Читать книгу LoveDance: Awakening the Divine Daughter - Deborah Maragopoulos FNP - Страница 18

I am losing her, not to him, but to despair. Fear and death surround me. My precious wife lies gravely ill, but I cannot find that still place from which to minister to her. When I place my hands upon her fevered brow, she becomes even weaker, her fever rising, her breathing labored. Rucha no longer resides within my being, sacred breath evaporating through my lips before I can place my mouth to hers.

Since she has been sick, the dark sky is swollen with clouds, the air bitterly cold. The birds no longer sing in her garden haven, even the trees weep in the barren groves. I am lost in my despair. If I must give her up to save her life, I will. I do! I surrender my beloved wife to the Divine. My life for hers. I leave her in Teoma’s faithful hands to live happily upon this earth. May they remember me in their joy, not in their sorrow.

In a feverish delirium, I am tended by Miriam but Sarah is gone. A soft shadow hovers over my left side, never changing in spite of the rising sun. Vaguely, I am aware of snippets of conversation between Yeshua and his parents.

Joseph’s voice is strained, “How can you have allowed this to happen? Look how she has wasted away. Why did you not allow me to bring in a wet nurse? Why have you not discussed this with your Ima and me?”

Yeshua says nothing, but I can feel his pain, anger muted by guilt, fear darkening his hayye. Joseph’s voice rises, “Poorly prepared to take care of a wife. Keeping Teoma with you knowing how they felt about each other only aggravated the situation. But at least while he was here, she ate!” He storms out and I am awash with waves of sorrow for Yeshua. I wish I could comfort him, but I am having trouble staying awake.

Another conversation ensues, this time as Miriam sponges my fevered flesh with water drawn from an icy cold stream. I begin shivering uncontrollably. “Son, hand me some clean linens. There, Mary, rest now.” She lays me back down, but I cannot focus on her face. Yeshua covers me, his hayye a bit softer now.

“Ima, I do not know how it came to this. I feel like I am living another person’s life.” His voice hoarse, has he been crying?

“You are living a very human life, Yeshua. Thanks to Mary and Teoma, you are going through a dark time of the soul. You will survive this, but it won’t be the last.” Yeshua shudders, or is it the chattering of my teeth? “What happened the night before Teoma left?” I thought she knew.

“I found her lying with him. I had already asked him to leave after coming across them in an intimate embrace by the fountain earlier.” So matter of fact, almost without emotion.

“And what did Mary have to say for herself?” Miriam asks softly, somehow I feel she knows the truth, but maybe I am just being hopeful.

“After she hugged him, she said we were at the beginning of a very dark journey.”

“Wise for one so young. It has been very dark indeed.” I am not wise, only quoting Gavriel. “And did Teoma explain?”

“He said they talked but that he did not touch her.”

“And you did not believe him?” Yeshua must have shaken his head. “Has he ever been dishonest with you?” Again, no. “Then why did you not confirm his story by hearing Mary’s side?”

“She never offered an explanation.” He sounds close to tears, “Ima we are not living as man and wife anymore. There is little love between us now.”

“Yeshua, it is love that held her tongue.” She pauses, I imagine, to reach out to him, “Now twice since you have been married, you have withdrawn yourself emotionally from her. Both times have ended in her becoming extremely ill. You have had to nearly lose her before you have surrendered to your higher Self.”

“Do all dark times of the soul have to last so long,” he cries, “and be so painful?”

“No, they will continue to be demanding but in a different way. You must surrender sooner and remember that you are not alone.” Again a pause, “You believe your mission is to serve the world but in order to help others, you must first serve yourself.”

I do not remember any more but his soft crying, probably muffled on her bosom.