Sunday morning
I had just sat in the most glorious silence
Bestowing soul rest from the merciful womb of the Divine, my Mama
I arise to use the bathroom and as I cross the threshold I am slain in the spirit
thrown to my knees with the love of my Padre
The night before my friend of over 30 years had spoken of his desire that their daughter- a new, young mother herself,
know of his wish to be a help. Not just any help but a Daddy who would sacrifice. A daddy who would
do whatever is needed (crying again here) to make her load lighter. He said it in such a tender and earnest way that my heart stored it away until this moment to inform me of a deeper, higher truth about our Maker.
Where do we see this depth, this sacrifice? One place is on the cross, another is in the womb of Mary.
I’ve come to call YahWeh Padre of late and I’m bawling now as a stream of ‘thank yous’ pour forth from my lips
On my knees on that tiny gray rectangle of bath mat
Not caring if my husband hears
Thank you, Thank you, Thank you
I see it now Daddy
You are doing everything you can to assist me in my life
Making ways where there was no way
Growing me, my capacity
Humbling me
Softening my once fearful, protective layer
I had a golden statue within, a pillar of salt
Preserved selves, melting now
And OH! the pain of awakening. I was numb, asleep
Not dead though– the best news! If you are reading this I named you from my child’s pose
I asked Padre to shower you in this way
Seize you in this way
Arrest you in this very way
Because whether or not you had/have a natural father who is like my friend, your Soul
longs for this experience of love
Being slain is the release of every fear that we are not enough
The letting go of every story
Resting once again in the womb of our Mama, nursed at the breast of El Shaddai
Manna from Heaven
Just enough for this day
encounterillumination 