Spirit

Avian Extravaganza – ND #129

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Red-Shouldered Hawk – Photo: L. Weikel

Avian Extravaganza

While I may be indulging my more reclusive tendencies lately, all of you are never far from my thoughts. So when this blustery, cloud-crowded day proved to be an avian extravaganza, I knew I’d succumb to the temptation and share a few photos of my encounters.

The photo above is a Red Shouldered Hawk – one of several nesting in the trees lining the fields around our home. Yes, they’re nesting; but it’s the mid-air swoops and daredevil dives amidst screams of passion (and sometimes what seems like relentless badgering) that makes their mating the most notable activity.

I only distinctly noticed and accurately identified the Red Shouldered Hawks in our area a year ago. In fact, I wrote about the first relentless mating calls, discernible through closed doors and windows, here just last year. I could’ve sworn it was at least two years ago, but nope. Lucky for me, I have my searchable blog posts at my fingertips to remind me of the exact dates when I started writing about these winged messengers.

Eagle Approaching Nest – Photo: L. Weikel

Eagles, Too

After I managed to sneak up on the Red Shouldered just as it took off from the wire it was perching on, surveying the field for a four-legged snack, I headed down River Road. There’s a place along the Delaware River where a massive eagles’ nest sits wedged in a proportionately gigantic sycamore on the New Jersey side. It never ceases to thrill me to see the heads of eaglets and, more obviously, the white heads of the parents, popping up from that compact-car sized conglomeration of sticks.

Just as I pulled off to the side of the road to see if I could catch a glimpse of these majestic birds of prey, one of the parents hopped up and plunged from the nest. Its broad wingspan scooped the air and it soared upriver, eluding my efforts to catch a photo of it in flight. I was excited by the sighting – I’ll forever be a child of the DDT era, when all our raptors were in serious threat of extinction – and decided to wait to see if Mommy or Daddy might return pretty quickly.

My patience was rewarded! I don’t think I had to wait longer than five or ten minutes before I caught sight of its return. And while I’m sharing the best ‘still’ shot I can manage, I wish I could upload the ‘live’ shot that captures this gorgeous bird sweeping upward and landing in the nest. It may be hard to discern the eagle because of the outstanding way in which its coloring blends so well with the sycamores and other trees lining the river.

Turkeys: “On your marks, get set, GO!” – Photo: L. Weikel

Yet Another Gift

Later today, the pups and I were cramming in a quick walk before it started sleeting. Lo and behold, four turkeys were having a little coffee klatch in the middle of the field when all of a sudden they decided to take cover. Never underestimate the speed of a running turkey. They are hilariously fast on their feet.

But when Turkey shows up in your life, it’s often heralding a gift that you need to recognize and be grateful for receiving. The turkeys I saw today reminded me of just how incredibly lucky I am to receive the gift (Turkey) of a message (Hawk) from Spirit (Eagle). And the message was probably to savor the richness of the avian extravaganza surrounding me.

For while I’m only including photos of these three species (and none of them doing justice to their subjects), I was also graced with the presence of geese, black vultures, turkey vultures, blue jays, red-winged blackbirds, mourning doves, sparrows, goldfinches, cardinals, starlings, and fish crows. And while it was a tad too cold today, I actually had my first hummingbird visit my porch on Sunday.

And the only thing better than receiving the gift of having all of these birds show up in my life all in one day, was the message – the reminder – from Spirit that I have friends with whom to share my joy.

(T+129)

Consecration – Day 1091

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Photo: L. Weikel

Consecration

Consecrate: verb (used with object) 1. to make or declare sacred; set apart or dedicate to the service of a deity. 2. to make (something) an object of honor or veneration; hallow. 3. to devote or dedicate to some purpose. (Dictionary.com)

As you may recall from last night’s post, while I chose the Ace of Air as my primary card, the 10 of Water was clearly a player in delivering the message. Considering that I was posing the question of “What’s next?” in the context of the impending conclusion of my 1111 Devotion and the sacred intention with which I began this process almost three years ago, I was surprised by the keyword of the 10 of Water: consecration.

Whether I ‘get’ the crux of that message tonight or in two weeks – or maybe even two years from now – what I find amazing is that the cards seem to realize the essence of my query.

The cards know that, fundamentally, this is all about making the ordinary sacred. It’s all about lighting upon an act that I might consecrate in memory of my Karl. Choosing to engage in an action which might ordinarily be viewed as routine and making it holy; making it sacred and meaningful in a way that transcends ordinary day-to-day consciousness. This is my quest.

