(My memoir is currently titled ‘From Darkness to Daisies”. I finished the first draft, summer of 2020 and now it’s sitting in my desk drawer. I took seven Easter moments,  seven of the ‘trumpet-sounding’ experiences in my life, described them and a reflection on what I’ve learned about God from them. I’m sharing snippets of those experiences with you over the Easter season for the next five weeks. Here goes with the warning that they are written, as is my blog, from a ‘telling’ perspective, not a narrative one. That’s one reason my memoir is still in my drawer! ,,,, and as you read these, I’ll be away from my computer. I’ll check your responses when I return late May.)

Despite a privileged upbringing, my childhood was embedded with fear, sadness and loneliness. By the time I reached university I knew a deep darkness that felt like a cancer eating away at me. As a child I was graced with several spiritual experiences which gave me another perspective, giving me hope and the awareness that God doesn’t run from our darkness.  

One night when I was about eight, I woke to see a figure at the end of my bed. I saw a man, kneeling in prayer. The image was small, just a few feet high and it was glowing. Scared, I hid under the covers. I peeked out a few moments later for I wanted to see more, but he was gone. What was left was my memory of someone, from somewhere praying for me. I was raised in our local Anglican church and so I thought it must be Jesus. I continued to feel scared and alone in my daily life, but I began to learn there was more to life. Somewhere, someone was praying for me.

When I was thirteen, I cried myself to sleep one night, devasted as only a thirteen year old can be, by school life drama. I wanted to disappear and not face life any longer. On waking the next morning, I felt completely different. I was at peace with a deep internal contentment. I walked into the school yard comfortable and quietly confident. I said, ‘Hi’ to the other children, and they greeted me. All was well. I knew that my prayer of the night before had been heard and that ‘someone, somewhere’ had changed me on the inside. I understood that God had heard my angst. In response to my plea, I had been changed and so had the world around me. I knew something had happened and that God was involved.

I had a similar event when I was fifteen and on a trip with some friends to Montreal. Devastation, tears at night, followed by sleep and upon waking, a deep peace, seeing myself and world around me with fresh eyes. That time I shared with my friends what had happened. We laughingly called it my ‘revelation’, but I knew there was nothing superficial about it. Once again I had a glimpse of the power behind the scenes. There was someone watching over me. Someone who cared about me.

As a child I began to learn from my own experience that God is present with us all the time. Sometimes the Beloved moves in this world in healing ways, but always we are loved and prayed for. What is your sense of God’s presence today? Can you imagine for a moment, someone praying for you?

Love and prayers

Anne

Mystic in Motion

Companion on the Way with Contemplative Fire

Companion on the Rivendell Way

Society Member of Shalem Institute for Contemplative Living