The Calling

March 5, 2022

God brought me on a meditation many years ago. He does that sometimes. I closed my eyes and I saw myself. I watched myself from above. I was not myself as I am today. I was a little girl, innocent and pure. I was walking in a secluded field surrounded by tall pine trees filled with the beauty of nature. Even though the sun was shining intensely, the sky was still a bright blue. The colors of everything around me were so vibrant. The harshness of the bright sun washed away nothing. I was so happy.

I met up with other children in the field. We all seemed about the same age. They approached me from different directions. A honey haired girl came from the left. Then a blond haired boy approached from the right. Two other children came walking together from the center of the field, a honey haired boy and a dark haired girl. Like the field, none of us were tainted by the harshness of suffering in this world, not yet anyway. We were open, free and uninhibited. We were all so happy.

We joined hands in the middle of the field and began skipping around in circles like we were playing “Ring Around the Rosie”, but nobody was falling down, falling in, or falling out of the circle. We were solidly joined and content to be playing, laughing and smiling up at the sky and at each other. We all glowed with joy, just like the sun in the sky.

I saw birds of different colors flying overhead above us, like rainbows flying across the sky. I saw animals in the field all around us, going about their business, happy and content just like us. Even the blades of grass and the trees surrounding us were swaying in the breeze, seemingly dancing and filled with joy. It was like heaven on earth for every living being in the field.

Then I and the other children stopped skipping in circles. All at once, we ran to the center of the circle and lifted our arms to the sky. A flock of white doves flew up and out of the center of our raised hands like magic. They flew all around us and weaved their flight in and out of the spaces between us, like angels in flight. Heaven had joined us.

Then we broke from the circle. No words were expressed, but each of us started walking in different directions, filled with a sense of joy and curiosity. Each of us was on a search for something in the field. I instinctively knew when I found what I was supposed to be looking for. It was a pure, white feather. None of its hairs were stuck together. It was perfection. I was so happy I had found it, and yet it felt like I had been drawn to it like a magnet, sitting in plain sight at the border of the field, waiting just for me. I walked back to the center of the field to see what the others had found.

The blond boy who had been on my right was already standing in the center of the field. He looked so proud to have been there first. He had something cupped in his hands but I could not see what it was. He was waiting for the others to return to the circle. I looked into his eyes and they shined with glee and excitement for what he’d found and held protectively in his hands.

The honey haired girl then joined us. She had a leaf in her hand, but it was no ordinary leaf. It was a magnificent maroon colored leaf, laced with bright orange and flecked with gems that shined light like stars, even in the broad daylight. She was overjoyed with her magical leaf that seemed to reflect what was inside of her waiting to shine to the world. I felt a sting of jealousy that her object was so magical compared to my plain white feather, but I quickly pushed the feeling aside and expressed a genuine congratulatory loving smile her way.

Then the honey haired boy came slowly sauntering to the circle. He was holding a simple, gray rock. I pondered to myself why he would have such a boring object, but he seemed quite content with his rock. Then a realization came upon me that the rock seemed a lot like him, solid and steady, unmoved just like a rock. Still, I felt a stirring of pain as if he should have something more significant. Nonetheless, I was happy for him that he was content with who he was.

I then looked at the blond haired boy. He seemed like he could not contain his object anymore, but the dark haired girl had not yet come back to the circle. I looked up across the field and couldn’t see her anywhere. When the two honey haired children weren’t looking, the boy let me peek into his hand. My breath escaped me by what I saw. It was a beautiful baby bird, stark royal blue with white angelic feathers. I looked at him with great joy for what I saw inside his hands. He looked so proud and happy and I was so happy for him. I wasn’t sure if he let me see it because he wanted to let me in on his secret, or if it was an attempt to give the bird a moment of space to see out, as if trying to keep it comfortable and content for a little bit longer.

Then I glanced up across the field. The dark haired girl was coming towards us cradling something in her arms. It was a fluffy white-haired bunny with black splotches. It looked so content in her arms and she seemed so happy to be lovingly caressing that bunny. I sensed the girl and her beloved bunny had quite a lot in common in their journey of life, so soft and vulnerable, a nervous twitching, and an instinctive nature to hop from here to there in self-preservation. Yet here, in this moment, the two of them displayed perfect peace and ease being together, filled with love for each other. Again, I felt a pang of jealousy inside of me. Both the blond boy and the dark haired girl had found living objects and mine was just a left behind fragment of something living. Yet I was sincerely happy for her as well.

