FLOOD

Hour of Need

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…you easily forget My words and My promises to you. Call upon the Holy Spirit to keep My words and My promises alive in your heart, and to call them to mind in your hours of need.   ~  In Sinu Jesu

          Today, nearly 4 months from my last Friday afternoon trip to church, I was finally back in church on a Friday again, and there, I touched the sweetness of a homecoming, new to me. Since we are still in the recovery phase, there were no flowers in church. And yet, there was a gentle softness to the still air, a waiting love.

          It took me a long time to quieten down, there was much to say, though my words were few.

          In my ending minutes in that serene stillness, He slipped His words into my heart. Nothing stirred within me as my eyes went over all other words. Nothing until,

          …you easily forget My words and My promises to you. Call upon the Holy Spirit to keep My words and My promises alive in your heart, and to call them to mind in your hours of need. 

          And still, doubt tugged at me. What if I was seeing things where there were none? When you’re straining at hope, it’s easy to slip and misidentify. They were after all words He spoke to a Benedictine monk, not to me.

          My Lord knew I would doubt and He was ready for me.

When the Spirit of truth comes,
He will guide you to all truth
and remind you of all I told you.   ~  John 16:13A; 14:26D

          And just like that, the sliver of doubt disappeared.

Call upon the Holy Spirit to keep My words and My promises alive in your heart, and to call them to mind in your hours of need. 

          He alone knows how far ahead the undulating dunes of work stretch out. He alone knows how much it will take out of me. He alone knows how easily I will forget, and fret because of it. Call upon the Holy Spirit, says my Jesus to me on my first return to His Friday Heart.

          That in my hour of need, when I am most bereft, I will remember once more.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lent 15 ~ A Shifting

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          A year ago, in the week before Lent 2016, I dreamt of a coming flood. A terrible, terrible rush of angry, filthy, muddy water. And the word given to me later by St Joseph, the Discerner of Dreams, was – Prepare. This call was repeated a few short months later.

          Since then, though I’ve often pondered it, I’ve not been told about a flood again. No more dreams of such a thing, either. Still, that didn’t keep me from wondering, What kind of a flood was it? From a terrible rain? A sea surge? An earthquake leading to a tsunami?

Or a spiritual flood of some sort, as many are speculating as well?

          Yesterday, I received an email from a humble, loving and deeply devout lady. She had reason to recall my old dream – she had been recently hearing of people once more having premonitions of a tsunami.

          I had nothing much to offer in my reply to her; there had been no recent stirring of my spirit in this regard.

          But as I ended my reply, I told her,

We must stay close to prayer. I am sensing a shifting.

          I don’t know where that came from. And I didn’t think much of it either as I sent off the email.

          Only today has it come to me that a tsunami is caused by a displacement of a large amount of water.

          Displacement.

          A shifting?