Here are the messengers....
Happy Sunday beautiful hearts...
Today I had to share a bit of my heart...the synchronicity of life leaves me feeling full of possibility. Isn't life amazing? My face has been in a permanent smile today. The way that Spirit choreographs our days truly astounds me. I am humbled with gratitude, and bursting with love. This snowy day has led to a retreat in my home, and a clearing out in preparation for the birth of Spring.
Sitting amongst a pile of books, I re-discovered a Saint Day by Day Encyclopedia. I cracked it open, and as fate would have it to March 1. Yikes...so exciting! Today is the feast day of St. David, who is the patron saint of Wales. St. David was born in c.500 in Pembrokeshire, Wales. The most famous miracle associated with him dates back to 545 in which he was said to be addressing a crowd that could neither see nor hear him, so the ground upon which he was standing on was said to have spontaneously risen into the air so that he towered over the masses. A white dove, a symbol of Divine grace then settled on his shoulder.
So in the middle of reading about St. David and feeling the grace of this snowy day, I was reminded about a David that I once had the privilege of loving. This David was an extraordinary man. His spirit towered in a castle of warmth. His jokes were many and his kindness sprawled out like a rolling green hill. He traveled this world as a doctor, making house calls back in the early 30's and 40's. His compassion for man was evident as he lived to celebrate his 90th birthday. He married his true love back in 1987 and they shared a portion of life that most lovers could only dream of.
I think back to 2007, and am reminded of one of the most magical human experiences I have ever been privileged to share. I was traveling home from a Saturday graduate class and David's health had taken a turn. He was at a local care facility and as I voyaged home, I knew that I must stop to see him. His lovely wife Joan had been keeping vigil and as I arrived she began making her plans to travel home. I asked if I could sit with him and she bellowed a resounding yes. Tip toeing around his bed, I could hear him mumbling to someone, his voice audible at times, his eyes closed to this world. I found myself taking a seat and simply staring at him. I wondered who was there, I wondered how long he had waited to see them, and I wished that I could see them all as well. I closed my eyes hoping to adjust to the rhythm of heaven. Opening them I simply saw this beautiful man making his transition home. His dialogue increased and I felt this urgency to record it for his wife. I jumped up and rushed to my car to retrieve my laptop. I didn't want to intrude on his process, but his ramblings seemed rich with memories and days gone by. I frantically typed as he spoke, not really making sense of any of it, but hopeful that it would mean something to his Joan. My gaze slowly met his lips as he whispered, "It's all an illusion, its just an illusion." He kept repeating this phrase over and over again...chills running through my body, I could feel the truth of his words. All of the worries and struggles of this life seemed to melt away with these words. His vessel was being illuminated with love and light. I sat for a while longer just staring at him. His physical body shrinking in size, but his spirit growing in such an abundant way. I stopped typing so that I might soak in the essence of his process. Feeling raw and clumsy, I could feel tears of joy stinging my eyes. The moment that death begins an outward dance with someone is such a humbling time. I sat mesmerized watching life fade out of David. He was reaching and talking to everyone that filled the room. The last words that I heard him he utter in an audible quality were, "Here are the messengers that bring sweet peace."
On this feast day of Saint David, I am again reminded of my dear friend David. The magical Welsh man who healed others with his compassion and knowledge, the articulate renaissance man who played the songs of Wales on his harp, and the companion of death who shared such sweet messages of life.
May Divine grace and comfort rest in your life today and always!
May you Sweetly Seek,
In Much Gratitude:)
Sarah
Today I had to share a bit of my heart...the synchronicity of life leaves me feeling full of possibility. Isn't life amazing? My face has been in a permanent smile today. The way that Spirit choreographs our days truly astounds me. I am humbled with gratitude, and bursting with love. This snowy day has led to a retreat in my home, and a clearing out in preparation for the birth of Spring.
Sitting amongst a pile of books, I re-discovered a Saint Day by Day Encyclopedia. I cracked it open, and as fate would have it to March 1. Yikes...so exciting! Today is the feast day of St. David, who is the patron saint of Wales. St. David was born in c.500 in Pembrokeshire, Wales. The most famous miracle associated with him dates back to 545 in which he was said to be addressing a crowd that could neither see nor hear him, so the ground upon which he was standing on was said to have spontaneously risen into the air so that he towered over the masses. A white dove, a symbol of Divine grace then settled on his shoulder.
So in the middle of reading about St. David and feeling the grace of this snowy day, I was reminded about a David that I once had the privilege of loving. This David was an extraordinary man. His spirit towered in a castle of warmth. His jokes were many and his kindness sprawled out like a rolling green hill. He traveled this world as a doctor, making house calls back in the early 30's and 40's. His compassion for man was evident as he lived to celebrate his 90th birthday. He married his true love back in 1987 and they shared a portion of life that most lovers could only dream of.
I think back to 2007, and am reminded of one of the most magical human experiences I have ever been privileged to share. I was traveling home from a Saturday graduate class and David's health had taken a turn. He was at a local care facility and as I voyaged home, I knew that I must stop to see him. His lovely wife Joan had been keeping vigil and as I arrived she began making her plans to travel home. I asked if I could sit with him and she bellowed a resounding yes. Tip toeing around his bed, I could hear him mumbling to someone, his voice audible at times, his eyes closed to this world. I found myself taking a seat and simply staring at him. I wondered who was there, I wondered how long he had waited to see them, and I wished that I could see them all as well. I closed my eyes hoping to adjust to the rhythm of heaven. Opening them I simply saw this beautiful man making his transition home. His dialogue increased and I felt this urgency to record it for his wife. I jumped up and rushed to my car to retrieve my laptop. I didn't want to intrude on his process, but his ramblings seemed rich with memories and days gone by. I frantically typed as he spoke, not really making sense of any of it, but hopeful that it would mean something to his Joan. My gaze slowly met his lips as he whispered, "It's all an illusion, its just an illusion." He kept repeating this phrase over and over again...chills running through my body, I could feel the truth of his words. All of the worries and struggles of this life seemed to melt away with these words. His vessel was being illuminated with love and light. I sat for a while longer just staring at him. His physical body shrinking in size, but his spirit growing in such an abundant way. I stopped typing so that I might soak in the essence of his process. Feeling raw and clumsy, I could feel tears of joy stinging my eyes. The moment that death begins an outward dance with someone is such a humbling time. I sat mesmerized watching life fade out of David. He was reaching and talking to everyone that filled the room. The last words that I heard him he utter in an audible quality were, "Here are the messengers that bring sweet peace."
On this feast day of Saint David, I am again reminded of my dear friend David. The magical Welsh man who healed others with his compassion and knowledge, the articulate renaissance man who played the songs of Wales on his harp, and the companion of death who shared such sweet messages of life.
May Divine grace and comfort rest in your life today and always!
May you Sweetly Seek,
In Much Gratitude:)
Sarah
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