Words. Wisdom. Wellness.
Hello, Beautiful Soul!
I am so glad that you are here.
I hope that my Soul Reminders help you
connect more deeply to God so that you
know your purpose,
you live your truth,
and you love yourself.
It is an honor and a joy to write them for you.
Jennifer, I'd like to ask you...
“…line upon line; here a little, and there a little.”
“God, I’ve been praying for healing for a very long time,” I reminded Him this morning when I went out walking.
“I know. I’ve heard you,” God answered.
“Are you sure? Because you haven’t really healed me,” I said.
“You’ve seen improvements, haven’t you?” God asked.
“Yes. a few things are better. But I want real healing,” I insisted.
“What do you think your improvements are?”
“I don’t know. But they don’t feel like they mean I’ll improve more,” I said.
“Each improvement is a step towards greater healing,” God said gently. “Appreciate each step in the process for what it is. Enjoy what healing you have to date, and expect more to come.”
“I’ll do my best to be grateful for the steps that have been made thus far,” I replied. “And I’ll expect more healing in the future when the time is right.”
“There you go, Sparrow. Step by step,” God said.
“For the Son of Man came to seek…”
“Ah, there you are, Sparrow,” God called to me as He opened the garden gate. “I’ve been looking for you.”
“The tomatoes needed staking,” I said. “I came out early, before the heat. What’s on your mind?”
“Nothing, really. I just wanted to hang out with you today,” He answered.
“I want to hang out with you, too,” I said.
“Great! What shall we do today?” God asked.
“What do you want me to do?” I asked.
“Whatever makes your heart happy,” He said.
I thought for a few moments. “Let’s go swimming down at the Yuba River.”
“That’s a good idea. I’m already there with a lot of other people. It can be like a little party,” God said. I could hear a happiness in His voice.
I smiled, thinking of how God seeks out our company, wanting so very much to be involved in the day to day activities of our lives. “Let me finish with this tomato bush, and I’ll go get my swimsuit.”
God smiled. “Here, let me help you,” and together we tied up the sprawling branches.
I wonder, what are you doing with God today?
“How precious is Your lovingkindness, O God!
And the children of men take refuge in the shadow of Your wings.”
Sitting in the shade on my porch, I took refuge from the punishing heat of the summer day—the sun so intense that the trees seemed to shimmer. Suddenly, a large shadow moved across the yard, startling me. I looked up to see an enormous bird circling in the blue sky. It looked majestic; its wings outstretched, gliding on the currents. I watched its wide shadow grace the yard again and again as it soared high above.
“I don’t know why God, but that bird’s shadow brings up some emotions in me,” I said out loud.
“How does it make you feel?” God asked.
I thought of the bird’s outstretched wings. They brought to mind the outstretched arms on a cross so many years ago. “I feel safe and loved,” I said.
“You are safe and loved, my little one,” God whispered.
The bird continued to draw lazy circles in the sky, and I forgot about the heat, at least for a few moments, while I thought about God’s wonderful gifts for us and His love that we can’t fully fathom.
“Again Jesus spoke to them, saying, “I am the light of the world.”
This morning, when the earth was still wet with dew, I walked out into the garden. The sunflowers by the fence stared expectantly towards the east, waiting for the sun—waiting to turn their pedaled heads to follow her as she marched across the sky. “I want to be like them,” I whispered to God. “I want to turn my face to you and follow you every day.”
“I’d like that,” God said.
“I may need some help,” I confessed. “I’m often distracted, stuck in my ego.”
“I sent my Son to help you. His love will light your way to me.”
I sat down on the wooden bench under the pear tree and listened to the sounds of God’s creation waking up, feeling Christ’s spirit stirring in my heart. I lifted my face to my Father and for a moment, was overcome by the sweetness of His love for me. Unexpected tears of gratitude made their way down my face. I sat there for a long time, in the quiet of the morning, in the warmth of God’s gentle embrace.
“Be still and know that I am God.”
“You’re back at it,” God admonished me this morning. “You’ve taken the reigns again.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” I said.
“Why can’t you let me do the work?” He asked.
“Stop. Be still. Allow me to do the work. I’m God, after all.” I could hear the smile in His voice. “Be still and you’ll experience my power.”
“You’re right. I’ll never know your power if I keep taking charge,” I agreed.
“Thanks for the reminder,” I said. “I’ll do my best to be still; to let you do the work.”
“Thanks for letting go of the reigns,” God said, and He winked and tipped His hat at me.
“…a time to be born and a time to die…”
I’ve shared this quote before. It is so transformative that I share it again with you.
“You will lose everything. Your money, your power, your fame, your success, perhaps even your memories. Your looks will go. Loved ones will die. Your body will fall apart. Everything that seems permanent is impermanent and will be smashed. Experience will gradually, or not so gradually, strip away everything that it can strip away. Waking up means facing this reality with open eyes and no longer turning away.
But right now, we stand on sacred and holy ground, for that which will be lost has not yet been lost, and realizing this is the key to unspeakable joy. Whoever or whatever is in your life right now has not yet been taken away from you. This may sound trivial, obvious, like nothing, but really it is the key to everything, the why and how and wherefore of existence. Impermanence has already rendered everything and everyone around you so deeply holy and significant and worthy of your heartbreaking gratitude. Loss has already transfigured your life into an altar.”
— Jeff Foster
“And he said, “The kingdom of God is as if a man should scatter seed on the ground.