Underneath My Ace

As I described in yesterday’s post, a few pretty salient details jumped out at me as I contemplated the illustration of the 10 of Water as depicted by the illustrator of the Witches’ Wisdom Tarot*, Danielle Barlow. There were a number of powerful symbols that had personal meaning to me and the pursuit of my spiritual path.

But again, sometimes the magic of perceiving a message being sent to us by Spirit, or even ‘just’ our own subconscious, or Higher Self, or soul is enhanced by considering all the opportunities provided us to ‘get the message.’ And that includes not only relying heavily – and primarily – on our own intuition and insight, but also availing ourselves of the nuances that lurk in the words or symbols proffered by others. For instance, the particular words and phrases used by the creator of the deck or other oracle we might be using.

10 of Water – The Witches’ Wisdom Tarot by Phyllis Curott, Illustrated by Danielle Barlow

My next step, therefore, was to consider and pay acute attention to these words:

“10 of Water – Consecration

Wisdom – Verdant, humid, and embracing, the rainforest grows. Tree and Vine, Butterfly and bright-beaked Toucan, tiny Tree Frog and fearsome, holy Jaguar peer through the leaves. Rain pours from above, pools on the ground below, seeps deep into the Earth, and rises to make everything grow. The rain is full of music – songs telling stories of this magical place that makes the world better for all of Life. The rainforest is wild and full of wonder, danger and divinity, chaos and perfection. There is Life and there is death, but there is no evil. It’s raining and everything is blessed.

Essence – Wonderment, flourishing, blessings. The rewards of feeling fully. Water of Life.

Counsel – What is the song your heart is secretly singing? What is the divine magic hiding within you? There’s no reason for self-doubts or fear. Step outside your comfort zone and into the magic of Creation. No matter how turbulent the Waters of Life may be, how hard the rain, muddy the river, or unknown the rainforest, remember, you’re made of Water, and Water makes all things grow and flourish.

Magic – Go out in the rain. Listen. What’s it saying to you? Reach out your arms and feel the Water on your skin. Stick out your tongue and drink it in. Wash your face with it. Let it bless you. Feel your heart open to all that is manifesting…”

My Interpretation

The word ‘listen’ comes up and is prominent in both cards. Abundance surrounds the question I’ve asked. Perhaps that means there are (or will be) an abundance of choices on what is the best next action for me to consecrate to my cherished son.

Again, I feel ‘patience’ is also a watchword that needs to be heeded. Yes, Spirit understands my desire to know ‘what’s next.’ But for now, my focus needs to remain on the 1111 Devotion. I must dedicate myself to successfully concluding my first Act of Power with impeccability. ‘What’s next,’ if anything, will reveal itself in perfect timing.

I will listen. And perhaps, if the stars line up just right, I’ll even open my mouth.

*affiliate link

(T-20)

He Shows Up – Day 1078

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He Shows Up – Photo: L. Weikel

He Shows Up

It’s hard to describe how much it means to me to have all my kids together at the same time. This weekend was one of those rare treats. Of course, no matter what, there’s always a hole in the fabric of any such gathering because Karl isn’t here. And while it’s not as if we act all maudlin and morose, there’s not a one among us who doesn’t think about him every day – but especially when we’re together. And then, miraculously – inevitably – he shows up.

The weather today lent itself especially to hanging out together and enjoying a fire. The creative juices were flowing and there was some serious pumpkin carving artistry taking place. Puppies reveled in the attention they were receiving from every direction.

Besides our conversations (which, to be honest, mostly centered on Pacha and Brutus), the crackling and popping voice of the fire was the primary sound track of our day.

Brutus & Pacha on a walk 24 Oct 2021 – Photo: L. Weikel

Did You Hear That?

Just as the afternoon was starting to grow some shadows, a couple of us perked up and shushed the others. “Did you hear that?” we asked together. It was the weirdest sound – a chirruping that did not sound familiar at all.

Movement down by the barn caught my eye and Sarah cried out, “It’s a raccoon! Look!”

Sure enough, a raccoon had just slipped into our barn. I barely made out the tip of its tail before it, too, disappeared into the dark innards of the deep red outbuilding. None of us were quick enough on the draw to snap a photo, but we all had to smile. “He had to make an appearance.”

