STEPPING

Secret Garden

Short Story

Welcome!  Join me in climbing this dewy magenta staircase that I may share a secret with you…in each step are loving memories and great expectations.  Are you enjoying the vibrant and lush panorama?  This path leads to a peaceful oasis.  This is my secret garden of Love where God smiles or oftentimes frowns at me, yet every time we abound in rich rendezvous.  Rest awaits me in this spot where I can soak in wisdom to live out my life, a springboard for Grace to pave the way for my eternal rest.  I’m so grateful you took a moment to ponder with me.  Hopefully, you come away refreshed, perhaps even eager to discover your own secret garden…it is there waiting for you!

Thank you for visiting your scribe for love, truth and peace

SIMPLY LOVE

Letting Go to Simply Love Watercolor by Mia Broder

A short Story

LETTING GO – TO SIMPLY LOVE – is letting go of the past and giving way to welcome happiness.

When was the last time you cried out harmful chemicals out of your heart?  Wasn’t it when you rejected yourself as a victim and realized you could not control your life?

I see myself in Mia’s young girl.  I remember the gradual transformation that took place in me when I finally let go of an unfortunate past.  Jesus was calling out ‘Ephphatha’ Be opened.  The more I received God, the more He gave me unparalleled goodness, prosperity and my dreams came true–that’s letting go to simply love.

Mia’s girl is surrounded in royal purple like Jesus’ regal blood-stained robe during His Passion–and my own–in favorite purple color.  She seems to be walking on air as I have on a few stupendous occasions and now as I encounter Jesus daily.  Her dazzling dress is specially tailored with contrasting patterns like my mother would sew for me for special celebrations.  Her fanciful shoes evoke Cinderella wishing to attend the ball hoping to meet her prince charming, like God gave me my Beloved John.  Best are the rainbow buttons with four holes crisscrossing, two of them releasing agony and the other two flooding me with God’s loving hope.  Mia’s buttons are like enamored hearts floating towards Heaven reminding me of my grandmother’s plentiful jar and how she taught me how to sew a button.

Letting go is tough as spitting nails, yet so liberating.  As I began to let go, I learned to lose many, many things only to discover my true self.  Didn’t Jesus let go of everything for all humanity?  Can we not do the same–of letting go of a bad past, whatever the situation,  to thank Him?

My letting go was like pitching a snowball–and I cannot throw–to joyfully picking daffodils.  Simply love creates abundant space for anyone to behold God’s beauty of light and peace.  May this gift of letting go be your own bliss.

Like Mia’s happy mademoiselle, now, that’s all I love to do!

Thank you for visiting your scribe for love, truth and peace

PEACE: THE WAY FORWARD

What might a recipe for peace entail in 2018?

Might it be, by acknowledging the hurts of others before one’s own pain?  Possibly.

Might it be, by first forgiving others after addressing our own faults?  Perhaps.

Might it be, by seeking our enemies and doing some good for them?  Maybe.

Might it be, by sprinkling compassion on the mix that we might create an aura of peace?  Hopefully.

The Desert Fathers and hermit followers possessed this recipe for peace which seems simple enough.  However, the world is a needy place and has lost its virtuous compass.  The world has always been Satan’s playground and he knows his end is nearing.

starry-night2

Having frolicked in this place  where Vincent van Gogh painted ‘The Starry Night,’ I find no peace in his deep purplish blues and vibrant swirling strokes which are like shooting stars reflecting the darkest crosses of his 26 years of life.  Despite that, van Gogh was able to paint the most beautiful and serene images of Provence.  That is what I admire most about him.  In fact, any of his paintings can draw me to a storytelling from my youthful experiences there, so as I gaze into this dreadful ‘starry night’ scene, I gratefully remember the beauty and peace of my childhood.

This is a kind of peace the world yearns for now.

As world people completing the trek through the desert of existence, Grace, Mercy and Peace are promises waiting for us…and there is still time for Peace to be achieved.

Thank you for visiting your scribe for love, truth and peace

JOYEUX NOEL

REFLECTIONS FROM MY PROVENCAL CRECHE

Imagine my girlish eyes gazing upon a gurgling brook streaming down the French Alps.  I am thoroughly refreshed by sipping the pure icy water and marvel that my childhood is a grace moment from God who formed my destiny into the earthly space I occupy.  Growing up in a loving, adventurous French-American family, it was easy to embrace the best of both culture and traveling all of Europe.  This springboard was my first place to own propelling me to an unexpected adult life.

Psalm 24 asks: “Who shall climb the mountain of the Lord?”  I WILL, dear Lord, now fledgling, becoming a mother within a bad marriage.  I had no choice but to climb the mountain of abuse ending in divorce to grapple for freedom and peace or else I would die!  God’s fingers still invisible to me stopped my drowning — this is my second place to own because it was full of miracles and my conversion.

