for a living, went to night school to get a law degree and then worked long hours in "the city" (New York City) to earn a good enough living to have a big house in a nice neighborhood for his family. There was no application indicating what religious affiliation we had to have to buy the house. That would be illegal - this is America, home of religious freedom. Right? The other Christians we knew had homes half the size or smaller. Why could we not live in that neighborhood in a big house for a big family?

In the years to follow, I observed further divisions. It was OK to have friends across that religious line. It may even be acceptable to date across the dividing line, if someone better is not available. But one would never assume it's OK to marry across the dividing line... "Think of the kids; they would be confused," was an argument I heard many times - from both sides of the fence. Yet it's the same God...

*Sigh* That was three to four DECADES ago: over a generation.

I don't hold grudges; I am called not to. What was in the past stays in the past - as it should! Hate and division only begets hate, war and violence. None of which I want.

Times have changed, thankfully for the better. In my lifetime, I have seen a growing acceptance across many lines - race, religious and sexual preferences being predominant. There has become a stronger division in political and income lines in these past few years, though. My heart longs to see these reversed too... 

I followed my mom back to Long Island Monday, as we are visiting with friends and family here this week as part of our holiday travel. On the way we stopped at the local strip mall to pick up a few items. In the large window before me, the local florist had a winter-scape display with a large menorah predominantly at the center with the correct number of candles aglow. Yesterday at the bowling alley as we were heading out the door, I spied the manager turning the bulb to "light" the last candle as sunset dimmed an already rainy afternoon. I am still a Christian and will always be, but these sights made me feel like "home for the holiday" more than I can express, as much as the scent of a freshly decorated Christmas tree.

We are all brothers and sisters in this world. One race, one humanity. Why do we keep dividing ourselves?

One place

One race

Humanity!

God's Will

My last blogpost about Mary is a good stepping stone for this one. When we are asked to do something for God, there will be many doubts. Why me? Why now? Why do this instead of that? Can't God do it alone? Who am I to be asked? This has been a topic my mind has looked at from several different angles and I'd like to share some of my insights here.

For one, God is omniscient; (S)He knows all - past, present and future. God knows what we will do and how well we will do. So if God were to ask someone to do something - great or small - wouldn't God ask the people (S)He knew ahead of time were going to accomplish the task? I believe (S)He would. Thus, there is one rock to stand on when we are asked to do something for God. (S)He KNOWS we will accept it and KNOWS we will accomplish it. Trust in God; believe in yourself. You will succeed.

Then there are the questions.

Why me? Well, well, well... There is that "me" word again. The ego. The ego convinces the human mind that we are a small inconsequential being. The sum of our life is limited to this body from birth to death; there is no more. But the truth of the matter - there is a LOT more. When God looks at us, (S)He looks upon ALL that we are, not just the small part of us that believes it is all of us. Not only is God far greater than we can conceive; so are God's CHILDREN. There is far more to humanity than we allow ourselves to believe. The doubt, the ego, tries to keep us small. Requests from God enlargen our horizon and understanding of what we - humanity - truly is. That is one reason why (S)He asks us to help. Not because God needs it, because WE do.

Why now? God is outside of time, but interacts with us within time as that is how we experience this existence. There are many things at play; innumerable interconnections between all of us in this world. If one remembers the images of the Fates weaving the threads of mankind, they became an integrated spider's web endlessly criss-crossing over the Earth. Timing belongs to God, and should belong to God. (S)He is aware of all and knows all interconnections - past, present and future - within the Now. We are not that aware, yet we tend to try to make things of this world fit our timing, our schedule. If the sun does not shine when we want light, we create a light that will do the job instead. We are children of God, but we have so much more to learn. We need to step back, let go of our will and embrace God's will, for God's timing is always perfect.

Why this way? That is one of the biggest hurdles I've experienced. There is such an overwhelming tendency to do things MY way. In fact, I've also come to realize what a blessing NOT knowing something can be. Because if I did know the end results, where I need to be and what I need to do, I would try to do it MY way, which - because I do NOT see outside of time - more often than not gets things done wrong or even makes it worse. When I don't know, I just have to keep the blindfold on, place my hand in God's and say, "Where are we going now, Pari? How can I help?"

