Today Danielle forwarded us the story of a little boy who sang to his sister while she was still being 'formed in secret'. She had difficulty at birth and a couple weeks later his mother became forceful (ah, the mother bear!) and brought him into the ICU where he had been begging to come to sing to his little sister. As he began to sing, she was healed, moment by moment.
I suspect this mystical miracle was about even more than the healing itself in those moments; it was about the connectedness that had been created before she even had official 'consciousness.'
There is a lot, I'm sure, to be said on that subject, but what I felt compelled to write about is something a little different. I had sent this to someone I knew and recently reconnected with from high school. He wrote to thank me for sending it, calling it 'wonderful' and I wrote back saying, "May someone in your life sing you songs of love."
As I wrote that, I was reminded of something that happened several years ago when I first began to write my personal psalms (based on the outline of the 23rd Psalm). I had been trying very hard to concentrate and talk to 'God'. Truth was, at that time anyway, I felt very far from 'God' and in my mind's eye I was picturing a castle (of sorts) at a very great distance, a large abyss between myself and that place and 'God' being there while I stood so very far away and not even worthy of being near 'God' anyway. I had the feeling I would have to crawl the distance, in fact, if I did find a way to propel myself toward 'God' at all.
At that very moment I pictured 'God' (as a man) standing right in front of me! In a moment He had spanned the distance I had feared I'd have to crawl!
But the very best thing that happened was that I found myself singing a song I had sung to my children (and now my grandchildren). "I love you so much. I love you so much. I can't even tell you how much I love you. You're special to me. So special to me. I can't even tell you how much I love you..." (It goes on) Anyway, then the most magnificent thing happened in my imagining. 'God' was holding me in the air (as I had done with my children) and was singing this song to me! Tears started running down my face. I couldn't believe it. 'God' was singing right into my heart, singing to me as a child, just as I sang to my children.
I tell you this because...because. Because I think I needed to remember it. I needed to be reminded I am that loved. That Some One held me above their head and sang into my heart, telling me how much I was loved. And if 'God' is no respecter of persons, then what has been done for me, to me, is also true for you.
May you know the blessing of truly knowing you are loved--not only by family and friends, but by the One who is The All In All.
Below you will find the Prodigal's Psalm that came out of this experience. A rabbi once told me the symbolism in it was that of one of the Holy Days AND that there is actually a designation for 'God' that is about Unrelenting Love. (Too cool!) Apparently the mythology of the prodigal isn't assigned only to Christianity. It is universal. "Duh, Teresa." BTW 'YHVH' is translated as The LORD in most Bibles, FYI.
The Prodigal’s Psalm
YHVH is the Lover of my soul. He seeks me, even when I don’t want to be found. He calls to me, and my heart is stirred. His loving arms of forgiveness are open, urging my return.
At the moment of my repentance He stands beside me. He has spanned the distance I had feared I would have to crawl.
Yes, though I was blind and could not see the danger I was in, Your eye was ever upon me, and now I am safe in Your embrace. The cloak of Your righteousness is spread across my shoulders. It is as iron against my enemy.
You have prepared a work for me. You show me the tools and how to use them. You have given me all I need that I might be an honor unto You. My life overflows with Your goodness.
Surely You have proven Your mercy will follow me all the days of my life, calling me ever to Your loving side; and I shall live and work in the shadow (b’tzelim) of the Almighty forever, knowing full well You will never allow me to wander too far from the cover of Your Unrelenting Love. ©
Teresa possibly written 1/97