Now that we were all joined again, we turned our attention to the blond haired boy. He was struggling trying to contain the item in his hand. I looked into his eyes expecting to see the excitement I’d seen earlier but it was replaced with fear. He did not want to open his hands. I knew in an instant what he was feeling. It had dawned on him that the moment he opened his hands, the baby bird would fly away and he would be left with nothing in his hands. I sensed it was so important to him to have that little bird, to have a precious object of his own. It pained me to watch his internal struggle.

The others began to get anxious. They started to encroach and crowd in around him, excitedly trying to coach him to open his hands. It made him more nervous and sweat began to break out on his brow. I saw anger come across his eyes. My breath became trapped as I watched him tighten his grip on the little baby bird. I could tell he felt a momentary instinct to kill that baby bird rather than let the others smother it by their seemingly demanding demeanors in his state of fright. I glanced in his eyes that were now welling up in tears. I saw deep pain calling out to me wondering what he should do. Everything in him did not want to hurt that baby bird, it was so priceless to him. I gave him a reassuring look of love and understanding, and I prayed to the universe for him to do the right thing.

In a sudden moment, he opened his hands and the beautiful little bird flew from his hands circling all around his head and then landed on his chest. The boy was so happy and relieved that tears of joy fell down his face. It wasn’t just tears that were falling from him. All his fears fell away as he watched the bird flying freely and safe from the others, even from himself. The fear that he would be left empty handed was no longer. The bird had become his friend, content to be with him.

Then we all sat down on the ground and put our objects in front of us in the circle. Everyone looked so happy with their items and to admire the others. Genuine joy was felt by all for each other, except for me. I still felt a pang in my heart for the honey haired boy with his simple rock. I sensed the others were hiding within them a feeling that their objects were better than his.

Then the boy picked up his rock and calmly and playfully tossed it back and forth between his hands as if it was a ball. He glanced at each of us as if waiting for attention reservedly, yet not wanting to be the center of attention. When he knew we were all looking, he opened the rock and showed us all the intricacies inside. There were crystal gems glistening bright light. Then he closed the rock into his hands and it became just a rock again. Then he opened it again and this time there were layers upon layers of colors like sediments in the soil. Once again, he cupped the rock in his hands hiding it from view and when he opened it the last time, there were puzzles upon puzzles hidden within the rock and only he had the answers on how to put it back together. The boy knew all along what was hidden in that rock. Yet he sat there humbly holding it content to have a simple rock. He was no fool.

Then I looked at my plain white feather again and I felt left out. The honey haired girl and boys had their magical items. The dark haired girl and blond boy had their living animals and I just had a plain, white lifeless feather. It looked so insignificant now and it had seemed so special when I found it. Deep within me I felt a searing ache of pain, but I kept it well hidden. Something inside me said not to show it, to just be happy for the others and I truly was.

Then God spoke to me from the sky and from within myself. No one seemed to hear him but me. He said to me “My child, the feather IS your object and couldn’t be more you. It’s the feather of a white dove and doves represent peace in my world. That is what you bring, this is Who You Are, and this is who you have always wanted to BE. Each little hair of that feather is precious and fragile just as you are to me. So take good care of that feather and treasure it as I treasure you.”

I wept because God knew me so well, yet I did not. I did not recognize the value of my object, nor the value of me, but God had revealed it all. It now meant the world to me that he chose that white feather for me and I wept even harder in gratitude for a God that is so knowing and good.

Days later in real life I would find myself walking through the field at the Snug Harbor school behind my home. Sitting on the edge of the field in plain sight was a white feather… just like the meditation… waiting for Me.

The White Feather from the field at Snug Harbor School, Quincy, Massachusetts (The “Q”)
Found 3 Days Following the Meditation
It was Magical!!!

Life

Writing My Way Home

November 29, 2021 Debra Worden

November 7, 2021

Today I Write Because…

I love God, sunsets, and the night sky. I desire the expression one feels when viewing such things to be spilled out onto paper… flowing like a river of tears… taking the reader deeper and deeper inside of themselves… to the place that hurts… the place no one touches… the place we don’t allow others… or even perhaps ourselves to touch… the place of a small space kept hidden… but feels safe enough to be felt when conveyed through the words, images and sounds of the creative artists God has gifted us with… over and over again… throughout Time and Space.

I really just want the whole world to have a good cry and get better again. It begins with me… writing this… feeling… crying… tears streaming with every word of expression… touching the space within me. This is what the space said to me…

I felt you.
It’s okay.
I’ve got you.
I’m sorry.
I love you.
I thank you.
I forgive you.
I love you.
I love you.
I love you.