The ego is a small, blind thing; the Spirit within sees and can help us soar to what we truly are.

Mary / Miriam / Maria

While I had a busy day at work yesterday, I found my thoughts turned often to Mary, also known as Miriam & Maria, the mother of Yeshua / Jesus the Christ. What was it like for her? What was it like to hear the angel's message? What was it like to go through nine long months of pregnancy ... wondering? What was is like in the days just before delivering the One who will deliver all?

I have no doubts Mary was quite human, though many worldwide worship her with near-goddess - or even fully goddess - reverence. Queen of Heaven. Mother of God. But in the beginning, she was no greater than you or I.

What was it like for her?

To be called to do something by God is both humbling and awe-inspiring. There is this rush that Wow! I can do something great, but there is also the overwhelming questions: Why me? Why now? Why in this way?

I have never had a pregnancy that lasted to full term, but I have seen many women struggling in the last trimester leading up to the birth. There are backaches, swollen ankles and feet, bloating and an underlying desire to "get it over with" near the very end. I doubt humanity has changed that much in over two-thousand years and Mary likely went through the same. Or did she?

There are some that believe that because she carried God's Son that there was no discomfort, there was no pain in the birthing process, there was only the wonder of God surrounding her. I tend to think differently. She was human. Yeshua came as fully-human too. I am certain that which most women experience in pregnancy, Mary did also.

Then there came the time to travel. Why then of all times?!? As she packed her clothes and the items she needed following the delivery, she did not slide into a comfortable heated car seat after promising her mother that she'll call when she arrived. She had to ride upon a lurching donkey. Her mother and family were far away - several days travel - and there was no means to contact them for comfort when her time came. She must have been terrified.

Yet, I am sure there was also this element of Trust. God started this. God will see her through. It did not mean that there was not worry and fear, it just meant that she would be able to get through it. Like we can too with that same Trust.

At the delivery there was pain and blood, as there is in all human births. Unlike the days of my birth, I have a feeling Joseph wasn't "waiting outside" during the delivery. I believe he was there, holding her hand, mopping her sweating brow, stroking back her matted hair, giving her the strength and courage to get through the delivery. There was Love radiating from them as Yeshua drew his first shaky breath of our air and screamed protest as any newborn child fresh from a mother's womb would do.

Then, once cleaned up and wrapped in swaddling clothes to protect the child - items Mary brought with her in preparation for this moment, there was the bond of mother and child. The first time her eyes saw Him; the first moment she held Him in her arms.

There would be cries of hunger, dirty diapers and scraped knees, seeing him through illness, education and play, disagreements as a teenager, and letting her child grow into a man, but in that first moment, there was finally Peace.

Ghost

Long before I learned much of what I have come to know, I was a believer in ghosts. I watched horror films and spooked myself silly often thereafter. I came to recognize a particular icy chill when there was a strong presence of an unseen spirit. My college roommates and I have witnessed bizarre events ranging from cold spells to objects flying by themselves. No, we did not play with ouija boards or call circles. There's enough bizarre events in New York City without that.

But what I want to discuss more at length is something that just happened - today - right in my work office. It wasn't frightening, but ... moving.

While I was sitting at my desk entering journal entries into Quickbooks, from the list that the accountants gave me for year-end reconciliation, my mind was focused on the data and numbers. There was a chill to my left side. I got up and closed the office door thinking perhaps someone had propped open the front door to the building, letting the chill air flow in.

When I sat back at my desk, I still felt the hollow, damp chill on my left side, as well as an impression that someone were leaning over my chair reading over my shoulder. I realized I may have a visitor, an unseen one.

I did something I had not done before.

I closed my eyes and prayed the Lord's Prayer / Our Father. I focused on each word as I whispered it into air around me. Then I added the following; I have no idea why and no pre-thought to the action.

If there is some lost soul beside me, dear Brother please take his hand and lead him home.

