Thursday, December 7, 2006

Dearest God,

A third entry into heaven.

My time each morning in the basement of my home, in comfortable jammies writing and walking is a prized occasion. I find God amid my Christmas ornament-laden floor, books scattered all about, toys and boxes, papers and magazines. My treadmill is stuck between Fisher Price houses, Harold's mother's ancient couch, the cement wall, and an old table and chairs (sewing machine gathering dust on top). Yet in this messy room, God stirs.

I was walking on my treadmill, eyes closed, listening to Christmas music sung by children. As always I make an opening in my soul, an intentional space where God visits me. At first I see a dusky darkness, then light begins to enter and I feel an opening swell within me. Nothing else resides there at that moment, no clutter, just beautiful open space, foggy white with no top or bottom, sides, just openness. A welcoming scene for God.

A picture of Ann emerged. She is lying on her "dying" bed. The room is quiet. Her brother is at her right shoulder. He is resting. My daughter, Ann's daughter too (Ann is my daughter's stepmother) is asleep, her head laying on the bed at Ann's right hip. A few feet away is Bill, Ann's husband. He too is asleep. I see this picture in my soul.

Then suddenly, quietly, slowly Ann rises up. She is light, no heaviness. She smiles, a very big smile, a quiet smile. She is beautiful as she rises up. Her face is aglow as she looks forward. She moves from her bed toward her husband, then touches his right shoulder. Then she simply rises up while everyone sleeps. There is peace in the room. And Ann moves toward more peace. The scene ends and I thank God.

Later in the morning I called my daughter who is staying with Ann at the hospice center. I relay the vision to Jill. "Mom, please tell Ann." She begs me. "I'll put the phone next to her ear." Although Ann has been totally unresponsive I share the scene with her. I tell her how beautiful she is and how God loves her, how happy her face is as she rises up. Jill tells me Ann blinks her eyes.

Ann is laboring to enter heaven. Her physical body is shutting down; her spiritual body is finding its source to rise up. She has fought to stay behind, to live on earth these last two years. Just a thin layer of skin over a 5'9" frame and about 75 lbs now, she is not capable of remaining.
Joy, the eternal variety, will claim her and Ann will find the love she has sought all her life.

This picture, this scene, this vision or revelation is exquisite in detail. Joy lifting up out of sorrow and brokenness. Peace, silence. So quiet is this raising up that no one stirs. All is peace.

These momentary happenings are moving me toward Christmas. I cannot explain their drawing power, nor the ways in which they are particularly made manifest. I just know God in them, a quiet, peaceful, spontaneous event, brief, just enough to stir my spirit, showing me God, carrying me to the great event. I am ready, I am ready.

Living God,
all is aglow
when you are present.
Time temporarily takes a break.
No need to move on.
Quiet, silence,
peace is pervasive.
I am struck
by the majesty of it all.
My own soul is lifted up;
I too rise up,
to look forward,
to smile
with anticipation.
God is here,
no,
God is not "here";
I have entered heaven's realm.
God is the center
of this holy space;
I entry as if to visit briefly,
momentarily.
I am at peace with God.

Eternally yours, Andrea