Uncategorized

The Pumpkin Man, The Ghost Lady & The Hen House

November 16, 2021December 26, 2021 Debra Worden

November 16, 2021

My mother told me I was a very happy child until I turned 5 years old. She didn’t know what happened but she observed something in me changed. I was to learn what happened when I was in my late 30s undergoing intense EMDR therapy to recover from the traumatic event of childhood rape. All future trauma events including the rape, were re-touching this earlier place and engraining patterns of fear-based thinking I had adopted about myself. When I unraveled almost all darkness holding me hostage, I found it all led back to this ONE Moment in Time.

I lived in an apartment complex in Brockton arranged as lots of 4 buildings in square formations with a courtyard in the middle of each square where kids could play in a grassy area. A paved path encircled the grassland where you could walk and ride bikes. I learned to ride my first bike on that path at age 3. My mother’s rule was I allowed to play outside so long as I remained in the confines of the courtyard.

There was an older girl named Louise who lived in my square who I looked up to very much. She wanted to go to another courtyard where my friend Heather I met at kindergarten lived. I asked my mother if I could go. She liked Louise too and knew I admired her. She agreed to entrust me to her care and off we went.

We played for a while in Heather’s courtyard and then Louise wanted to venture into the woods behind Heather’s building. I remember peering into the woods and getting a very bad feeling inside of myself. It was called Intuition. I did not want to go. It looked scary to me and I remembered my mother’s rule not to ever venture outside the courtyards. I didn’t have many rules as a child but I remember that one.

Heather seemed excited and curious about the woods and wanted to go. The second bad feeling then happened inside of me. I was ashamed that I was afraid. I did not want to let the girls know how I felt so I mentioned my mother said I was never to go outside the courtyard. The girls did not seem to hear me or didn’t care. They started venturing down the embankment into the woods. I was left standing all by myself.

The third bad feeling suddenly washed over me. I had a choice and I had to make it NOW. Pressure. The choice was to follow the girls into the woods or be left behind all by myself, which frightened me even more than being with the girls in the woods. I ran down the embankment to catch up to them. This would be a future pattern appearing in my life… not listening to my intuition… being more afraid of being left out or alone than putting myself in bad situations.

We traveled for a while through the woods and I began to relax. Nothing seemed very scary. We eventually got to a break in the woods and came out into this big open field. I was grateful to be in this place of expansion and light and open air flowing. It was so much better than the dark, cramped, wetland woods.

There was a warn looking building off in the distance. Louise knew all about it. She was happy to go visit the hens that lived inside of it. When we got to the hen house, Louise opened the door and the smell was horrific coming out of it. The girls ventured inside and the fourth bad feeling came over me. I comprehended we were going into someone else’s property and I did not like that. I knew I would not want someone in my house bothering my hens. I was suddenly conscious that I was left standing outside where I could be seen by people driving by on the road in the distance and became gripped with fear of being caught. I went inside feeling like I was safe if I was unseen, a belief that can still hold me hostage today.

I thought I could breathe and relax when I got inside but instead I couldn’t wait to get out of there. I held my breath because the smell was so bad. I could feel this intense pressure building inside of me as each second passed waiting for the girls to tire of their little adventure playing with the hens, which I had no desire to do. There was so many of them and they were clacking away and running towards me and I wasn’t sure if they would hurt me or not. They did not seem happy to see us.

I thought for sure I would feel a sense of relief as soon as we got outside. How wrong I was! The minute we stepped outside a long, black car was parked at the side of the road. A man got out of the driver side. He was dressed in a black suit and he had an orange head but I did not see his face. A woman then got out of the passenger side. She was wearing a long white flowing gown with long white blond hair and she looked like a ghost. They started running towards us and were yelling in anger. The girls started to run back into the woods from where we came. I was so much smaller than both of them and I could not keep up. I looked back as I ran and the man’s orange hair and large facial features caused me to believe that a screaming, scary jack-o-lantern and a real ghost lady were coming after us. I was terrified!

I watched the distance between me and the girls growing and growing as I ran. I looked back and the Halloween people were still chasing us. I began to cry and scream to the girls believing I would be captured. The girls looked back and realized I was not going to make it on my own. They circled back and each grabbed one of my arms and began sprinting for the woods at their pace. My legs were bouncing off the ground with a foot hitting the ground occasionally between bounces. I bounced so hard at once point, my shoe came off. We did not stop to retrieve it.

On top of the emotional trauma, I suffered injuries running without a shoe through wooded land that was rocky, filled with fallen trees and branches, and uneven marshy wetness causing my ankles to buckle when stepping on soft spots covered by leaves. I was a mess by the time we made it back to Heather’s courtyard.