No sooner had I finished saying these words then there was a "whoosh" - best way I can describe the sensation, as if ... some one ... reached through me. I am really flubbing this description. Let me try it step-by-step.

At first there was calm Peace that I get often now when I finish a prayer. Then there was a rippling / moving sensation that felt like an energy current ran from the top of my head through my whole body and reached out beyond my aura to my immediate surroundings. Then, in less than a handful of heartbeats, it reversed. But I experienced it in such a way, my mind remembers how every nerve in my body felt - but it also had a strong sensation to my spirit, as though that too was involved.

The cold sensation was gone immediately with the "upward whoosh." As I sat there in a "WOW, what was THAT?" moment, it felt as though another cold presence moved into the space on my left. By the time I reach this point in writing, there is another presence at my lower belly, lap, knees and toes as though someone is sitting at my feet leaning on my lap.

I don't understand this. I can't explain it. Did something really happen? Did someone - did my Brother - really reach through me? Would it happen again if I prayed again? I don't know.

Part of me is quite hesitant to find out.

But there was no fear in the initial experience. Just that Peace. And more than a touch of wonder.

I trust Yeshua / Jesus.

I trust God.

I close my eyes, I say the prayer and will try again...

Two Rings

While I accept that I am Bride of the Lamb, I do - often - run into a quandary. I am not only the Sister and Bride of Yeshua (Jesus), but I am also another's bride as well. I am already married. I was wed before my calling in 2007. How then, can I give my heart completely to Yeshua AND my husband who has been faithful and true to me since our vows?

I don't want to hurt either and I love both very much.

It is said in Heaven there are no husbands and wives. Christ said that when asked to whom did a woman belong if she were widowed several times in her life.

I see the Truth now, though partially. Though there's a knot in my mind that I still wrestle.

Women belong to no man. Men belong to no women. We belong to each other - everyone to all. We belong to God. Our relationships here are but mere shadows of the interconnections there will be beyond this existence.

In this world, when one belongs to another, it is exclusive - there are jealousies, there is no sharing. When all belong to everyone, there is union and communion - there is Love for all. This is not the "free love" of the 1960's and early 1970's. This is something this world has yet to see. But it is real. It is beyond our petty jealousies and makes little of the need to "own" another.

How does that apply in my life?

Good question.

I actually CAN give myself completely to both my husband and Yeshua. Yeshua's Love does not exclude, but rather INcludes all others. So, in truth, accepting my role as Bride actually brings me closer to my husband as well. It opens my hearts to all others for I am asked to see my Brother in all others. Love all others as I would Love Him. That includes my spouse.

It is only the ego in my mind that argues that my Love for Yeshua is betraying my spouse. It isn't; it can't it's impossible. For any relationship build on Love is found in my relationship with Yeshua.

Yes, any. Parent-child. Brother-sister. Bridegroom-Bride. Husband-Wife. Friend-friend. All.

Two ring fingers have I. Two rings. One Love for all.

Pari

While I posted this in my other blog, I wanted to share this here. Maybe then I can just refer to God as I do in my thoughts and prayers. This way I don't have to dance around the pronouns and have my words flow more naturally.

Over the years, I've come to realize that God is not the Father-Son-Spirit in the way I learned as a child. There is Yeshua/Jesus who is both fully human Son as well as truly One with God. But God "the Father" isn't some old, white-haired, white-bearded guy sitting on a cloud or golden throne far over our heads looking down to watch us. And the Holy Spirit is not some red flame burning in a candle holder bracketed to the wall of the church.

These are illustrations. They are metaphors. These are simple ways to explain to a child what God is.

I am no longer a child.

God is UNKNOWABLE. God is so far outside our comprehension that we can never achieve anything close to knowing what God is.

But we can and do experience various parts / manifestations / touches / expressions of God. Many of these have found their ways into the various religions of humanity. But these are, in themselves, not the full understanding of God.

While I am Christian and grew up with Catholic teachings about the Trinity, my understanding has grown and expanded to include this. Also my relationship with God has changed.

