A meditation with Mother Mary
I sit by the window and watch the fog slumber in. Its thickness absorbs tall trees and tumbles over the roof tops of our house-lined street. Cool air from the east, bellows through the curtain, adding animation to nature’s dance.
As I sit, and write by the window’s edge, I breathe deeply. The sweet, pungent smell of the rambling roses, whose vines travel wildly though the wooded land next to ours, is intoxicating. It mixes with the scent of melting candle wax, from Our Lady, a devotional offering I made merely an hour ago. In the background, angelic hymns fill the space I keep. I close my eyes and linger in the senses of the divine.
She reveals herself to me—in these soft, potent ways. She calls to me and asks me to remember. She is ever present—even through the fog, she is here.
Go within and you will find me…I reside in the sanctuary of your heart. As I lay these roses down upon your altar, I feel your devotion. Let the candle that burns signify the light that exists in the dark—Trust in me. Trust in the softness of US—in our union of ONE. Tuck into the folds of my mantel. You are my Beloved.
Remember me. Find me in the darkness as I illuminate the shadows. We weave the sacred threads in divine collaboration. My arms grow heavy with blossoms as I pull the vines free. Our hands carry them forward, braiding the thick and the thin, The weathered and the new, the light and the dark, until they become unified into a circle of life.
Bow now, my Beloved, and receive. Bow now, and allow me to place this crown upon you. Rise from your slumber and remember the truth of the crown you wear.
I open my eyes and peer out my window. The fog continues to collect, leaving deposits of haze into unknown pockets. I see her in the white-gray mist. She resides beyond what my eyes can see. I embrace the comfort of her robes and feel her warmth envelope me.
Thank you, dearest Mother, for calling me back into your bosom. For crowning me over, and over, and over again.
How often, I forget. How often, I need to remember. The infinite love you carry. The infinite love you have for us all.
Nicole Hendrick Donovan, June 22, 2020