The terror did not leave me just because we were now safe. I still had to face my mother in this condition, all because “I” broke her rule. An unforgiveable offense to my soul, one I had paid dearly for repeatedly with each new intensified fear-filled feeling. I now knew why it was a rule. Here is where I learned to be unforgivably hard on myself.

When Louise and I got back to my apartment, I could not even talk. The feelings of guilt inside of me for not listening to my mother and the traumatic outcome brought me such unspeakable sadness. I loved her so very much. I did not want her to be mad at me or worry about me. My mother was a worry wart and when she was in that state, I was in that state feeling intense emotions of fear in my chest. Thankfully, Louise did all the talking. After all, she had been the one in charge of my care.

I was so traumatized, I can remember I could not speak for days without my throat hurting in deep sadness. In fact, I got very sick and I missed school. For years, I tried to make sense that perhaps it was Halloween and those people were dressed in costumes, but it just did not compute with the fact that Louise brought me home my Valentine’s Day cards since I missed school. I now believe my state of trauma caused me to see things that were more scarier than they were. One too many fear based emotions and I overloaded.

I remember Louise trying to make me happy with the Valentine’s Day cards. I can still remember her look of shame of responsibility on her face when she saw me in such a bad physical state. I owned her shame too. I did not like to feel her pain and I felt it deeply as she was trying to encourage me to talk with her. I perceived that if I felt better, it would make her feel better and she would not have as much guilt. I remember trying to push my deep sadness deeper down inside myself, so I could be what she needed me to be…

Happier and Healthier

The only thing that made me feel better was the loving touch of my mother when she cared for my sickness. Somehow I knew she still loved me because of her tenderness but I thought I had lost it and deserved to. I spent many, many years of my life trying to prove my own self worth and lovability. I learned through my EMDR rape recovery that I was loveable and forgivable and even became aware of trusting my Intuition.

As I was undergoing this intensive EMDR treatment, I dumped on my mom emotionally about my remembrance of this story and how much it had bothered me internally. She said she knew exactly what I was talking about with the long black car that used to drive around. She said the reason it was the rule not to leave the courtyard was because a girl had gotten raped in the neighborhood. How ironic I should learn this as I was recovering from my own rape.

The silver lining to this story is… I did the work and EMDR was worth it! I can allow myself to enjoy physical touch with another human being today and not cringe inside and hold my breath. I was formerly known as the family member who it was painful to give a hug to. They could feel it in me… Don’t touch me.

I am still striving for Happier and Healthier at the age of 52. Today, I trust my Intuition. I also have LOTS of Moments in Time to be grateful for that make my soul happy. My goal is to keep creating more of them and continue to work towards Healthier so I can be around to do so!

Love Letters to Lois By Art

Love Letters to Lois by Art: Letter #26

November 8, 2021 Debra Worden

Introductions by Debra

This is a true, first-hand account of the innermost thoughts of Art to his beloved Lois, written while serving our country as a United States Marine during World War II. My name is Debra and I am sharing the gifts of Art’s Love Letters. Art was my grandfather and Lois was my grandmother. It was 1944 and they were 21 years old when the letters began.

An entire week has transpired since the last letter that Art wrote. It appears Art did get the weekend pass he’d hoped to get but was not banking on until it was in his pocket. He speaks of his time wt

The Letter Transcript

Tuesday, July 4, 1944

My Dearest One,

Just finished my washing and what a wash day it was. Not hard labor though as we now have a washing machine in our barracks. Quite easy that way, isn’t it?

Went to the dentist this morning and my wisdom tooth is going to be yanked. It is coming through the wrong way, butted up against another one. The gums are swollen and there is a slight infection. Bothered me a bit up in Washington. Next week sometime the pulling will take place. Some job so they tell me.

Feel real good today though after a swell sleep, simply died for the night. Got up early, for me, about six and was racing to go.

Oh yes, also went to the barbers this morning. Needed one pretty bad up in Washington didn’t you notice. You probably wouldn’t have said anything if you did, trying to be so darn nice to me.

Wrote home a little while ago and told Sis about the weekend. Told her almost everything we did and how I hated to come back. If my little Lois had said the word, yours truly would still be up there. Naturally I left out our little talks, etc. that will always remain between the two of us, right?

You know, Honey, it might be a good idea if you read up on that subject some more at the library. That is where I am headed after writing this letter. I’m surprised at the things I didn’t know after talking for a while. There is quite a lot to it and to insure a perfect marriage it is wise to find it all out. It isn’t like most fellows think, like I told you. There is much more than two people getting together. That is what causes more trouble than anything in marriages, ignorance of certain things. Like the fellows in the barracks, all of them believe they are in the know but it is surprising how many of them couldn’t answer many questions on sex. Most of them anyway have only one thought in mind and that is their own pleasure.

