My Books Available Now on Amazon ebooks

Amazon Kindle books now have some of my books. Please keep checking for more titles as they become available. Thanks!

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

The tapestry of my life

Ever since I can remember, I've known that God exists. I'm not sure about dogmas & theologies & what others have said about God, but I am sure about what I know about God from the experience of my life.

One of the ways I look at life is that for each of us it is a tapestry, woven thread by thread. Some threads are ugly individually, but woven into a tapestry they create subtlety & depth. Some threads are of our choosing, some seemingly come from out of nowhere. Each moment, each person, each event, all of it becomes part of who we are, or at least of what eyes we look through & interpret life. The good news is that this is an unfinished tapestry. As I awaken more to God, the threads I choose reflect that Light. The texture that is woven becomes finer. The dark, shadow threads get woven in more quickly to give definition & are rarely dwelt upon. Life is made new.

I can remember Light & Peace & a feeling of God's Presence when I was about 3. I vaguely recall what they called "The Cradle Roll" in the Methodist Church in Grove City, PA. I remember a flash of danger in the crib at home & being saved. I saw the Light then too. There are flashes in my aging memory from time to time from those early days before we moved to CA when I was 7. Most of the 1st 7 years are really vague, however. Perhaps in this writing, more will be triggered to be remembered. Maybe not.

I will tell you about the biggest moment with God I can remember in my early life. I think I was about 8. My mother's mother lived with us. Let me just say that she was not right mentally or emotionally. One morning she had me cornered in the laundry room with a knife on my throat. Then I was in the garage, locked in. She was pounding on the door, "Dolly let me in, let me in. Don't tell mommy & daddy." etc... I stood there stunned. There had been a Light. I had been swept into the safety of the garage & the door had been locked. I stayed there all day until my father came home from work. I knew there was a power greater than I, and that was God, and God cared for me & could save me. I have often pondered that day & the radiant thread that it wove into the tapestry of my life.

In retrospect, there may have also been a moment at my birth. One day in Moscow, a friend told me she was psychic & had to tell me something. She told me that when I was born & in the same hospital, there was another baby born who died & somehow it had to do with the need for me to live as I had a big spiritual work to do. I thought this was really strange. One day when I was visiting my parents, what she said came to me. I asked if another baby had died in the hospital when I was born. My father looked nervous & said "yes." My mother denied it vehemently. Finally they agreed that it was true, but they acted very strangely about it all. I had one of those odd, goosebumpy moments. They asked me, of course, how I had such information & were speechless, when I told them about the woman in Moscow. Then they shut off all conversation about it. They would talk of it no more. I have ever since wondered if I was a twin, or at least what was this odd thing all about. I once tried to get information from the hospital, but got no response. My parents & all relatives from that time have passed on now, so there appears to be no one else to ask. This is likely just to be one of those mystery threads. By the way, I'm not one who visits psychics usually. This was an "out of the blue" moment, seemingly out of nowhere.

2 comments:

  1. It's amazing! And very strange and exciting! But why don't you visit that hospital ...perhaps they have archive where they keep files and history? Or may be it is forbidden to give such information to a child that was born there.

    ReplyDelete
  2. That particular hospital is no longer there. That area is 3,000 miles away. Maybe someday I will go there again.

    ReplyDelete