Life's Ritual

Dear Heavenly Father,

Our last communion left me feeling empty —or, I should say, emptied. I must tell you that feeling is uncomfortable, disorienting even. My humanness would have me fill that emptiness with looking at pointless screens and listening to useless media or focusing on past fears and future worries. But then, the emptiness calls to me. It has a fertility to it that I can’t quite explain yet; a seed of something that wants to grow.

So, I’ve been watching my environment and tuning into my surroundings. As I’ve done so, my outer world has come into focus with my inner world.

The sun shines when I’m searching. The clouds form when I’m questioning. The wind blows when I’m turbulent. The bird's song guides me. The moon’s gaze calms me. The stars show me. The Spirit whispers with the earth’s flow, teaching, responding, comforting.

This makes me think that heaven is not so far away. It could be as close as touching a tree. As I type these words, in this very moment, I ask myself, why is a tree the first thing that comes to mind when I think about touching heaven? I must intuitively know that the tree represents my mother there. Is it She who is Spirit?  

Father, a few nights ago, I reached to close the window blinds as I typically do before I go to bed. A thought came to me, “No, leave them open.” I lay sheltered and warm in my bedroom, looking at the night sky, not expecting, but wondering what I might see. The hours passed. I slept. I saw nothing.

The following night, the same thought, “Leave them open.” Again, I saw nothing.

Leaving my blinds open has become a ritual. It is me responding to your call to the fertile emptiness. I wait for what will fill the sky. And although the empty feeling is uncomfortable, as my outer and inner worlds become less differentiated, my whole world becomes more purposeful, and that is a comfort.

Lastly, Father, I said that I would pray, the next time a rainbow came my way, for your daughters’ pain to be taken away. That rainbow did come in the view of my mind's eye; in a dream I had across the brightened sky. At this time, I leave my prayers for their hearts and their voices, in your loving hands and in your daughters’ choices. That they find their own rainbows and, with hope, be filled. That they look to you and upon your strength they build.

I feel closer to you than I have ever been.   

Your daughter sincerely,

Emily

Amen.