Our marriage isn’t going to be that way as we both have started it on the right way. We both will have a darn good knowledge of what it is all about. And that is the way it should be, sex must be treated as an open subject.

Naturally a couple of times I did get a bit passionate, Honey, but it simply couldn’t be helped. I don’t want you thinking bad of me because, Darling, it is bound to happen. After all, Hun, I am a man. Love, you know, is more than just what I am writing about and Lois I truly love you so much. To have and to hold you always is always on my mind. Love is the sweetest thing – never thought I could be sentimental but you, you little angel did it to me.

Every time I come back from Washington the first thing the fellows all ask is “Did you get married?” They all know you from my talking about you. I told them the next time yours truly has a leave we will be married, that is up from a five or ten day leave. But that is not for a while yet, darn it!

How is everything with you, Honey? Hope by the time this letter gets there you have had a few nights rest. And how is work, having any trouble with that new boss of yours?

Time to say goodbye, Hun. Let’s see, maybe there might be a letter tomorrow. Hope there is or I’m going to be disappointed. Say hello to the girls for me. Will write again tomorrow. Bye.

With All My Love,
Art

To receive alerts of future letters, please Subscribe to my Blog here.

To watch a video of today’s letter, visit the video below.

Love Letters to Lois By Art

Love Letters to Lois by Art: Letter #25

November 5, 2021 Debra Worden

Introductions by Debra

The Letter Transcript

Tuesday, June 27, 1944

My Darling,

Well, it looks right now that I’ll be in Washington this weekend. Never a sure thing though, until the pass is in my pocket. It will be Thursday when I get the pass and I’ll call up the minute it is in my possession.

No letter from you today, Honey, and it looks like your skipping up on me a bit. I’ll forgive you, Lois, as that routine your going through doesn’t give you much time for anything. Even one of your letters was written at midnight. Hope Darling, your not too tired when I get up there. Frankly, I couldn’t take that late night and still be on my feet. That is one thing that beats me, is how a girl that doesn’t eat much can still have so much energy. And lots of women are like that too. Maybe you can tell me how you do it.

The picture I like best, Lois, is 148K. What do you think? I sent the Family picture home and also one of you. The rest I cut down and they now reside in my wallet. Now no matter where I am, can simply flick my wallet open and there you are, the sweetest little girl in all the world.

Lois, does writing letters come easy on some days than on others? Sometimes I can really rattle a letter off and on other days I can’t find a thing to put down on paper. Especially when every day here is about the same. Go to school every morning either instruct or sit them through. Afternoons go swimming or rowing. Have to keep in condition some how.

Your probably wondering how much longer I’m going to be here. Well here is some half way straight dope. Our commitment will be up here July 15th. After that, Honey, I don’t know. We are supposed to go to Cherry Point but that isn’t too bad, as I’ll be able to come up there from the Point.

Darling will cut it short now. Hope a letter from you is in tomorrow. Be terribly disappointed if there isn’t. I love you always, Lois. Bye.

With Love Ever Yours,
Art

Questions, Conclusions and Commentary

Commentary: I have to really admire these two. Letters are the only thing tying them together and nurturing their relationship and although Art writes to Lois every day, there is no guarantee he will receive a letter from her to read and today was another day with no letter. There is no guarantee he will receive passes to even see her from weekend to weekend, and he has no idea where he is going to be sent next. Talk about taking a risk and just trusting. Must have been very hard for both of them.

To receive alerts of future letters, please Subscribe to my Blog here.

To watch a video of today’s letter, visit the video below.

Christian Inspiration, Dreams, flowers, Life, Nature, Parables, Transformation

A Parable of Flowers

October 21, 2021October 22, 2021 Debra Worden

-Written in 2004

The Dandelion

Most of us look at Dandelions and think of them as weeds not worthy of fertilizing. Yet the Dandelion starts out a stunning shade of yellow like that of the Sunflower. Children are drawn to its bright, beautiful color and believe it to be a delightful flower worthy of picking. To a child, the Dandelion is a perfect masterpiece as it is. They are ignorant to the fact it is just a weed.

What is the fate of a Dandelion that no child reaches toward? The once beautiful structure turns grey and is blown by the wind never to be seen again. The Dandelions are much like the lost souls who are suffering in our world without a relationship with God. They are born as a masterpiece of beauty. They begin as precious, innocent babies. Any adult child of God would be drawn to love them, ignorant to the fact the child may be headed for a life of pain, powerlessness, nowhere, nothingness….