The raccoon continued to make its plaintive cry, though. Only a minute or two later, it poked its head back out the barn door, then hopped out and scurried/waddled around the corner and past the compost pile. Oddly, it didn’t even hesitate at the pile. That usually has treats for all comers of one stripe or another.

Compelled to Follow

The appearance of this lovely, robust raccoon on a perfect fall day when ‘all of us’ are gathered together felt important. Significant.

Yes, we have raccoons that live around here. But it is rare to have them show up during daylight hours, calling a plaintive cry, and clearly on a mission. I felt compelled to follow it and see if I could see what it was doing and where it was headed.

Making sure the puppies were otherwise distracted, I headed out behind the barn. I meandered around the islands of wavy wild grass and the burial mounds of Sheila and Spartacus. I checked out the cherry tree Karl had nearly killed as a young kid.

And then I heard it. What a strange sound. Beyond the Weeping Willows and the eldest Sycamore tree, I heard a sound I can’t even write about phonetically. It was soft at first, and then I caught sight of the raccoon crossing the small creek at the back of our property. It was close – and it stopped and faced me as I realized we were going to encounter each other face-to-face.

It looked right at me and called out its plaintive cry. For the life of me, she sounded like a mommy, calling for her babies. Her coat was thick and beautiful, her eyes bright and her ears perky and aware. Her tail jerked expressively in time with her vocalizations.

Mommies and Babies

This raccoon spoke to me directly twice. It wasn’t afraid; it was demanding. On one level, I do believe it was looking for its babies. On another level it was serving as a messenger to tell me even my baby who’s no longer in a physical body is nevertheless here. Now. Reminding me – no, insisting that I acknowledge: when we need him most, he shows up.

And when I walked back up to the house, marveling at my mystical encounter? After looking at the video and live photos I’d taken (complete with audio), Tiffany gestured toward the pumpkin seed heart she’d found while I was behind the barn.

There are no coincidences. Messages surround us. As much as we miss Karl, I have no doubt he misses us as well and wants us to know: he’s with us in spirit.

Yeah, we love you too – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-33)

Raptor Watcher – Day 922

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Raptor at My Back – Photo: L. Weikel

Raptor Watcher

I’ve been talking to Spirit a lot lately. Asking for guidance, maybe a friendly nudge in the right direction, yesterday in particular I sensed I was being heard. I feel I’m on the verge of receiving a response to my queries. And the reason for my optimism is the appearance of the raptor watcher.

The air feels pregnant to me; it’s almost electric in the sense of power I feel is building, but not yet found a place to strike.

As I drove to and from the courthouse yesterday, I must’ve seen at least six hawks. Not all at once, as in, a kettle of hawks. No, each one made an appearance as a unique and distinct visitor to my awareness.

At least four of them were being hounded by crows and smaller birds, perhaps sparrows or possibly starlings. It was obvious the hawks being bombarded had been on nest-raiding missions. Were these details significant? Who knows! I wasn’t feeling the love nor sensing a particular message.

Stop at the Creek

On my way home I decided to make a quick pit-stop at the Tohickon. Honestly, I didn’t feel particularly worthy of having a chat with her in that moment, but too much time had elapsed since I’d stopped and said hello. I even vowed not to whine to her if I stopped for five minutes just to settle my bones.

I parked in my most frequented pull-over spot and marveled at how low the water table is. The banks of the Tohickon appear dry and exposed, which worries me, given it’s only the 21st of May. What will the creek look like in early August?

As I exited my vehicle, I started speaking out loud to both the Tohickon herself and the creatures who live within and along her banks. I deliberately tried to steer the conversation away from my prior musings and questions, which echoed like whining to me in that moment.

No. I didn’t need anything obvious. All I needed was some creek time, some quiet and peaceful ‘alone time’ with the body of water from whom I source significant personal energy.

I scanned the trees lining the opposite side of the Tohickon for any avian visitors. Not a one in sight. I guess I’ve seen enough hawks for the day, I thought. And in that moment, I turned my head to look to my right. Right there, vaulting from a tree across the way from me was a Bald Eagle high tailing it downstream. As soon as I caught sight of it working its way down the creek about five feet above the surface of the water, it veered off to the right and disappeared.

“Get your nest out of the swamp,” I heard echo in my head. “Stop indulging in these sad thoughts,” was another comment. “Knock it off,” said an even less patient messenger.