As a male human, Yeshua/Jesus would relate to God as Father, which was the teacher, the protector and head of the family unit in His time. I've wondered if the old, white-bearded image we have of God the Father is a reflection of some wise Rabbi-like image from Christ's days here.

But God is not male. God is not female. God is neither and both simultaneously. (Wrap your head around that a moment).

Now, as a female human, I do have the concept of God the Father when I pray, listen and speak with God at times. But I grew up in the late 20th century America, a world where women played as much a dominant role in the workplace and homes, sometimes the only role model in some families.

Plus, let's face it, it's hard to speak to a Father about my first menstrual period, my experiences with a pregnancy, the agony of a miscarriage, the "squishyness" of a mammography, pain from ovarian cysts, concerns over cervical cancer, fears and fatigue around my fully hysterectomy, and gripes about natural changes and the roller-coaster of menopause. That is better suited to sharing with a Mother.

Yeshua/Jesus called God "Abba", which more precisely translated is "Daddy". To me, God is both Father and Mother. But "O Holy Parent" is a bit distant and formal. Not something I could hold dear in my heart.

So I chose "Pari" which is a familiar, child-like shortening of "Parent" akin to "Mommy" and "Daddy".

-ESA

Hands Up!

There is a pretty cool tradition (pun intended) in New England, where I now reside. Starting in October, there are hundreds of 3-4-foot (~ 1 meter) wooden posts impaled all around walkways, driveways and parking lots. They need to be up before the ground freezes and hopefully (but not always) before the first major snowfall.

Those of my readers in colder climes may immediately recognize what these wooden stakes are. Sometimes they are not wood, but metal, and in some places they are a lot higher than four feet (over one meter).

These are snow stakes used to guide shovels and snowplows when clearing the area after a snowfall. Otherwise, we may not know where the boundaries are under a beautiful pristine blanket of snow.

But on to the tradition I've only seen in New England (though I sincerely hope it's elsewhere as it's brilliant and beautifully practical). The tradition goes as this: if you find a mitten, hat or scarf on the ground, sidewalk, parking lot, etc. You locate the nearest snow stake and stick it atop the stake.

This way the owner can return to the area and locate it, even after a few inches of snow has fallen and covered up everything else on the ground.

As I said, very practical.

It's a small, simple way people take a moment out of their own busy lives to help another. Granted not every glove finds the owner by the end of winter, and by spring there are several gloves and mittens waving to the warming sun. But I've also seen mothers rescue a baby's mitten from a snow stake after a child tossed it from the stroller. I've seen an elderly man retrieve his hat that he didn't know dropped from his pocket when the afternoon turned warm.

Little gestures, people helping others without a thought of recognition.

Beautiful lights in this world.

A Whole in Mind

As I headed home from a weekend with my mother last Sunday, I had some thoughts running through my mind. I need to get the radio fixed in the Jeep, so there was plenty of silence on the long drive. One thought that predominated, and to which my mind kept returning, was thoughts about God and my mind.

We are extensions / children of God. What God creates are never separate; God is forever a part. It is only through our free will that our minds fail to recognize that we are a part of God - forever. We think we are separate from God; we think we are separate from one another, even though studies in psychology and sociology clearly indicate our connectedness and interdependence.

So, if we are part of God and part of each other, yet in our stubbornness and free-will refuse to see that, what do we see if we accept it?

I kept trying to force my mind to completely accept the idea; it was like a switch on a bad fusebox breaker that kept flipping back to the "we are separate" notion, instead of staying on the belief we are One.

Why?

I believe, for me, my mind has other things in the way, blocking it and preventing the idea from sticking. Other than the concept that I am a part of God, there is the underlying fear of "hive mind" as in the feared cyborg's from Star Trek. "Beware the Borg! They'll strip away your mind and control you." Sadly, we see enough of that work in our own societies now. Many of our rights are stripped away and the will of the few dictates the will of the populace under them.

Under them.

Ego must be greater than others in this world.

