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