Life is like a path …

angel lettersLife is like a path, and we all have to walk the path. If we lay down, we can lay down on the path. If we live through the night, we have to get up and start walking down the path again. As we walk down that path we’ll find experiences like little scraps of paper in front of us along the way. We must pick up these pieces of scrap paper and put them in our pockets . . .  Then, one day, we will have enough scraps of papers to put together and see what they say. Maybe we’ll have enough to make some sense. . . . Read … then put the pieces back in that pocket and go on, because there will be more pieces to pick up.  –U.F.D., Pawnee

A Fragile Hope

angel lettersWe come now to the end of these accounts, the fallen leaves drifting on the waters of our mind, the angel’s letters that have come—and are gone as instantly—like whispers. Were they really there? How is it we have nothing now to show for them except a sense of grace, a fragile hope, the knowledge of our unity, and a sweet shiver passing over us, all because these letters, beckoning us to higher states, carry the signature of God?

We are loved

angel lettersOftentimes after I’ve put my daughter to bed and done the dishes and picked up, I will look at the stars at night, just to unwind and to realized there really is a big world out there.
This particular day I had put my daughter to bed in the early evening. It was still light out. I walked into the other bedroom and knelt down by the window to look out at the woods, which I love. This is truly one of the strangest experiences I’ve had since becoming (and I was not thinking about anything in particular), I felt as if every living item in the woods, particularly the leaves on the trees, all “breathed” in unison. At the same time there was an incredibly strong pull in my gut or stomach that moved (or breathed) in unison with the leaves, and it was involuntary on my part. It was like a surrender, as if a power much stronger than I flowed through me and nature at the exact same moment. We were unified, as if there was a purpose and meaning to every living thing. I felt so humbled, my head dropped down and I cried. It was a very beautiful, very humbling, very unusual experience for me. I don’t know why or how this happened: it only made me realize the vast power and potential and purpose of all living things.
I can’t say I would understand if someone described this to me. All I know is it happened, and I think we’re all here for a purpose and God loves all his children.  –N.