Monday, March 15, 2010

Dearest God,

I have discovered you in small spaces. This morning I lay in an MRI machine, something I am not particularly fond of, having a scan of my brain. (I was glad to hear later that I still had one.) I can get claustrophobic at times; however, without medicine as a calming agent, I trusted in you. I prayed my way through the testing.

I loved the pictures you brought to my mind. You took me to the ocean at dawn, the sun not quite breaking the surface. There I danced as a sign of my love and devotion for you. And then you took me into the deep, dark depths of space where I watched two figures dance by the light of the stars. I knew it was the two of us just like we danced the first time more than a decade ago when I was recovering from breast cancer. Just before the scanner took the last picture you revealed an image of me dancing once again at the ocean but this time I danced in the moonlight at the ocean's edge. The full moon reflecting upon the water I saw myself dancing in white, my skirt full and flowing as I turned and twisted, allowing my body to be free, liberated from any troubles or worries. I was simply a fully open, quietly joyous, faith-filled soul dancing in the spirit.

You do wondrous things, my dearest friend. You point me heavenward, toward eternity so that the glow of glory shines on my face, always because I am looking to you.

Guide me,
Great God,
toward all things
that are
of you.
Let my heart
always be filled
with eternity.
May the fire
of your spirit
always burn
within me
so that
my devotion
will continuously
flow out
of me
to you.
Wondrous Creator,
let my steps
of faith
be the
steps toward heaven,
I pray.

Love, Andrea