To Mama, With Love

She lay in her bed, suspended between wakefulness and rest. A friend had once told her that everything we project through our senses while awake inspires what we project in our dreams or, more precisely, in the realm of the spirit. So this time, she spoke the words aloud and let herself drift.

I have fulfilled my divine purpose and calling.

I am known as the girl who loves Jesus.

She spoke them in the accomplished tense, as though they were already written into reality. There was confidence in her voice that it would be so one hundred percent. And then, in a fleeting moment, she was no longer here.

She saw herself moving through space. A vast greyish-black expanse stretched endlessly around her. Was there a sound? She could not recall. But that was not all. All around her were millions of stars, alive, shining with astonishing brilliance. Each star was surrounded by a glowing, hazy light. She thought it impossible to capture them on a painting canvas. The closest anyone could try would be to paint them like bokeh lights, soft and radiant, suspended in that stark and contrasting darkness.

As she gazed at them in awe she became aware of a voice, because "heard" would not be quite the right word to convey it. It was as though an unseen Interpreter made her understand that these were not stars at all, but these are hosts of angels of the Most High.

She wondered agape at the beauty of the spectacle before her. Shining brighter were a million stars and it felt unbelievable, and yet entirely believable at the same time. That was when she realized she was flying.

Yes, flying through that vast expanse. She leaned into the moment. It had been a while since she had flown. When was the last time? She could not remember, and she did not want to. In that instant, she only wanted to live in the present, to neither look back nor ahead, but to seize what was unfolding. To fly among angels aflame with glory, what more could she wish for? What words could she use from the shelves of learning acquired over the years to explain it?

So she opened her arms wide. Her thoughts guiding her every movement. She accelerated, and suddenly wooho, she was speeding through the hosts of glory all around her. Flying was the thing she loved most of all. There was no wind, or perhaps no such thing as wind in that never ending outer space, yet the speed itself was tangible making the experience utterly unforgettable.

The endless expanse of space slowly gave way to drifting daytime clouds, and then again to the deep darkness of night. She alighted on the roof of her home from among the radiant host of angels of the Most High still resounding their song of joy and peace that had heralded the Lord’s birth. To her surprise, on her roof lay the manger where the Lord had been born.

Mary was there, and the sweet baby Jesus rested in the open night, calm yet cold. She sensed the presence of others around them, but her memory couldn't recall any of them. They remained as hazy shapes, quiet presences, and in her heart the moment remained solely of a mother and her Son.

Her thoughts turned to her own baby, barely two months young, waiting back in her room just two storeys below. She thought of how carefully she tended him, how instinctively she protected him. And to see baby Jesus exposed to the chill of the night, no! It could not be. It should not be. So she stretched out her hands, and when Mary with her gentle gaze granting her permission of her Baby, she took Him from the manger and held him close to the warmth of her bosom. As she held Him tightly, her conscience opened to the voice of the Great Interpreter. 

She had often felt as if she were missing out on God’s purpose and calling for her. God had entrusted her with the sacred role of a mother, a role she often feared she might fail to fulfill perfectly. She thanked the Interpreter, finding deep solace in knowing that her restless search for purpose elsewhere had only drained her strength, when all along her calling for a time as this was already in her arms. To tend to her own "baby Jesus" at home, her suckling babe, entrusted to her care. The knowledge that God had faith in her, and the reminder that her love for her child mirrors the love she held for her Savior, filled her with strength, steadying both her heart and her mind.