*Sigh.*

Then there is also the argument that God will not strip away our free will - or it would have been gone LONG before now. God only asks that we accept His will. God does know what is best for us, even if it is not what we want at that moment in time / learning. A toddler may insist that he really wants to play with the pretty flames on the stove top, but it is not best for him.

There is the additional argument, if we are truly extensions of God and God is still One with us, even if we are not aware of this, God is. Would God really want to self-inflict pain and suffering? Or would God want what is best for all of that God is? Is our pain, suffering and strife only because we DENY we are part and follow our own wills?

Adam and Eve leaving the garden...

Signs and Wonders - Others

While I don't have the time to go into details about these events now (I will later). I did want to note them at this time. I guess this is closer to a virtual post-it note. :P

• Sometime between First Holy Communion and Confirmation, a priest told me following a Confession that, "You are very special to God. I don't know what you will do, but you are special."
• At my Confirmation, the wind blew so hard, despite the crystal clear day, that it literally shook the church, even the Bishop commented about this.
• When I was a girl, a stranger pointed to unusual clouds I saw from a hilltop, told me it was the outside of heave and then disappeared.
• When I was 16, God spoke through me - just once.
• When I was 17, my Brother began to talk with me. I didn't know it was Him then. There were years of silence between.
• When I was 20, I met a demon face-to-face.
• In 2007, starting with dreams, my Brother began to speak with me again, teach me and reveal things to me.
• Staring in late 2007, I no longer set my alarm clock, my Brother wakes me every morning on time, regardless of the changing schedules.
• In 2008, I purchased a medallion with Yeshua's image; he touches the chain along my neck from time-to-time as a reminder that He is there with me.
• Just prior to that, three days before Valentines Day, I receive a valentine card which may have been influenced by Him.
• Also in 2008, I had a moment where my Brother spoke through another to me.
• There have been many other times I've seen His movement, inspiration, work through others since.
• In 2009, I met a stranger on the walk home from work one night, stopped, and had a long conversation about prayer and forgiveness. I was the teacher, though I had only the goal of heading home after a long day in mind when I started.
• My tweets can be remarkably inspired; many have commented that that was exactly what they needed to hear at that particular moment in their life (down to the hour).

There is more, but I need to log off for the day now. As I said, I will elaborate on these another time.

Signs and Wonders - Birth

During the doubt and fear, I had no signs for my mind to pull up. There are many, though, that I can think about now. I will share some of them with you, not to place myself above anyone, for I am sure if you search thoroughly enough, you will find signs and wonders in your own life too.

I guess, given the Christmas Season, starting with my birth is the best point. There were no singing angels (at least that I know about) at my birth, there were no shepherds, nor wise men (unless you count the hospital doctors). I was born in a standard hospital delivery room of the 1960's. There was a doctor, a nurse, my mom, and my dad reading the New York Times cover-to-cover in the waiting room - three times! Pretty spectacular, right?

Now I will share a bit more.

The year of my birth was 1969. It was the year humanity first set foot on the moon. It was the summer of Woodstock, a concert that sang of Love and Peace. Woodstock happened in August; the moonwalk was that July. My birthday fell right between the two. Not only was I born that summer; I was born in the same State (New York) that held both Woodstock and the ticker-tape parade for the returned astronauts.

Yeshua started His ministry when He was 30. Obviously, I didn't. I was busy at the time working as an Administrative Assistant in a Pennsylvania factory while taking night classes for my degree in Human Resources.

And yet...

On the morning of my 30th birthday, August 11, 1999, I climbed atop the highest peak in the area just before sunrise. I saw a tiny chip out of the sun as it rose in the distant eastern sky. There was a major solar eclipse that day, that blanketed Europe, Russia, India, Middle-East, northern Africa and more. Most of the those in the Americas could not see that eclipse, except a few at high elevations in the north-easternmost point of the North American continent. We only saw a chip out of the sun that disappeared quickly as it rose; but I saw it!

Big deal, right?

That eclipse was the precursor of a spectacular stellar conjunction, though. The sun, moon and other planets formed a cross with Earth as its center point. (Yes, Pluto was still a planet back then. :P) This happened three (3) to seven (7) days after my birthday; both three and seven are numbers that appear often in the bible.

