New day pulses clean.
Freshly washed earth wafts lover
scented musk skyward.
The breeze tiptoes on wind currents
loathe to disturb her slumber.
Misty breath of fog strokes her cheek
and gently kisses sleeping lips.
When did she turn inward taking her smile
When did dance leave her feet still?
When did hope slip away like her shadow
on an overcast day?
Then the piano begins.
Tentative notes almost silent yet, somehow,
tickling ears awake, calling her outward.
Eyes flutter open.
She dares not move lest the music stop,
breath held as heartbeats quicken.
Note by note first her soul unfolds
and soon her feet touch the ground.
The gentle curve of a sad smile appears
as remembered hours of ballet drills
swirl through her mind with the piano notes.
Arising with sweet grace her arms glide upward,
swan wings in flight.
Gentle pirouettes and swirls entwine ’round
each note; the swish of light steps
on satiny wood floors;
swan wings e’er in flight.
Then the piano ends.
Swan wings glide downward,
hands resting gently at the end
of still arms.
Lying down with sweet grace
legs are lifted to rest still feet.
Eyes flutter closed as her sad smile
lifts upward in joy remembering ballets
long gone yet knowing present day hope
in a new dance, in a new song.
Then the piano begins …
Up from the mud of the soul’s dark night,
Compelled by truth and dawn’s bright light,
Stirred by audacious joy bursting forth,
In the space of mere moments, the choice is made.
Forward motion of the warrior’s brazen path,
unhindered by fierce winds or adversity,
Gentleness my greatest strength,
mightier than any sword,
my grace forges pathways
where others have cringed.
I am awake.
I arise freely.
I stand tall.
The Warrior journeys on …
Several years ago, I awakened from a dream and “heard” (in that quiet sense of knowing inwardly): “Sarah wake up; Deborah, arise; Esther, stand.” These are three powerful, spiritual women whose stories I am very familiar with and whom I’ve admired a very long time. It was a powerful spiritual experience which impacts me to this day.
At the time, I was experiencing a severe relational turmoil and beginning to feel hopeless that it would resolve, and, emotionally feeling like God had abandoned me. My head knew that was not true but my heart was having a very difficult time believing God was with me. The dream and the message I received upon awakening carried me through many months of a most devastating experience.
I was thinking of it just now, remembering the beautiful places and painful places of growth, healing and transformation which have shaped my life. “The Warrior Journeys On” unfolded in a few minutes this evening.
Quiet green rivers inside.
I prayed for peace and got picturesque.
I prayed for joy and a fountain of tears fell.
My faith must be lacking although my
heart is over full.
I’m a bundle of feelings and darkness and light.
Holding the baby boy in the store I felt God pressing into me.
I saw what I usually only see in meditation:
rivers and stars, trees and valleys.
His eyes were full of the universe’s mysteries
and love from the heart of God.
His hands held the nations and
his feet kicked with authority.
Destiny. I saw his destiny.
A warrior man wrapped in an infant’s body
being trained to rule.
God, why do you show me such things? My heart is fried today
yet still I see. Always, you let me see.
The old man at the store. Another Nathan. A prophetic father.
Broken and arthritic yet smiling like a groom on his wedding day.
Joy oozing from his pores and pain coursing through his body.
And his eyes. Eyes that know. Eyes that see.
When he took my hand I thought my heart would break again.
The pain of decades. I felt his sorrow and losses … and then his joys and triumphs.
Then he said what Dad always said: “Tell me what you see.”
Inwardly I panicked. Was it a trick?
Was he a kindly seeking watcher sent after me?
Or was he God’s messenger when I’m pushing through dark rubble?
Again, “tell me what you see”, gently insistent.
It felt like he was reminding me I’m a seer.
Pulling me back to earth and out of my soul’s crashing.
So I looked in his eyes and saw and told him what I saw.
“Decades of life. A happy marriage. A blue-eyed wife.
Dancing together everywhere: under the stars in the middle of a barnyard.
Dancing in a tiny kitchen.
Dancing in the street in the rain.
3 sons, 2 daughters.
A church. Small church. 57 members.
Green grass. Cemetery behind the church.
Singing. You love to sing! In Latin and Greek, in German in French!
I see a young soldier on a coastline and dead bodies all around him.
I see cows and chickens, horses and goats.
I see a factory and darkness. Sadness. Sickness.
I see a gravestone: ‘Marcie, beloved wife’.
I see a beach and you sitting there on a chair in the sand, reading, singing, weeping and singing some more.
I see you. You know how to love well and how to be loved.”
He kissed my cheek and said “you know how to love well, too. Crying will pass. Joy will return.”
And then he was gone.