Tuesday, June 8, 2010


I had a dream last night that I walked where Jesus walked on Calvary. He was already ascended to be at the right hand of the Father but I was with his earthly mother as she showed me the path. Mary talked quietly as we walked along the dusty road. She showed me where Joseph had taken a knife in sheer hurt and pain and anger and struck down every sapling along the path after their son had been murdered. I walked around jagged stumps along the way, careful not to step or slip and fall on one. Then we came to the front of her house, it was dirt. We sat down and she pulled out a quilt that she had made for Jesus that was not finished. Each little patch represented something of Jesus's life. She laid it out flat and rubbed her hands over it the worn patterns and tears began to fall like rain. The hurt that magnified in her, all that she lost when her son was killed welled up in me until I like her was sobbing on the baby quilt. She told me that he was the perfect child, he never did any wrong, he was innocent. As I ran my own hands across the quilt with tears so bitter it hurt physically. At first I could only feel her pain so raw for having lost her perfect child a mothers loss. Then the pain moved into what Jesus did for me and how he gave his life for me, his human life. He left his mom and dad on earth to face a painful death. He left all that was good on this earth to die and for his mortal body to be lifted up. I was full of tears, mixed with sorrow and grief but joy and thanksgiving. Then Mary handed me a piece of the quilt. A pink square, it wasn't anything fancy or special it had a little animal stitched on it as any average baby quilt would. It was worn out. I thought people just wouldn't believe the antiquity of this if I could somehow take it with me into the future. Something interrupted my thoughts and I heard "She is a part of him" (Serentity) They were connected. Then the dream was over.

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