Blue Heron right beside me – Photo: L. Weikel

Blue Heron Chimes In

There’s no question I felt moved and honored by Eagle’s decision to show up in my life, even if it was brief and only showing me its hind end. Hopefully I’ll never take Eagle’s appearance in my life for granted.

I reminded myself that I’d stopped to take photos of the Tohickon and the shocking shallowness of her waters. Taking my iPhone out of my pocket, I snapped a shot downstream, wishing Eagle would pop back out and make another appearance. But no. That didn’t happen.

I turned to look upstream and nearly fell over when I realized I was fewer than ten yards away from a Blue Heron standing proudly erect on a boulder just beyond where I stood. Oh my goodness, what a surprise. And to think all this time I’d been blithely talking out loud to the creek and to any other creature that happened to be listening.

“No one’s going to give you the answers you seek. You need to go within and do your own self-reflection,” I heard. “Listen to Eagle. Get your nest out of the swamp. Spend some time by yourself. You know the questions you need to ask. And you know you’re the only one who can answer them.”

Ummm. OK.

Raptor Watcher – close up – Photo: L. Weikel

Final Point

About 90 minutes later, I found myself walking with Spartacus. Still encountering some internal static in spite of my Creek encounters, I wasn’t even of a mind to pull a card or engage in any of my trusted practices. I just walked and picked up butts along the roadside.

A fracas in the stand of trees behind me caused me to turn around. I saw Crows dogging a Red-tailed Hawk for probably the fifth time that day.

And then I saw it. Looming in the sky above me. Had those messengers not secured my attention, I almost certainly would have missed the Raptor Watcher at my back.

No, the title to this blog was not a reference to me as a watcher of raptors. Rather, it was a reference to the Raptor – be it a Hawk or an Eagle, I can’t quite discern which – that had its eye on me as I walked home last night. I’ve been given the word. Will I listen?

(T-189)

Stalked By Spirit – Day 791

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Bald Eagle over the Tohickon – Photo: L. Weikel

Stalked By Spirit

Well, let’s face it. I think if any of us are going to be stealthily pursued by anyone or anything, getting stalked by Spirit is unquestionably the best option.

I wrote the other day, last Tuesday as a matter of fact, that I’d been feeling pretty anxious over, well, lots of things, but in particular the Senate run-off elections in Georgia taking that day. (Is it even possible that not six days have gone by since that election?)

As we know, a great victory for democracy was won that day (at least in my opinion); two victories, actually, although one wasn’t officially ‘called’ until the next – exponentially more momentous – day.

Writing in my journal as I sat beside my beloved Tohickon Creek, I felt an oppressive sense weighing me down. A sense of foreboding. Or perhaps it was a feeling that I – we – were on the brink of being forsaken by our better angels. My outlook dramatically shifted when I caught sight of the bald eagle perched at the surface of the creek. I felt heard. Seen. Acknowledged – somehow reassured that all would be well.

Bald Eagle ‘in’ the Tohickon – Photo: L. Weikel

Two Days Later

Two days later, just this past Thursday, Karl and I took a walk in the middle of the day. Naturally, our conversation was consumed by the events we’d helplessly witnessed unfolding the day before, before our very eyes, as insurgents attempted a coup at our nation’s capitol.

Suddenly, a gorgeous bald eagle appeared from behind a massive pine tree we were approaching. The surprisingly mewling, creaky cry of this raptor, which is so different than the distinct shriek of a red-tailed hawk, registered in the back of my mind as our faces swept up to catch sight of it wheeling and turning right above our heads, not more than 15 feet above us.

We were buzzed by a bald eagle. Only two days after I’d had that magical sighting right on the creek.

Yesterday

I returned to the creek again yesterday (Saturday). I needed a little time to listen to the soothing voice of the Tohickon and write in my journal again. Digesting the details of the events that are unspooling before our very eyes is no easy task. Making sense of the reactions of both our lawmakers and our fellow citizens is growing increasingly difficult. Figuring out our place and what we can do to shape the outcome of these times we’re living in is an essential task.

The day was overcast again and there was precious little animal or bird activity. A ‘V’ of seven Canadian geese flew west, upstream. But that was it. Nor did I expect anything. Everything felt dormant to me. In hiding. Withdrawn.

Eventually, I turned my car around and headed home. Just as I approached the bridge where I caught sight of the hawk four days before, I looked up. Wheeling in wide loops above me was the eagle. I swear, it’s the same one. But who knows? It’s certainly all within its territory.

I was able to pull over and snag a shot of it as it swooped in arcs above my head. Slowly, lazily, it wove its way downstream.