Psalm 24 continues in asking: “Who will stand in His holy place?”  I WILL, dear Lord for you branded my heart to be your ‘daughter of Jerusalem,’ happily remarried 33 years strong, surrounded by holy friendships and writing a daily blog of thanksgiving…now this is my current place to own and give my utmost joy to share God’s goodness with everyone until my last breath.

o  glorious reflections from  my Provencal creche!

I sincerely wish all of you a very Merry Christmas

your scribe for love

SILVER LINING

‘Pieta’ by Michelangelo

Short Story

WHAT IS THIS MYSTERY BETWEEN LIFE AND DEATH?

CAN YOU RECALL SUCH INEVITABLE MOMENT WHERE YOU WERE THRUST IN ANGUISH THAT CHURNED YOUR STOMACH UPSIDE DOWN, YET THROUGH IT ALL, YOU CAME OUT VICTORIOUS?

CONTEMPLATING MICHELANGELO’S ‘PIETA’ BRINGS FORTH THIS TELLING STORY BEARING MARY’S LOVING ACCEPTANCE OF HER SON’S DEATH FOR OUR REDEMPTION.

LOSING MY MOTHER WAS HEART-WRENCHING AND DISPOSING OF HER ESTATE WAS EQUALLY UNBEARABLE, TAKING THREE WEEKS OF SORTING 60 YEARS OF MEMORIES.  I BEGAN WITH HER BEDROOM, DRAWING OPEN THOSE GORGEOUS ROSE BROCADE DRAPES BEHIND THE HEADBOARD…I HAD NEVER SEEN THEM OPEN — LO AND BEHOLD ON THE WINDOWSILL WAS A GLISTENING PORCELAIN ‘PIETA.’  RECALLING ALL OF MOTHER’S TRAGEDIES, INSTANTLY, I GAINED GREAT COMFORT TO SEE THAT MARY’S ‘PIETA’ HAD BEEN PRESENT HER ENTIRE LIFE.

MOVING FROM ROOM TO ROOM, FROM DRAWERS TO CLOSETS, I DISCOVERED MY SCHOOL REPORT CARDS, LOVE NOTES I HAD WRITTEN HER, EVEN MY INTERNATIONAL COLLECTION OF DOLLS AND SO MUCH MORE.  YOU SEE, MOTHER WAS VERY PRIVATE WITH HER THOUGHTS, BUT WHILE MY STOMACH WAS CHURNING WITH GRIEF, SHE HAD LEFT ME MANY TREASURE TRAILS OF HER LOVE FOR ME.

MOTHER’S ‘PIETA’ NOW GRACES MY BEDROOM WINDOW LEDGE, AND BEFORE I FALL ASLEEP, I CARESS HER WITH FOND RECOLLECTION OF MY DEAR MAMAN DENYSE.  THIS PORCELAIN WONDER WILL BE PASSED ALONG TO CHRISTOPHER, MY SON, FOR HIS MOMENT OF MYSTERY BETWEEN LIFE AND DEATH.

THANKS TO MICHELANGELO’S MAGNIFICENT SCULPTURE, MARY’S ‘PIETA’ WILL ACCOMPANY EACH OF US AT OUR JUNCTURE BETWEEN LIFE AND DEATH.

LIKE MOTHER ANGELICA ONCE SAID, “BUTTERFLIES IN THE STOMACH DON’T HURT, JUST DON’T LET THEM GO TO THE HEAD.”

your scribe for love

NEVER STOP DREAMING

Aswan on the Nile River, Egypt

A Short Story

Leaping out of bed like a gazelle, this dream fresh in my mind unfolds thusly:

My eyes capture an infinite scroll as if searching for my ancestors, when my dear grandmother Mame’ Jeanne appears in radiant peace.  I let her know how much I’ve missed her, she nods saying, “when you finish writing all of your stories, then will I be waiting for you and we will all be together.”

What an awesome way to start a new day!

Dreams are mysteriously important, don’t you agree?

Eleanor Roosevelt concurred when she spoke:

“The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams.”

Wishing you sweet dreams — your scribe for love

ALEXANDRIA

ALL THINGS ANGELS

Concluding Angel Short Stories

I beckon Alexandria’s guidance for almost everything in my life…especially in one instance she did not fail me…

April 10, 2010…Driving home from work, placing the rosary in my pocket, impacted by a dreadful screeching sound, I saw my car rising into air simultaneously hearing a sweet voice saying, “Patricia, let’s just do this together.”  I echoed a mental “yes” as the car spun once, twice, but at third spin I could no longer hold the steering wheel…forging into this space, the car traveled on the roof’s edge, metal scraping down the highway for what seemed to be eternal, gravity finally flipped the car onto the pavement, wheels still spinning, I found myself hanging upside down in this pure grace of silence…musing…I am still alive!  Alexandria, you did this for me?

The young man pulling me out of the wreck had run a stop sign, repeating, “I’m so sorry, please forgive me..I nodded yes.  The next voice, a paramedic, said, “young lady, you are very lucky today.”  Smiling back at him, “no luck, sir, it was my guardian angel Alexandria who saved me…she always places God before my eyes and reach!

Thank You, God!  Angels do protect us from harm and evil.

your scribe for love