A Note To Carry In Your Pocket


*This is a painting by popular artist Reggie Sultan
Title: Aboriginal People Sitting Around Campfire

I knew it would happen someday. Sitting around the fire with the dead come back to life. Celebrating the reunion as if sickness had not struck our family like a lightning bolt in slow motion. From now on it would be different! God had resurrected the dead and now what a tale they would have to tell. What emanated from the fire was not heat but love so strong I wept. If I didn’t stop, the fire would be in danger of being put out.

There was something different, though. We had no power of speech. Everything was instantly felt, or perceived. The knowing was so clear that we had become One. I don’t have to tell you how perfect it all was. The faces around the fire with me were a blend of past, present and future, for Time had been restored to its default setting—eternity. Not only that, but all sins had been forgiven. I knew this because I had become the Knowing.

The silence was alive and perpetual, as was the love. It’s not that there were no deer or trees in the forest where we gathered; we just knew they were one with the cosmos. The dance of Everything created what it needed in each moment.

I had my family back! The youngest had left when she was seven and I had carried a grief in my heart so deep it could not be conveyed. Now she was right there holding my hand. Not only that, she had angels banked around her like clouds. And my husband was not dead but young and healthy. As we gazed into each other’s eyes, we were inhaling the ecstasy of pure bliss. This caused us to rise above the ground with each inhale. We would come gently down on the exhale and smile at the scene of this blessed reunion. Our joy had been made full.

Our son, who had suffered the loss of his sister and father, now was the happiest of us all. For his journey had been severe. He had been cast into darkness time and time again as he struggled to move forward in his life. Now he was seeing through the eyes of self-unity. I could see he was the strongest in the family. How could I have missed that before the Reunion? How did I know it now? This was not hard; the love and healing emanating from him was the biggest wave of all. A rabbit ran past the camp fire; it was clearly wounded. My son gazed upon it and immediately, the rabbit was healed. Such love penetrates the deepest sins.

If you want to know how to get to the this reunion, the directions are not complicated. Look within. The dead have been waiting to be reborn to sit around your heart’s fire. Not only that, the dead parts of you will be brought back to life. I tell you, this love has its own unfolding story to tell. Sublime is the spirit that returns whole to a broken world. Sublime.

Vicki Woodyard

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