Three sightings in the span of six days. Yes, I can explain it away logically. I live within the territory of this bird. Of course I’m going to see it.

But I choose to believe there’s a bit more consciousness behind these encounters. A little bit more mystery, more intention, more connection.

Medicine Card Message

A couple sentences from the entry about Eagle (whose keyword is Spirit) from Medicine Cards* by Jamie Sams and David Carson:

“In learning to fiercely attack your personal fear of the unknown, the wings of your soul will be supported by the ever-present breezes which are the breath of the Great Spirit.

…

If you have been walking in the shadow of former realities, Eagle brings illumination. Eagle teaches you to look higher and to touch Grandfather Sun with your heart, to love the shadow as well as the light. See the beauty in both, and you will take flight like the Eagle.”

Hmm.

Three’s a charm. Perhaps it’s time to pay attention. Maybe stop walking in the shadow of former realities. Perhaps it’s time to really and truly start paying attention to Spirit’s teachings.

*affiliate link

(T-321)

Raising the Roof on My Comfort Zone – Day 213

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Clouds parting and bringing clarity – Photo: L. Weikel

Raising the Roof on My Comfort Zone

As I mentioned last night, my decision to raise my rates has been a long time coming. It wasn’t a decision I made lightly, by any means.

Many factors played into my decision, as you might expect.

But yesterday, as I contemplated making my announcement public by writing about it here, I felt all my worries and doubts lining up for one last swipe at my decision.

The wind yesterday was brisk and it was chilly on our porch. I picked up the deck of Medicine Cards and walked, barefoot, onto our lawn, shuffling all the while. I looked up into the sky and watched the clouds, which had blanketed the sky only moments earlier, open up to reveal brilliant azure clarity above my head. I felt myself connecting with the cool green grass beneath my feet as I opened my heart to receiving one last oomph of GUIDANCE.

As I meandered, I said out loud to anyone who would hear (but really, I was addressing Spirit), that increasing my rates was really pushing me out of my comfort zone, that I was really feeling anxious and conflicted over it.

The Wind Steps In

At that, the wind whipped in, picked a card off the deck as I shuffled the cards in my hands and swept that card face down into the birdbath, which was full of fresh, clear rain water from the storms of the night before.

Miraculously, the card landed on the surface of the water gently and without a sound. I snatched the card up, refusing to allow the card to get ruined by plunging into a birdbath, gently wiping it to ensure no permanent damage was done.

The card that Spirit had chosen ‘for’ me was Ant. The keyword for Ant is Patience. Glancing at the rest of the deck, which I continued to clutch in my left hand, I saw that Black Panther was stalking my pick, informing me on how I should interpret that “Spirit-assisted” pick. Black Panther’s keyword are ‘Embracing the Unknown.”

Wow. OK. I felt totally OK with having PATIENCE, which was interesting, because years and years ago, that was the single-word response I received when I took one of my first journeys and asked for guidance. I simply saw the word PATIENCE – in all caps – right in front of my closed eyelids. That frustrated me to no end.

Patience/Embracing the Unknown

But this time? It felt good. It felt OK. I felt that Spirit was telling me to FOLLOW THROUGH with this shift (of which raising my rates is a part) and to have patience. Yes, it may cause me to ‘lose’ potential clients that would have come to me had I left my rates where they’ve been for 15 years. But if I have patience (and accept that this IS a leap from my comfort zone – “into the VOID OF THE UNKNOWN”) things may work out in ways I cannot even fathom right now.

Yes, I must leap (Black Panther), but first and foremost, I MUST EXERCISE PATIENCE. Which means yeah, I’m probably going to encounter some backlash and some scary times. Yeah, it’s not necessarily going to be easy or a walk in the park. But it is the right thing to do.

I’ll admit that this was my first true ‘hit’ on what the Ant/Black Panther combo was telling me.

Doubt Rears Its Head

But then, of course, my freaking nemesis, doubt – that Spirit could actually, truly, be encouraging me to think bigger, dream bigger, to believe that I am here to help deliver a message, in service, that people will benefit from hearing and incorporating into their lives – kicked in.

I chastised myself: Maybe the Ant card landing in the birdbath meant, “Yeah, you need to just settle down. Don’t act in haste by raising your rates so dramatically. Settle the $#%@ down. Be patient.”

And that thought just felt awful. I felt every cell in my body droop. It deflated me and made me feel sad – as if I were letting myself down in the worst way.