What is the fate of the lost souls that no one chooses to reach out to in our world? Feeling unloved, they may be blown by the winds, growing old and grey without knowing a way home to The Father.

The Phlox

The Phlox has a tiny stem. By itself it doesn’t look like a flower of magnificence. Its petals are few and its center is tiny. Do not be deceived by the power of this precious, little flower. This flower can be planted among the rocks and the worst of soil and still flourish and spread. Perhaps it is their tiny roots working together in community to seek their way down to find water in the soil together is what gives them nourishment to multiply the way they do.

If you’ve ever seen a bed of Phlox, you know it can hardly contain itself. No boundary can withhold this flower from spreading its beauty. Each person who has found God is just like one of the Phlox. It is hard to comprehend that one little person in God’s flock can do so much for the rest of the flock, but it is harder to be filled with the Spirit of God when you’re walking the journey alone. By bonding together and gaining nourishment and strength from each other and our source, our cups overflow onto those around us and inevitably we extend our boundaries. Like the Phlox, most who have found God can hardly contain ourselves and we just want to spread God’s Love for the sake of everyone around us.

The Sunflower

The Sunflower has a stem so thick it looks more like a stalk. It is full of the strength needed to uphold its massive flower. The Sunflower does not need anything to lean on like other tall flowers. No fence or trellis is required. The only thing the Sunflower seems to yearn for is the Sun. It looks to the source of its strength every moment of every day, its face obediently turning and following the Sun as it arcs across the sky from East to West, never wavering.

Can you picture how hard it must be for that stalk to bend and follow its source of strength and yet still fulfill its duty to support that enormous flower? When I think of a Sunflower, it reminds me of Jesus. Like the Sunflower, he was so full of the strength needed to uphold his massive mission. He leaned on no one. He always turned to his source, The Father, as his supply of strength. He never wavered.

Is there another flower that has a center like the Sunflower? Its heart is so huge and so full of seeds to be spread on the earth. Likewise, I can think of no other man whose heart was as large as Jesus’. Whether you believe in him or not, you have to admire how big of a heart he had. My heart aches and wants to break over the thought of just one of those that I love not making it to heaven. This man’s heart was so huge his heart ached at the thought of any soul not making it heaven.

He must have been full of sadness for each and every one of us to wish to endure what he did and die for every last one of us. Perhaps he didn’t just go into solitary places to pray but to cry his heart out seeing how far so many were from home. I believe he is watching our world and still crying…….

While he spread so many, many seeds upon the earth to bring souls home to The Father, there are still so many Dandelions in our world who need the Phlox of Gods children to love them.

Faith Without Works

What would happen to the Phlox if each one became comfortable? What if they thought they were safe just by being part of the massive bed? What if they let the others do all the work of extending their boundaries? What if they stopped drawing from their source of nourishment believing they would be nourished by the work of others? Their mass would dwindle and become sparse. Their brilliance would fade since the Phlox are most admirable for their beauty in numbers.

What would our world look like if each one of us who believe in God became comfortable? What if we believed we were safe just being part of the masses but never trying to practice what the mass teaches? What if each of us believed there were others to do the work of extending the boundaries of God’s love and left that work all up to them? How would we treat others if we stopped drawing from the source of our own love from the Father?

You see, that Son flower must still be crying because there are still so many Dandelions out there … lonely, suffering or feeling unworthy, not knowing the love of The Father. They have no one who cares to reach out and fertilize them with love as any young child would do for the Dandelion.

How many in the flock of sheep are too comfortable in our self absorbed world? We must become like little children who run to the Dandelions and proudly say “Look, Daddy, a flower!”. We must run to the Dandelions of our world and with a great sense of joy and pride say to our Heavenly Father, “Look at the precious lost soul I have found and have loved!”

A Prayer for You

To the Phlox: The next time you see a Dandelion, may you be reminded of this parable. May you pray for a soul you know is suffering or feeling unloved to come into the flock of God’s sheep. May you be reminded of your innocence when you were a child and ran to the Dandelions. May you feel deep in your soul you are helping this person, pride within your heart for doing so, and God’s love shining upon you in gladness. Whether that Dandelion is young, bright and yellow one or an old and grey one… please pray, for even children find something worthy in the old and grey ones. In fact, if that Dandelion is an old and grey one, may you take a risk and feel like a child again, pick it, and make a wish upon it for a lost Dandelion of this world.

