The Birds and The Beads

 I have recently retired. It has taken me awhile to grow into the Grace of what this means. To retire is to step back and to step forward. It can be a place of rest and tender movement. Like a Mercy. Guiding me to walk in new found Faith. Moving in Trust. Making the pilgrimage into freshly anointed spaces.

There have been two droughts in my life as of late. One was the physical lack of rain. One was the spiritual lack of assurances I had grown accustomed to. 

My Father left this earth not long ago. And my Mother not long after.  My Father had become a master of sending me messages to guide me and uplift me and assure me of his presence. But there had been no word from him for so long. And only an echo chamber of my own voice falling back on me when I called out to my Mother.

I decided to assign myself two daily jobs of steady work. One would be to “work the beads” and the other would be to feed the birds who’d struggled through the drought.

On my prayer beads I would speak. And I would listen.

I would infuse each bead with prayers for loved ones. Prayers for the suffering. Prayers for the weary world. And prayers of surrender into silence.

On the celebration of the solstice I wanted to be deep in bead work. I wanted to let go as needed. Release as guided. And accept the new assignments and blessings of the day. I wanted to surrender all that blocked the light of the long time Sun.

While holding a bead of silence, my Father appeared.

We did not need words. We were held in Reunion. There was no need to speak.

He then glanced to the side of my minds inner eye, to show me my Mother.  She was safely held in the Spiritual ICU in the Realms of Loving Care. She could not yet send word, because she could not yet let go.

He asked me to give her a blessing from my heart. To fully release her and give her permission to fly. I hadn’t realized that I had tied her to my wrist. Like a childhood balloon. She just needed the Grace of being set free into further becoming. He assured me that letting go means letting Be. And that free birds will fly their way back into arms that no longer grasp.

Feeding the birds in my yard means that all are invited. The robins, the rabbits, the squirrels and the crows. The crows have a unique way of receiving daily bread. They take it to the water and dip it prior to feeding. It’s like witnessing a baptism and communion before breakfast.  They release before they are filled. They’ve  taught me, like my Father, that by casting my cherished breadcrumbs to the water, and humbly letting go of what I can not hold, baskets of bread soon appear in my arms . No longer baskets of need, but of seed, strong enough to grow bread that will feed .