Again, does this mean I am any more special than others in this world? No. It means there are signs in our lives we CAN find if we look for them. God does understand our need to feel recognized.

The last sign around my birth is that my mother often refers to me as her "miracle baby." Before my birth, my mother lost three pregnancies; after she had no complications and I have three younger siblings.

The fist was an ectopic (tubal) pregnancy, and thus she only had one tube connecting the ovary to the uterus thereafter. All her other pregnancies had higher odds of conception as well as other difficulties. The second pregnancy, a son, had died in utero. In those days, there was no ultrasound. They only knew something was wrong when he stopped growing and the doctor could not hear a heartbeat. She had to carry him six more months until her body delivered him naturally - a stillborn birth. The third pregnancy - another son - was healthy and vital right up until birth. During the delivery, however, the umbilical cord was wrapped around the child's throat. He died as he was born. My parents had to bury the child in an unmarked grave separate from holy ground, for the Catholic Church at that time said that un-baptised children went to purgatory, not heaven.

Then, before my conception, my mother was working as a nurse in the maternity ward. A young mother at that time had slipped out of the hospital, purposefully leaving her newborn son behind. My parents adopted the child and had raised him for about a year. Then the birth mother changed her mind and sued for the child. The courts favored the birth mothers the,n and my parents had now lost a third son.

Then I was conceived.

However, things were not doing well during this pregnancy either. There were many complications and my mother nearly lost me during the fourth month. While she was aware DES had issues, she took the drug anyway, saving my life. I am not able to have kids of my own, but I am alive and in this world as a result of this, so I bear no ill will about this decision. Interestingly, though, the drug changed my birth date. I was expected in July - early half of July. I was a month overdue. Yet, had this not happened, I would have been born before they walked on the moon and Woodstock's refrains singing about Love and Peace would not have been just days after my birth.

I would not have seen an eclipse on my 30th birthday.

Return Trip

I've been quiet too long, I know. I am back. I have a lot to say that will take several postings. This will encompass a brief note of where I've been and my return trip to this blog.

This past week, I've been plagued with doubts. MANY doubts. Who do I think I am claiming I'm Jesus' Sister? Let alone a daughter of the One True God? Who am I to say I am the Bride of the Lamb? What gives me the right to say these heretical things. After all the Church is the Bride, right? Humanity is just clay pots with the Spirit of life blown into us. Right?

Wrong!

While I know these doubts plagued me to the point of silence, I know for certain they were part of an internal battle. Humanity is not mere clay vessels, we only use these bodies to learn and to communicate with others in this world. What we truly are is that which is within and well beyond; we are extension - CHILDREN - of God, like Jesus/Yeshua. We only fail to recognize that. The Church isn't the Bride, it's an establishment to teach and guide where it is necessary. All of God's Children, when we realize who / what we are - collectively - are the Bride. I am both Sister and Bride to Yeshua.

While these doubts persisted, I sat, I sulked, I grew sicker physically. I got headaches and belly-aches, nausea and diarrhea. I was a real b__ - err- not nice company to be around. I prayed though it all; and prayers gave me bright moments of Peace in the chaos of my mind.

On Thursday afternoon, I went home early from work; it was the one afternoon all week when no one else was in the apartment. I got down on my knees, bowed low face to the floor and covered my face: PRAYING for help. Then I did something that anyone there would have thought was a sign I lost my mind completely. I started talking out loud - to God and to Yeshua.

Some were prayers, some were "reasonable" pleading and bargaining. Yet, somehow, it really helped. Hearing my voice in a silent, empty room... helped. I could hear with these ears the words clearly stating that I know I am NOT alone. That Yeshua is there with me. That He does hear me, even when I don't hear Him. That He loves me; that He cares for me. That I love Him so very much.

