Читать книгу LoveDance: Awakening the Divine Daughter - Deborah Maragopoulos FNP - Страница 19

Day and night, I fast and pray always at her bedside. I have not seen our daughter since her mother fell ill. Within my being, a storm brews the fog of incomprehension beginning to lift. Somehow suffering has opened my heart to a deeper level of compassion. Thanks to Mary, I have known all the faces of fear—anger, frustration, rage, sorrow, guilt, jealousy, and unworthiness. I am truly willing now to surrender my beloved to divine orchestration. If I am blessed to see her smiling face, her pallor colored back to the beautiful bronze of her vitality, to see her stormy eyes clear to brilliant green, I shall know that I have not been forsaken. I will welcome my brother home with open arms and not allow my fear to come between us again. To remain connected to Eloha throughout this darkness is the greatest miracle of all.

The late morning sun streams through our open door to kiss my cheek. For the first time in days, I awake clear-headed but struggle to take a deep breath. My breasts have been bound. Where is Sarah? I attempt to rise but am too weak.

The Archangel Gavriel returns, as always a comfort. Why was I forsaken all through this dark time? You were never alone but accompanied by the Archangel Uriel, the morning star. I vaguely remember a presence like a shadow, always at my left side. Aware that most fear this dark deliverer, I thank him. Gavriel laughs, you have earth angels here in the house. Of course!

Silently, I call and soon Yeshua’s siblings arrive. A sack over his shoulder, ten-year-old Shimon places it carefully on the bed and out crawls my baby. Sarah tries to stand but not finding proper footing rushes to me in a fast crawl. Tearful that I missed my baby’s first steps, I gather her into my arms. She reaches for my breasts, finding them bound begins to wail.

“Shimon, can you cut these knots.”

He complies and Ruth helps unbind me. “Poor Mary, your breasts are squished. Will there be any milk for Sarah?”

“Let’s pray there is, sweet child,” sighing as Sarah happily relieves the pressure. Eight-year-old Judah watches the door, the girls gathering closer. “How did you accomplish this?”

“Well,” Shimon begins, “this morning when Sarah began screaming for you, the nurse got a terrible headache, so I made tea.” He smiles mischievously. “An angel showed me in a dream which of Abba’s herbs to use and soon she was snoring.” He motions for Judah to join us and my young guardian reluctantly leaves his post. All together, playing games like before the dark time began; I have finally awakened from a very bad dream.

Shortly, Yeshua appears. “What’s this?” Sarah hears his voice and pulls away from me.

Brandishing a wooden sword, Judah bravely answers, “We are Mary’s earth angels, so you better beware.”

Yeshua puts up his hands, “I surrender to your demands. May I visit with my wife now?” Recognizing their brother of old, the little girls jump upon him. After a few moments, the children kiss us goodbye and dance out of the room. We are alone.

Offering silent gratitude at the sight of his silvery aura clear of fear, I open my arms. Yeshua hugs me to him, our tears merging to dampen Sarah’s sweet head. The dark time finally over, all is forgiven.

After kissing my lips with loving compassion, Yeshua whispers, “Mary, can you use your connection and call Teoma back home?”

Gladly, I do his bidding.