Do you ever feel like
you are the last to know?
That’s how I feel today. If you’ve read the “About Me” section of this website, you know a little bit about my story, and anyone who has read anything that I’ve written could probably easily tell that my writing is usually from a place of heart ache, searching, confusion, or any other “out of order place”, but the desire has always been to write from a place of peace.
With this desire, came shame because I knew I wasn’t totally there. There were the spots inside that I could feel that weren't quite tended to, weren’t quite released, weren’t quite resolved. Today isn’t different in that regard. I know there are knots in my throat that need to be cried through and released. There is a seemingly never-ending physical pain in my heart. It’s a poignant flow of spiritual pain that manifests itself in my physical body, and I’ve stopped at nothing to try to shore up that spilling liquid.
Therapists, gurus, music, poetry, writing, healing stones, healing baths, massage therapy, sharing with friends, church, prayer, sex, relationships, friendships, meditation, and whatever else that I’m not thinking of at the moment. All of these things have in some way moved me in directions, taught me something, showed me something, given me something to bounce myself off of and see what’s there. Many of these things have indeed helped me heal in many ways. Still, there are sometimes hours of tears, and I always think that, maybe this time, that pain in my heart will go away if I honor the tears and the message in them.
Something happened a few days ago...
It was the anniversary of when I mis-carried, but more importantly, the anniversary of a greater spiritual awakening. And if you’ve followed my journey at all, the pull toward that awakening began when my first child was born. Along the way, there have been certain marked moments of awakening. A while back, they used to call them “Aha” moments. Whenever these moments happen in my life, I feel like that moment when Helen Keller finally understands what her teacher has been teaching her. Like I’m blind, deaf and mute, and suddenly, something clicks, and I’m able to communicate and understand so much more.
Then, there is this idea that I can relax. I talk beautifully about the light and the dark, and about energies and dimensions and angels and God. It’s pretty great when you are even 2 steps cleared from the heavy darkness that you lived in for years. And when you get 2 steps from it, you want to be even farther from it. Towards the light, I would say.
Go towards the light, everyone says. Somehow, we talk as though it’s all figured out. It’s not. At least for me, it hasn’t been all figured out. If it were, there wouldn’t still be this place in my mind that doesn’t make sense, or the tension in my voice that is telling me something, or a pain in my back that isn’t that bad, but it’s still there. Or that thing in my heart. What is that?
People have told me that we can’t ever know everything. Speaking in the spiritual sense. They watch me immerse myself in books about how the angels work and listen to me endlessly talk about signs and numbers and how to know if it’s really God talking to us or if it’s lies or what is really happening in the 5th dimension, if anything. I have to understand the universe and how that sits in space in relation to God, and if heaven is in one of 10ish dimensions that we know about or somewhere else or on earth or within us. I talk about the universe and the multi-verse and spiritual warfare and those fucking demons that have waged war on my soul. I talk about unconditional love. People hear me talk about different spirits and the Holy Spirit. About prayer and meditation. About mysteries and miracles, and signs and numbers and plant and animal medicine.
I pursue and read and study until I have another “aha” moment. Why? I don’t have a choice. Some people have to run. Some people have to cook, some people have to travel, some people have to make music. Some people have to dance. I have to do a lot of those things also, but I really have to seek. It started when I was 3 years old. It’s who I am.
A few days ago, again, I realized that there is more healing to do. Sometimes I get really sick of it. Like, there will be a couple of amazing weeks of being productive and doing what I want to do, but then, something comes up, and I have to respect it. A night full of tears come. Messages come, and ancient heartache is released. This time, it had to with this idea that God is a father to us. That’s never made sense to me, but I’ve been taught that my whole life. To sum up the scene the other night, there was a lot of crying nonsense, until I understood one reason why I've never understood God as my father concept. It has to do with heartache about my relationship with my dad.
This is nothing new. I’ve known about that brokenness for years, and although my dad is a wonderful person, and I know he loves me, when I was growing up, he scared me, and in many ways, he missed the mark with me. I’ve known this for years, but there was something different this time. So, I told God all about that because for me, prayer is a relief, and I think the final portion of that heartache has been released.