He sleeps and rises night and day, and the seed sprouts and grows; he knows not how.
The earth produces by itself, first the blade, then the ear, then the full grain in the ear.”
Walking the garden, in temperatures so warm as to be almost overbearing, I noticed several zucchinis ripe for the picking. Only a few weeks ago, they were tiny starts, pushing up from seed. In the warmth of the summer sun, they had grown considerably.
“They look good,” God said.
“Thank you,” I said, then realized the silliness of those words. “Thank you. I didn’t do anything other than put the plants into the ground. They are doing what you designed them to do.”
“You are right. Everything I created is designed to grow,” God said. “It’s built into all life.”
I walked over to the tomato plants, some so heavy with unripened fruit that their branches rested on the ground. “I’ll stake those when it’s cooler out this evening.”
“They’ll appreciate that,” God said.
I walked, in awe of the plants doing what God intended for them to do. “Help me to grow as you intend,” I prayed. “Help me to blossom into who you want me to be.”
“Keep opening your heart to love and you’ll bloom magnificently,” God replied as He reached down and took my hand in His. We walked the rest of the garden together, in the warmth of the sun and His abiding love.
“God is spirit…”
“I’ve been wanting to ask you a question, God, but I don’t know if you’ll be offended,” I said as I climbed onto the porch swing.
“Try me,” God said.
I got settled in and gave the swing a gentle push to start it swaying. “I love you and I trust you, but I don’t know what you are. So that’s my question. What are you?”
“That’s a good question,” He answered. “And I’m not offended. I don’t have a body, even though people speak of me as if I do. I’ve been described as spirit and as love—the alpha and the omega, the beginning and the end. I’m all of those things but more than those things. I am God.”
“Yes, I know you are God. I am not questioning that. I’m questioning what you are made of.” I explained.
“You don’t have the capacity to understand what I am,” God said.
“Why?” I asked.
“Because I made you that way. if you could fully understand me, you’d not appreciate the world I created for you. You’d not be pleased by the beauty of the sunset, or take delight in the sights and sounds of a thunderstorm. You’d not be able to fully enjoy the miracle of birth or appreciate the profundity of death. You’d not be happy here on earth if you were able to fully understand me. So instead, you understand me through what I’ve created for you,” God explained.
“Will we ever be able to understand you fully?” I asked.
“No. But when you leave your body and return home, you’ll experience my love more fully than you do now,” God said gently. “When that happens, you won’t question what I am. You’ll be happy to simply bath in my Light and in my Love.”
I allowed the swing to come to a stop and I closed my eyes. I sat there, still, in the quiet of the late afternoon and appreciated that God was there with me, even if I was not able to fully understand what God is.
“For God has not given us a spirit of fear and timidity,
but of power, love, and self-discipline.”
~2 Timothy 1:7
I sat in the quiet of the rising sun, out in my garden. I prayed and pondered my life, thinking of all of the many twists and turns it had taken.
“You aren’t your story,” God said. “You are not the events that have taken place in your life,” God answered. “You are more than a mom, a coach, a sister, a daughter, a woman who has been abused or hurt. You are more than a person who stopped drinking. You are more than a person who had a brain injury and lost everything. You aren’t even your name. You aren’t Jennifer.”
“I’m not? Then who am I?”
“You are not a who. You are a what,” God said gently. “Instead of getting lost in the story you tell yourself about who you are you, think about what you are. You are a part of my creation. Your true nature is far greater than anything that has, or ever will, happen to you. Drop the stories. Then, drop the storyteller. Let your consciousness expand beyond the boundaries you’ve created. Remember what you are.”
“That may take me some time and effort,” I said. “I’m not used to thinking in those terms.”
“I’m here to help you,” God said. A songbird lifted her voice to the morning. I turned my face to the heavens and closed my eyes. I did my best to forget who I am and to just be what I am. For a moment, I was at peace, no longer bound to my story. I was fully connected to God.
“Then Jesus told his disciples, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me.”
“Why can’t my life be easier, you know, business as usual?” I complained as I was climbing into bed after a long day.
“It was never business as usual for my Son,” God answered. “He bucked the establishment.”
“What do you mean?”
“Jesus often talked about how hard it was for a rich man to enter my kingdom—you know—the camel and eye of a needle thing,” God said. “And don’t forget that He chased the money changers out of my house.”
“I remember reading about that,” I said.
“He bucked the religious establishment, too. He healed on the Sabbath because people were more important than the law. He was a rebel. If you want to follow Him, you’ll have to be a bit of a rebel yourself.”
“Like what?” I asked.
“You’ll have to rebel against the social norms that want you to believe that the number of digits in your bank account is what makes for success. Also, If you follow my Son, you’ll have to rebel against the idea that some people aren’t worthy of your love. You’ll also have to rebel against the idea that you are better than the sick, the poor, or the downtrodden. You’ll have to rebel against your ego which wants you to believe that you are more important than others, or that life should go your way all the time,” God said. “My Son taught that the Kingdom of God is found within, beyond the ego, beyond the self, all the way down into the soul. You’re already on the right track. Keep going. It may not be easy, but it will be worth it. For it is only when you access my Kingdom, that you’ll truly be at peace.”
“I’ll do my best to follow In your Son’s footsteps and not complain about the cost, knowing I’ll gain your Kingdom,” I said as I pulled up the blanket around me and settled my head onto my pillow.
“Sweet dreams, Sparrow,” God whispered, and turned off the light.