Realizing how profoundly my old habits of indulging my doubt and second-guessing the message I’d intuited with such crystal clarity in those first moments made me feel utterly defeated, I chose, then and there, to honor my knowing.

I’m revealing these thoughts and the process through which I butted heads with my doubts to show that I understand how tough it can be to honor our knowing. When I ask clients to do hard things, it’s not as if I’m asking you to do anything I wouldn’t demand of my own self.

The Road Ahead – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-898)

Trust and Timing – Day Twenty Three

Posted on by Lisa Weikel 4 Comments

Trust and Timing

Last night I almost wrote about ‘timing’ and ‘trust.’ The context out of which that potential topic arose was a recent scenario involving my extended family.

Before I get into the details, it’s only fair to admit to the long-standing and sometimes seemingly never-ending effort it has taken me to trust myself.

Not Trusting Myself? Or Not Trusting Spirit?

Hmm. Even as I write those words, I realize that’s not entirely accurate. It’s not always a case of me not trusting myself, or struggling to trust myself. At least in the context that I’m writing tonight, it’s almost always more a case of not trusting my connection to Spirit. Or, perhaps blasphemously, just basically not trusting Spirit. Period.

Sometimes that lack of trust springs from approaching an issue or situation from an overly intellectual perspective. I think I’ve written about this elsewhere, perhaps on my website, and I know I’ve spoken about it in many retreats and mentorships. It comes up because, well – for a lot of reasons, I guess.

I’m loathe to consider myself a flighty or insubstantial person. I was raised – and Karl and I raised our sons – to value education and pursue life-long cultivation of our minds. My education and career as an attorney is a big part of who I am and how I approach the world. I love a well-researched, logical, and precise argument or exposition. I like things to make sense.

So, when I first started working with the spiritual aspect of life – when I started learning how to take shamanic journeys and allowing myself to see, hear, and otherwise experience other ‘realities’ (and simply giving myself permission to entertain the possibility that other ‘realities’ could actually exist ) – it was a risk. I was entering into territory where I risked ridicule. Disbelief. Doubt.

I’ll write about what it was like for me to first journey another time.

Cultivating Trust in Spirit

For purposes of this post, I want to talk about how I’ve had to cultivate my trust in Spirit/God/Goddess/All That Is/Creator. Whatever you want to call that Source energy from which everything we know comes. I use the word ‘had’ deliberately because without that trust, I am confident I would have mucked up a lot of amazing experiences.

For instance, my niece and nephew endured a terrible tragedy earlier this year. I am at once intimately familiar with their pain and at the same time completely unable to fathom it.

When this tragedy unfolded, I felt a responsibility to be there for them, to provide whatever support or compassion I might uniquely be able to afford them.

But following the initial days, when many gathered and comforted as family and friends do, I got that weird ‘sense’ I’ve come to know – and trust – that is Spirit’s way of telling me what to do. Or not do. As weeks stretched on and I could see and feel the rawness being experienced, I wanted to provide insight. I wanted to do even more than that. I wanted to offer my unique interface with Spirit to ease their sorrow.

But Spirit said, “No.”

This made me uncomfortable, because even though I did reach out sporadically, privately, there was a part of me that sensed that they felt neglected by me. Or abandoned.

And yet, I kept checking in. “Is it time? May I?” And Spirit kept saying gently, “No. Not yet.”

“Trust.”

Trusting Divine Timing

Then just this past weekend, something shifted. I sensed it more and more each day. Both of them, but especially my niece, who I knew was away at a retreat specifically dedicated to their situation, were on my mind and in my heart. Each day, a part of me was sitting with her, just holding her and asking Spirit to heal her great pain.

Quite to my surprise, on Sunday afternoon, I had gone out to pick up a few things at the store. I was literally urged (and there is that trust of which I speak coming through and demanding to be honored) to pull over and send a text to my niece. As it happened, she was a passenger in the car of a fellow retreater, so we were able to have a ‘conversation.’

And the miracle is that I could tell she was ready. The timing was perfect.

Our dialogue continued the next day, as well, and it is hard for me to describe the gratitude I feel at the sense that everything is unfolding more perfectly than I, in my intellectual arrogance or maybe just human, stubborn, desire to help on my terms, when I thought I should, could ever have envisioned.

It’s times like these that I know I am not doing this alone. And wow, am I glad I’m always striving to cultivate that trust.

(T-1088)