Mark the Doors


          The past few unpleasant days were lived through the prayer to Mother Mary that I had learned: I bind my heart to Yours. All through those tough hours, in my waking and in my sleep, I whispered, I bind my heart to Yours. Through the initial desolation, right up to later, when I learned that pain or no pain, being a Christian meant living God’s Commandments; that there was no dark corner to duck into to wallow, no time-out to not obey His decrees.

          And to walk the path God had set out for me, I needed that little prayer to take me from one step to the next. A long day later, I finally came to the rain-soaked night hours, feeling sore from the endless bouts against the world and against my rebel self.

          Tired, listless. Then, a tiny bud gently unbuttoned itself in my memory.

          The day before I had more of my life torn down, a name had floated by: Julian of Norwich. I barely knew anything of her. In fact, I had initially assumed she was a man. I had a faint idea that she was some sort of a mystic.

          Having no interest in her that day, earlier in the week, and I didn’t pursue her.

          But in the ashes of the latest fire in my heart, she floated by again. Gently, lingering only till I looked up. Then, she was gone. I had been emptied enough through the wounding to realize Julian of Norwich wanted me to seek her.

          So, I stumbled after her, and learned of a soul who so deeply yearned to love her GodThe anchoress didn’t keep me waiting and wildly searching. She quickly made clear why she had come to me by giving me the Lord’s words to her:

All shall be well

          It didn’t feel like the awaited dew on fire. It wasn’t the balm I was hoping for.

          But I knew God would never send His messenger with something I didn’t need. So, I took the four little words, and tucked them into the folds of my spirit. All through my sleep that night, each time I awakened and prayed I bind my heart to Yours, I remembered All shall be well. Like two moons, they shed their soft luminescence over my ragged sleep, and brought me a healing I didn’t feel.

          When I had risen to greet the somber morning skies wrapped in the blankets of heavy mists, I was determined to return to my calling of prayer. I didn’t feel refreshed. I didn’t feel healed. But there was work to be done, and I had stayed away long enough.

          The memory of the dream of the white map came before me again. Wanting to make up for lost time, I sifted through my store of prayers to be said. I felt the lightest of whispers slip by:

 The Illumination of Conscience.

          Directing my prayers towards Africa, I prayed for spirits to be made ready for the illumination of conscience, the revelation of each one’s soul as God sees it. Through the gentle and busy weave of hours and work that followed, I tried to consecrate my efforts for the day as a prayer offering towards the intention.

          Sinking into sleep in grateful relief at the end of the day, I reached for the prayer for Africa again, but my seeking came up empty. Instead, another prayer was rested on my searching spirit:

Blood of Christ,

Mark the doors

Of human hearts.

          Everything went still.

          Blood of Christ to mark. Blood of the Lamb on doors.

Prayer of the Passover.





  1. Caitlynnegrace,
    Are these ancient “rumors” of Divine Love the first whispers of God’s holy breeze? …softly they announce the stir of something moving…undetected…something coming.
    Is this when those who listen will hear? Will things long hidden emerge for eyes that see?
    Why “Mark the Doors”? Does the new Exodus approach?
    Who are we, but loved of God!
    Lord, see not our iniquities.
    God’s Child

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Dear God’s Child,
      This year, 1 Kings 19 has come to me several times, each time bearing something different for me ~ comfort for the soul, a gentle tug and prod to keep going, a stilling of the waves of noise in my spirit.

      A week back, 1 Kings 19: 11-12 came once more.

      Then the LORD said: Go out and stand on the mountain before the LORD; the LORD will pass by. There was a strong and violent wind rending the mountains and crushing rocks before the LORD—but the LORD was not in the wind; after the wind, an earthquake—but the LORD was not in the earthquake;
      12 after the earthquake, fire—but the LORD was not in the fire; after the fire, a light silent sound.

      … a light silent sound
      The words came and stood still before me, refusing to yield its secret. Was it to still myself more? Withdraw even more?

      Then your words today ~ …softly they announce the stir of something moving…undetected…something coming.

      My spirit quickens, God’s Child.


    1. No more than you, Susan. With each prayer you pray from your own struggles, may God press you and your family deeper into His bosom. I pray that when we carry our crosses, someone else in the world somewhere finds the strength to carry theirs in love.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Susan,
    How nice to bump into you here. Caitlynnegrace is good company for those of us who seek honesty and depth of soul. You each lighten my heart, even in the midst of struggle and storm.

    Can I share a thought among companions on these rough seas?

    Do you think Jesus knew that the threatening winds would rage when he told Peter and the apostles to get into the boat to cross to the other shore? Of course, He did. Did He want them to be fearful and call for his help? No, but they needed to turn to Him to discover that “peace that passes all understanding”…the calm that follows faith.

    We are willingly in the boat…the waves are tossing…we have no hope, but for the trust we have in Him. It is His strength and love that will see us through, not our own.

    Jesus, we trust in you.
    God’s Child

    Liked by 1 person

    1. …we have no hope, but for the trust we have in Him.

      God’s Child,
      The one prayer that resonated with me from a young age was Mark 9:24 – Lord I believe, help my unbelief. Almost always in a boat rocked by waves, I rocked it harder with my doubting and fears all my life. But that prayer, Mark 9:24, was like Jesus telling He understood fears and falling. But that His hand was still held out to help.


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