To the Dandelions: May you know that you are loved by God even if no one extends love to you in this world. May you know that you are beautiful just as you are. May God introduce you to one in his flock who can help lead you into the knowledge of the fullness of God’s love. May you enter the journey of becoming one of those in the flock who can help other Dandelions, for you can identify with the lost souls more then anyone else. You are the least threatening to them and can do the most to reach them since you’ve been one yourself.

To Those Striving to be Sunflowers: May you never give up in your determination. May God give you the strength to endure the rest of your journey and the answers you need in order to get there. May you pray earnestly for the Dandelions of this world. May you feel the sadness that comes with knowing they need your prayers but still not lose sight of the joy. May you pray for those in the Phlox of our world to yearn to be Sunflowers, for just imagine what the world would look like if everyone in the flock of God’s children strove to be as obedient to their source as the Sunflowers. It would be Heavenly!

Love Letters to Lois By Art

Love Letters to Lois by Art: Letter #24

September 16, 2021 Debra Worden

Introductions by Debra

The Letter Transcript

Monday, June 26, 1944

My Dearest Lois,

Two letters from you today and one of them contained what I’ve been waiting for. The pictures were really perfect. My little Honey, came out wonderful and I’m really tickled to death. Going to send some of them home tonight to show the Folks. They’ll be in love with you I know. They keep asking about those pictures we took. Naturally I’ll get them back as I don’t care to part with anyone of them. Thanks, Honey, you sure are a wonderful girl. Lucky guy that I am being engaged to you!

Darling, am enclosing my sister’s letter, what do you think of it? You know it would be awfully nice if you dropped the Folks a letter. My folks would be happy over it I know.

So you went to a fortune teller. Quite interesting even though it is so much baloney. We are going to get married next spring, huh? That is something we are going to talk over this weekend, I hope. Okay, honey? Hope that little package does come as it contains fifteen dollars (equivalent to $233.15 today, September 2021). The pin isn’t much but I’d like to see you get that money back!

Too bad about Alice leaving but will still live with you girls when she comes back, right?

Hmmm, sounds like my “Little One” is getting mighty P.O.’d at the office. Doesn’t sound like my Lois, but then everybody runs into some kind of trouble now and then. We have a lot of that too in the service Honey, but deal with it different.

Think I’ll wait to ask you some more questions Lois. Will find out tomorrow if I come or not for sure. No need to worry about censors, Darling, as there is no such thing in the States. That is only overseas.

I know I haven’t answered many questions Dear, but will answer them tomorrow. Have quite a bit of ironing to do tonight and must be presentable to my little women.

Oh yes, will call this Thursday and let you know for sure. No more surprises, huh?

Bye for now, Honey. I love you more and more every day. Be seeing you in my dreams.

With All My Love,
Art

Questions, Conclusions and Commentary

Enclosed in this letter was a comic strip clipping from a newspaper. Art took the time to put the names of his family members next to different characters in the comic strip, including the dog. I know his sister is Irmy and his brother is Bob. I’m not sure who Frank and Nancy are but I am sure my mother must know.

To receive alerts of future letters, please Subscribe to my Blog here.

To watch a video of today’s letter, visit the video below.

Love Letters to Lois By Art

Love Letters to Lois by Art: Letter #23

August 25, 2021 Debra Worden

Introductions by Debra

The Letter Transcript

Sunday, June 25, 1944

Darling,

Am not going to write much tonight as it is hard without one of yours to go by.

Did the same as I did yesterday, was at the beach all day. We did take pictures though, and will send you some that is if you like.

Oh yes, Dear, I did have two beers last night. Was with the fellows and besides I sure was thirsty. Been plenty warm around here the past couple of days. You don’t mind do you? You said it was ok, met over two beers and they were the first this week.

Should be a couple of letters from you tomorrow. Can hardly wait for the morning to come. Hope the pictures are included!

Not much of a letter is it, Lois. Oh well, I’ll make up for it tomorrow, okay? Please don’t get angry, if you do get mad take it out on the post office. Bye Honey.

With All My Love,
Art

Questions, Conclusions and Commentary

I’ll be honest. I was disappointed with this letter. I had expected to hear in today’s letter a story of how Art had earned himself an angel halo. He stated in the prior letter that he would tell Lois about it in the next letter. There was no such story in today’s letter. Instead there was the confession that he drank beers. However, it appears Lois must have had a change of heart on that since he states she said it would be okay. Perhaps she came to reason that perhaps she was expecting too much for Art to never drink at all and decided that all things in moderation may be okay. Regardless, I felt disappointment on behalf of Lois. Art knows how Lois feels about his drinking and he had promised her he wouldn’t drink. I tried to understand why Art would have broken that promise. I think that Art may be suffering from what is known as “Survivor’s Guilt”. After all, he was only one of 2 marines to survive a deadly battle and now D-Day has just happened and his brother was sent over seas into the thick of it. He clearly was wrestling with how unfair that seemed in the last letter.