The next morning, for some reason, I got this idea to start a Jesus Journal #2. The first Jesus Journal was a special journal that I bought about 8 years ago, to express myself in and give God one last chance to tell me if IT exists and if IT cares about my needs AT ALL! It was a sarcastic spit in God’s face journal, and on the first day that I wrote in the journal, God showed me through a nice couch at a dumpster that indeed, God exists. This couch became my bed when I had no bed.
I do function from the promise that if we seek, we will find. Since that first Jesus Journal entry, and the couch showing up, I’ve had a faith in God, that has since been impossible to let go of. Since then, I’ve been eyes wide open solidifying my own personal journey with God. Seeking. Hoping to really find...more.
And here we are, Day 3 of the 2nd Jesus Journal, 8ish years later. This one is different. This time, I’m not as fired up as I was when I started the first one all those years ago. Many of my needs have been met, many of my wounds have been healed. I think most of the demons are gone. I know about intercessory prayer and have experienced beautiful friends who have loved me well.
The purpose of this 2nd Jesus Journal was in recognition that I’m ready for the next level of faith, to learn more, and to of course, again, express my needs to God.
My first entry? A lot about how after all of the effort that I’ve put in my life over the last many years, after all of the seeking...I feel like maybe I was wrong on everything, and this isn't where I thought I would be by now. I told God that I need a new batch of faith stories. Thoughts about my real estate career. Needs there. Thoughts about the last couple years since the mis-carriage. Thoughts about love. Asking the question again about whether Twin Flames are real, and if they are, why? If they are, show me more, and if they aren't, take the heartache and the belief away. Many stream of consciousness thoughts in my second Jesus Journal.
“God, just be with me tonight. Make me aware of your presence. Not the angels. Just you.”
I opened my Bible to read Isaiah 6:1...”I saw the Lord sitting upon a throne, high and lifted up, and the train of his robe filled the temple. Above him stood the seraphim. Each had six wings: with two he covered his face, and with two he covered his feet, and with two he flew.”
Isaiah 7:9: “If you are not firm in faith, you will not be firm at all.”
I realized that God is a real being, not just energy, not just light. Not just something that people talk about. And then, I looked up every part of the Bible that talks about when God showed humans a glimpse of who he is, or when God visited the earth. God is a real thing, and until now, I've not personally met God. I thought I had, but I hadn't.
All of those years that I didn’t believe in God or tried to see if God exists, or pursued knowledge of the universe and to spiral up and heal and cleanse, and even my pursuit of learning about Jesus, seems like they were leading to this moment. Instead of being angry at God for all of the heartache and all that I’ve ever complained about... instead of going into conversation about anything, I felt fear.
There is no way for me to explain this fear. I’m not that good of a writer. In some way, it’s associated with a sound in my body, or maybe it’s a sound in my soul, and it’s similar to what it feels like when you meet someone for the first time. You've seen glimpses of that person around. People have talked about that person, you've heard things. You look at pictures that people have taken of them. You feel them everywhere. And then you meet.
Mysterious and only showing you a moment of themselves, but they are there, and you are compelled. Simultaneously you are excited and nervous, and you want to tell people that you’ve met someone, and you immediately recognize that this is an incredibly important meeting. It's going to take time to know more. It'll probably re-arrange your whole life, but you aren't sure how yet. It's really frightening because there is so much that is unknown. There's also anticipation and a little grin on your face. You wonder when you'll meet again. You hope it's soon. Really, you don't ever want to leave.
"The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge." Wow. There it is. One of the great mysteries.
Am I the last to know? I hope not. I would feel really dumb. Instead, however, it's settled in more... my Helen Keller moment here is that there is definitely more clarity on the value of keeping a journal and what I do here. I can look back on everything in my life to see that this is definitely a portion of my purpose on this earth. I don’t care who you are, or what you believe about anything. I care precisely about creating space for people and providing a tool for people that assists them in clearing their internal space, their soul, so that they can meet God.