Watched Over Charleston
“They are watching over you, the ones who have gone before, the ones who know you best, the spirits of a love that never dies, your ancestors of hope and courage, those bright souls who shaped your life and gave you life and showed you what life really was, they watch over you, they hear you and care for you, no matter what comes, no matter what happens, they are there, sheltering you beneath their blessing, giving you the wisdom you need, the strength you need, to live as they lived, to love as they loved, to watch in wonder the unfolding of a blanket of dreams.” Bishop Steven Charleston, daily Facebook
My grandmothers still caring for me
I know I am watched over by loved ones who have died. I have no doubt about it. There are times I am able to do things I know I could never do alone without being helped and cared for by others. My grandfather was the most important person in my growing up years who taught me about unconditional love. When he died, I was devastated. I wanted to do something to honor him. I knew he did not like my smoking. I had tried to quit many times without success. Quitting smoking for me was a spiritual experience. I have not had a cigarette since December 7, 1979, the day of my grandfather’s funeral. My grandfather loved me when he was living and saved my life after he died.
One New Year’s Eve I walked the labyrinth that evening at Christ Church. It was a cool night and I was wearing a long black shawl with fringes like ones you sometimes see over pianos. Suddenly during the walk, I felt the presence of my grandmothers holding and surrounding me like the shawl around my shoulders.
This weekend I had a dream that I received a letter from Peggy Hayes, my former spiritual director. I knew it was from her because of the address and writing, but I woke up before I could read the printed handwritten message on the short folded up letter. My prayers have been asking what was in the letter. I am planning to ask my dream group about it as well this morning.
Joanna joannaseibert.com