Today was my grandmother’s birthday. I decided it was time to pick up this story again for her. This was only ONE letter and there are many more to read. Perhaps the story of Art’s angel wings will come in time.

To receive alerts of future letters, please Subscribe to my Blog here.

To watch a video of today’s letter, visit the video below.

Spencer the Squirrel

Spencer the Squirrel: Sharing Some Squirrel-ness

July 14, 2021July 15, 2021 Debra Worden

July 14, 2021

Hello there,

Pleasure to make your acquaintance! My name is Spencer. Debra gave me that name. I live in a tree in her backyard. The tree is so very kind to open herself up and provide shelter for my family. Did you know that it makes trees happy when animals live inside of them? Trees are nurturers.

Come along with me and I will show you about me and the nice home I have for my family!

Here we are! I make this trip up the tree many times a day. You can actually see the tunnel of my home bulging out from the side of the tree on my right. We’ve dug all the way down into the tree. The entrance to our home is that hole up there at the top where I’m headed!

Some people have been trying to convince Debra she should take the tree down. They say it is not safe if its hollow inside. While I understand they have Debra’s safety in mind, I know the strength of this tree. My instincts will tell me when it is time to vacate and now is not that time. This tree is FULL of life despite the fact it holds space for my family inside.

I see Debra looking at the tree when it is windy and stormy. She sees how strong the tree is and that its limbs barely sway in the breeze. I am really grateful Debra listens to her own intuition and not the people who mean her well. My family would surely hate to lose our home! Debra feels the same way. She is worried about her house because climate change is eroding her property.

One night, Debra prayed to the trees around her house. There are three of them. Two in the back and one in the front. She was very upset and crying in her bed. She reached out to the trees with her heart and mind and communicated to them. She asked them if they could please help support her house. She envisioned the 3 trees and their strong roots getting stronger and thicker. She saw them in her mind meeting up with each other underneath her home and intertwining.

Debra has LOTS of faith in her prayers!!! The trees heard her. The one I live in told me so. I bet you didn’t know that we animals and trees can communicate with each other. Science is starting to explore this. If you’d like you can read more about that in the link below.

Acoustic communication in plant–animal interactions – ScienceDirect

Some day it would be nice if you humans could communicate with nature too. After all, we are one big happy family of creation co-existing on this beautiful planet!!! It makes us all so sad in the nature kingdom to know we can all hear each other… and you, but you are all so busy and blocked to hear the sounds of nature. It’s magical!!!

Did you know we love our family members just like you do? Yes… we do. Debra has had the pleasure of witnessing me in action. You see… we know when we are going to have a really hard rain that might flood our home. I, Spencer, come to the rescue when that happens!!!

I get busy gathering leaves to fill the entrance of our home. I make dozens of trips up and down the tree mouthful by mouthful blocking up the hole. I use my nose and push the leaves way down and pack them very tight! You would be surprised how strong and durable this furry little nose is! My head looks like a jackhammer slamming concrete! I become Super Squirrel!!!

Don’t I look fantastic! I was so happy to pose for Debra. I felt so good inside when I was done building that blockage! I spent a LOT of work on that. I did it because I LOVE my family.

Then I felt Debra’s sadness. She wondered what I was going to do. She realized there was no way I could be inside with my family during the rain storm. It was up to me board up the hole and then find a safe place to ride out the storm!

Here is where I spent my time. I was there for hours. I nestled up to another tree on a very small branch. I needed to keep a lookout from someplace way up high so I could see the tree where my family lives. I knew they were in good hands in the beloved tree that keeps us warm and safe in its limbs. I actually took a nap!

Some day I hope to be able to communicate with Debra and reassure her she does not need to be sad for us squirrels. We are doing just fine. It is we who are concerned for humanity. I know Debra is working on that. I hear her thoughts when she sits under the tree where we live. We are all rooting for her! Even the tree!

Mindfulness, Nature

Walking to Where I AM

July 11, 2021July 15, 2021 Debra Worden

July 11, 2021

Mindful walking…
Conscious… deliberate… slow… steps.
Even just from here to there…
Equals peace and serenity…
Rocket fuel to the present moment…
Yet not a rocket flying feeling at all…
More like a feather…
Dropping slowly… gently… softly…
A returning home to One-Self.

Here are some of the things I Witness When Mindful Walking.