There were also soul-wrenching admissions of how scared I was, lost within the miasma of doubts swirling in my mind, blocking me from understanding. I felt as thought to accept that which part of me KNOWS is true would be to condemn my very soul. That Yeshua would meet me at my judgment and say, "I never knew you." That I was being misled, by the adversary, by my own mind, by my petty need to be someone special to God and Yeshua. Things the Church has ingrained in my mind for countless years of my life. I was caught with the single burning argument, If I am special to God, where are the signs? 

That was a slap-in-the-face doubt thrown up in my mind: Yeshua had signs and wonders testifying who He was. What do I have? At that moment, I could not pull one from my mind - it was empty. I wept even more miserable. Asking over and over and over - "why? why? why is there nothing for me? why? why? why do I need there to be? why do I need something I can see with these eyes? why do I need something I can hear with these ears? why? why do I need the world to witness who and what I am? why? Christ had a dove and the Father's voice! Moses had a burning bush! Mary had an angel! Joseph had dreams! Why not me?!?"

"Me?"

"Me! ME! ME-ME-ME!" Wait -a-minute! Doesn't the ego go "Me-Me-Me"? I realized after the rant where all this doubt and questions were coming from. The ego. It wanted self-proclamation. It wanted witnesses from this world - the only world it knows - to testify to others how special it is. It wants to be greater than the rest.

That is not what the Bride is. That is not what I AM.

*Sigh*

Curled into a sodden, snuffling ball of misery, my final words out loud were to my dear Brother, barely a whisper. "I will go through this, Yeshua. I love you dearly and I know you are here with me now. I will go through this and I will GET through this - for you. You are far more important than anything else I want in this world. I love you so much. I give this all to you. For you. Please help me through this."

My emotions quieted down, and a beautiful Peace descended on my mind, heart and soul. Within an hour, I was on my other blog (my "public" blog, I guess) and I started writing. I updated and shared Christmas stories I had written. The next day, I added a couple of commentaries, a "letter" and my own insight. These were the fist posts on that blog since the start of November. I was sharing there again.

The wall of silence was crumbling.

Yesterday, I spent over eight hours on Twitter, responding to others and "singing," as I call my tweets, at times. I had been silent there since Thanksgiving Day (US).

This morning, I started posting to this blog again. Peace continues and Joy swells in my heart as I write. I cannot easily describe the joy I feel, but I end up laughing as a young preschooler with simple delight. Drag me away from what I am doing at the time and I will scowl and sulk like a preschooler too - LoL. But that is something I need to work on too.

For now, I am back on the path I need to be.

Nailing to Cross - Not To Christ

I wanted to clarify what goes through my mind when I envision nailing pain and/or fear to the cross. I picture a cross - just the wood, sometimes with nails but no body. Having a good imagination, I can easily envision the details of this cross: the grain of the wood, the splinters that jut up because it was quickly hewn and unsanded.Then I mentally throw any pain and fear at this vision.

The cross itself actually bleeds in my mind. A dark red blood wells to the surface and flows down from the wood, dripping from the cross piece or runs down the main pole. Grizly, gruesome. But the pain leaves me the moment I see the blood on the cross.

I really don't understand it.

 Late yesterday evening, my mind wondered if I was hurting my Brother with this. That is the last thing I wanted to do! That was doubt bubbling up from the ego, trying to raise fear. I pushed that stray thought aside with a curt answer of, He has done that for us all and what I do is only accept His gift. A blessing.

In my mind, I saw the cross starting to bleed again, but I also had the impression I was holding someone in my arms while I looked over a shoulder at the cross a few feet away. The person in my arms was hurting and tired, the body draped limply in my strong arms, and I felt my back and shoulder muscles tighten as I kept the person from falling to the ground.

Was I holding Christ?

I really don't know for certain, but that is what my heart wants to believe. Somehow I helped my Brother a brief moment, bringing a brief moment of respite. Could it have been another - a sister or brother - who was feeling a great deal of pain and needed help? Maybe. But in all honesty, I don't know. 

When I used the toilet paper right after that moment, though, there was bright red blood staining the tissue. My blood. All other times, there was neither the mental image of holding a body nor the blood corporeal, just the image of the cross and the relief from pain.

I really don't understand; that is why I blog - trying to figure all this out...