Death's Curve Ball

Cliff never believed in angels. You die, you're dead, that's it. I liked him. He was a gentle giant to me in his 6 foot 6 frame who cried at my daughter's wedding, saying he had never felt so much love from a family before. There were stories inside his head that I wanted to know more about. Like when he was a musician in Chicago who got thrown out of a bar for singing Jesus loves me on the table top. Or the times he must have had when he tended bar at the lake. He and I met after his wild days were over and he was my son-in-law's dad, owner of his own business. We shared birthday cakes and two beautiful grandchildren. Then one day, cancer took hold of Cliff's body. At first, it seemed like a terrible injustice and it was, but there was also a miracle being woven into our lives through his cancer.
First came the dream. Two "beings" and I lifted him with a green sheet to The Hospital of Lights. Words cannot describe the beauty of the place with its golden glow. He was laid horizontally while many lights scanned his body in sections. Peace filled everything it touched and I wanted to be on the table too but was told, no. After the dream, I began visualizing healing light and praying for him consistently. He was stuck in between worlds, ours, Heaven's and the drug induced world but we still paid close attention to his words. He laughed when I told him I was never good at playing charades and then his gaze would shift and he spoke of the beautiful women who were in the room. Angels? Of course! he'd say. My daughter would have dreams about the two of them speaking only to be surprised the next morning when she found out he had screamed out her name twice in his sleep. This strengthened everyone's faith. The Hospice worker said in fifteen years, she has been with Catholics, Jews, Muslims, atheists, among others and all of them talk of angels. Cliff mentioned how he felt love returned for the first time in his life which has always been my idea of why we're here, to grow through love. It was starting to make sense that when life marries with death, a miracle occurs for those who have hearts to see.
Sadly, we lost Cliff on Saturday at 3:44 in the morning. Something kept whispering as I slept, trying to give a confused message so I glanced at the clock. 4:11 a.m. Somewhere I have a feeling there's a very large man teasing angels that he was just kidding about not believing in them. Somewhere too, there is a Hospital of Lights healing all cancers of the spirit.

Staycation Anniversary

"There is no "try", only DO!"
Yoda

This month marks the one year anniversary of the Conscious Living show on www.talkshoe.com with Wendy. Yesterday, someone called to ask why I haven't posted lately so I apologized and promised to get busy. Truth be told, my mind went on vacation. I need to pause and reflect on the magnitude of knowledge that has passed my ears. Buddhism teaches that we must learn something new everyday that will alter our perspective. With awareness comes validation that we had it all along. It's

easy to get lost in a world full of negativity and resentment, but when we start to focus on the beauty of a sunset or droplets of water, our brains begin to change. Blood pressure is lowered and the heart pulses with blood that begins to purify our bodies. We feel connected once again, alive with inner passion and a beauty that says, "I Am."

Two Row Sunday

There is a little white church in front of the house where my friend Debbie lives. It's located in a remote area of Kansas off a dirt road with a cemetery in the back. Some of the graves are as old as the hundred year old church that's been newly painted. It took Debbie a year or so to cave and attend the church and I tease that it's a five minute walk. Sometimes there are only a handful of people and other Sundays as many as twenty five attend. Last Sunday, the minister asked what the people were thankful for and a small boy answered, "we have a two row Sunday!" So simple were his words, packed with hope and gratitude.
Everywhere you look, you will find "two row Sunday's". Last night it was in Aaron's apartment. He had made his famous jambalaya stew, invited his siblings and cleaned up the place. There were chocolate bars for desert and cartoons on the big screen television for the younger crowd. I saw it today on the snowy hill. Two fellas padded up to their necks in layers of warm clothes, throwing snowballs at each other and belly laughing like a great father and son team. The article in today's paper talked about Terry Durham, an eleven year old ordained minister who preaches at True Gospel Deliverance Ministry for a 20 seat nondenominational storefront church that was founded by his grandmother.
"God put his spirit upon me," says Terry, "but he didn't say how old you had to be or anything like that."
We have so many talents and so many different ways to share love to others. The wave of change is here. We are the podcasters, photographers and bloggers, the hostesses to many and the hostesses to few. We answer phone calls and minister by our simple presence, we are the caregivers and the comedians. Soon it'll be a "million row Sunday"!

"..lead a life worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, making every effort to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace" (Eph.4:1-3)