thank you for this hard time

Liz Clark art.

I had no idea I could trust this much. 

The bills will get paid, the roof won't leak, you will figure out how to scan. Do not panic that half your life has been ripped away. "I trust that You have this. You have had my whole life , why would you let me go now? Lord, I trust in You."

I had no idea how real the afterlife is.

The veil between here and there is quite thin and I believed that but now I know it. Deeply. My life with John continues in a new and different way. One day, after his passing , I asked John if he was still around. The next morning I was awakened to his voice loudly calling "Honey." Except for that day, I don't ask for these nudges, whispers, dreams, synchronicities but they come and for just a moment ease the pain. I am on my knees in gratitude. 

I had no idea how deeply I could love. I always knew that I didn't want to be away from John for more than two days and not having him in my life was unthinkable. But now I am in awe of how deep that love was and is and what a gift to have that in my life. It is not given to everyone, this kind of love.

 I had no idea what the beatitude: " Blessed are they who mourn, they shall be comforted" would look like. A friend who walks you out of church every Sunday, holding your hand. A note, a ham dinner, flowers, calls, songs, a book. They come, the Body of Christ, and they comfort. His people. 

One friend moved away a few years ago but her words as she reads my stories have been such a blessing. I have a small book that she sent "Grief Therapy". On page two I read this: " Be open to the pain of your broken heart. God enters through the brokenness". That's what I have been trying to say.

a ghost, St.Anthony finds things and I'm not crazy.

   

A poem dropped in my messages yesterday that caused quite a stir. My niece, who has been a rock in my storm, sent it and it has this verse:

                                        You're the Ghost 

                 ......."You walk around ,doing all the right things,

                            putting one foot in front of the other,

                    living, but it's really as though you're the ghost 

                               ...perhaps you are 

             perhaps your soul searches, until you find the one you miss.."

Bingo! That is exactly what I have been doing. Looking for John. Holding on to John. Rereading journals, looking for his thoughts, his name....reading books he mentions in some letters and notes he left behind. A constant search for the one who is lost. I must be crazy.

Yesterday I got in my mind that I had to find the rosary that John gave me when we were dating. A beautiful silver one that we hoped to pray while kneeling on the floor with the children we would have. I hadn't used it because it was broken in some way but I knew I had it somewhere.

Try the desk, no, try the trunk, no, try every closet in the house. Crying, sad, saying sorry I didn't take good care of it. Praying to St. Anthony. Using all the tissues in the house, lunatic weeping. Finally I was exhausted and gave up. Then later when I was less addled, the saint whispered :"Try the desk again". There it was, not among the ten others but in a plastic bag to keep it safe. See, I did treasure it and keep it. My precious gift.

The poem ends this way:

                    ....."...until you find the one you miss, and they tell you to go back and live.

                               You don't belong here in the ether,

                         nor do you need to search for the one you lost,

                       they find you and when they do, you'll feel it."

Thank you Donna Ashworth (poem), Teresa and St. Anthony for helping me realize that being a searching ghost is O.K., that when he finds me I do feel it and that is good and maybe I am just a little bit not crazy.

the harvest

 

I have kept a journal since 1987 when I started a running log.

1-28-87 Wed.  "Ran about a mile with John and Charlie. Felt awful, had to stop."   

 If I was being swept away by a raging river and you were on the shore and couldn't help me but shouted: "Any last words of wisdom?" I would gurgle and yell: "KEEP A JOURNAL."

 I found these words yesterday in my journal: "08-09-99 Hot Springs Jesuit House of Prayer. "Soon I meet with Fr. George.  What will it be like? A kind man who knows how to listen. He said the work of the Holy Spirit is this:

-Unity-mending relationships.

-Guidance-where to go.

-Enlightenment- so we see the truth

-Urges us to use our gifts.

Never heard this truth put this way. Yes."

On 12-22-20 I received this vision while sitting with a spiritual directee.

 "Three words kept floating by: waves, harvest and obedience. Over and over .Then I saw a person sitting on the shore with waves breaking over her legs, going in and out. She just sat there and after awhile she started crying, sobbing, bereft. A thin wispy Being came and sat next to her. A Being almost like a mirage having just enough substance to be seen. The Being spoke:

"What is the matter? The woman said: "I am lost." The Being said "You mean you don't know where you are? " "No," the woman said "I don't know why I am here." "Ah," the Being said, "I can help with that. In the sand make a list of your talents, personality traits, proclivities, what positive things you have to offer the world and next to that write how you are using each one for the Kingdom, for the good of yourself and others." 

With that the woman got up and went home with a new purpose and the Being stepped into the sea."

The date of this vision was 12-22-20, exactly one year to the day that John left me bereft.

The waves of grief come and go, I will be obedient and use my talents and leave it all in the hands of the Being who knew what was to happen and gave me a roadmap. The harvest is His.