Guest Post by Gloria Lionz
Seasons hold places in ones’ being; as do the markers we humans call ‘time.’ Though we’re eternal beings, as one who loves life and does all she can to serve it with tenderness and compassion, writing poetry is one of the most visceral ways my heart has learned to express those feelings.
Guest Post by Bob Switzer
An acquaintance named Timothy shared with me his experience of losing his wife to cancer and his journey into spiritual healing. A turning point came when he received a message from beyond. I’ll let him tell his story in his own words:
By Michael Avery
Jim Davis and I go back as far as the fifth grade. The tapestries of our lives express similar patterns since we share many of the same colorful threads. In high school, we played basketball together. Jim was a 6’4″ center who was an accomplished rebounder.
Over the years, Jim and I have shared an interest in writing, waking dreams, and spirituality. Jim excels at everything he does, so I wasn’t surprised to hear that he had been experimenting with a music program called Suno ai and was writing songs. What did surprise me, however, was the quality of the song he sent us. It was not only good, it was one of the best songs I had ever heard! With Jim’s permission we have embedded “Just Be Love” in this post below.
By Michael Avery
When memories of water skiing come to mind, they generally evoke feelings of fun, freedom, and ninety degree days, but not always. My fondest boating memories are from the time Eldon, a friend from the plywood mill where I worked, taught me how to slalom ski. I learned a lot about water skiing from Eldon, and a little about sacrifice. The latter proved invaluable.
Guest Post by Dennis Ernst
It’s early morning and just beginning to get light when I go for a memorable walk. Recent rain has turned the mesquite savanna desert into a lush green paradise. Grass, weeds and wildflower are waist high and big clumps of cane grass as tall as corn. The air and a rich earthy smell infused with the intoxicating scent of the wildflower and each breath is like candy.
Guest Post by Anna Finch
Recently, I was grieving the loss of my beloved friend, Jen, and asked God if I could see her again in my dreams. Could I get a hug from her there? Jen gave the best hugs. She was a kind friend who helped me in a very difficult time of my life. Her passing came unexpectedly, and it was a shock for me and so many others who loved her big and loving heart.
By Pichaya Avery
“Soul exists because God loves it.”
The Shariyat-Ki-Sugmad Book 1, p. 120
Every day, my husband, Mike, and I open a book at random during our morning contemplation. We usually alternate between Spiritual Exercises for the Shariyat book One and book Two. One of the exercises suggested focusing on Divine Love, and we asked our Inner Teacher, “How can we love you more?”
Later that cold and rainy morning, Divine Spirit sent us some unexpected visitors to show us how to expand our capacity to love.
Guest Post by Vicki Rose
I have been excitedly waiting 3 months for this day and it finally arrived! It was November 5, 2018, and I was in the bustling Miami airport, at the gate, about to board a fully booked flight to exotic Havana, Cuba, to visit for 30 days. The majority of passengers were beautiful Latino people of all skin tones, colorfully attired, kids in tow and speaking crazy fast Cuban Spanish.
By Michael Avery
“If you tell a rose that it is a rose, then it will always be a rose.
If you ask a rose what it is, you might be surprised to find
that it is an entire universe.” —Gary Reynolds
(quoting “the Caretaker” in Spiritual Adventures at the seat of Power)
Originally, I planned to call this post “Divine Guidance: When Books Take Flight.” But I fell in love with the golden rose featured above and the quote from Gary Reynolds’ free ebook.
By Michael Avery, as told by Sharon Sheppard
Sharon Sheppard’s husband, Pat, takes their Siberian Husky for walks every morning and late afternoon either to a wooded area or along the rolling sand dunes and sparsely populated beaches near their home on the Oregon coast. Pat enjoys contemplating and singing HU, an ancient love song to God, as Sitka runs through the woods or along the beach. One day, their normal routine was interrupted when Pat spied a murre bird lying motionless at the tideline.
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