When the dust settles

It'd been years since I opened it. My study Bible.
This particular version was called the Mother's Bible and while it reads like any normal  KJV  Bible, there are little anecdotes tucked in here and there to give us poor mother's a lift, so to speak.
I'd put it into my Bible study tote bag more than two years ago and hadn't touched it since.
When I pulled it out of the tote, I was genuinely surprised to see such a thick coating of dust. I couldn't even blow it off...I tried.
How long had it been since I'd used it? I wondered. I honestly couldn't recall.
Now, mind you, I have other versions of the Bible (with The Message being my favorite), but I quickly realized that I hadn't opened any of them either.
Not in a really long time.

It was my most highlighted Bible, the one I used to read religiously (no pun intended) everyday.
It's the Bible that I used to Keep Me In The Word, you know, like-
"All I need is Coffee and Jesus".
It was the Bible I used when I  needed a scripture that resonated with me, then I would go outside  with my camera and find something in nature that resonated the same way.
I thought that was going to be my calling, the thing that was going to save me and give me purpose.
Making framed photo art with a lovely piece of scripture imprinted across the bottom.
I made a few pieces then quit.
It was harder than it looked and I didn't have the right printer to make it look professional.

God used to show Himself to me all the time through nature.
He was everywhere and I saw Him and/or His essence everywhere I looked.
I couldn't not see Him or hear Him or sense Him. Everything about me was attuned to Him.

The breeze became His caress against my face. The rain His tears. Singing birds were His voice.
The colors in the sunrise He put there just for me. The scent of flowers and Pine trees and strawberries became His cologne.
I watched Bees washing their antenna in my birdbath and knew He had told them to show me this. Look!
Cloud patterns became the way He communicated to me.
All I had to do was look up.
I saw Him in my newborn grandchildrens eyes. I smelled him in the fur at my dogs neck.
I could taste Him in a ripe juicy Pear or a perfectly grilled steak.
I gave Him thanks and praise for soap bubbles in my sink and the electricity flowing through the wires of my house. I've written down in journals countless things that I am grateful for.
I went to church every Sunday and listened raptly as our pastor told story after story about the goodness of Jesus H. Christ and the life I deserved as His follower.
Worship music became the only thing I listened to and all of the lyrics seemed directed towards me.
I stood in church with my hands raised to the heavens, waiting for Gods love to rain down on me.
Until I realized that the humming was gone and it was silent. Until He stopped showing up.
I can't say when or where but I have noticed that His particular brand of ether isn't in the air that surrounds me anymore. I no longer sense Him near by.
I still smell flowers and pine trees and strawberries, I still see bees happily buzzing around my gardens with their legs full of pollen, and ripe pears and grilled steak are still quite tasty.
But the hum of Him in my veins is gone and  miss it. I miss Him.

In Alanon they call this kind of phenomenon Falling Off The Pink Cloud.

Last week I dusted off that Bible after my sister and I decided to restart our
Thursday morning Bible Study. Her and I are going to try Coffee and Jesus again.
I'm hoping that getting back into "The Word" will help me find that ether that I miss so much.
I'm not putting any pressure on myself though, or Him either for that matter.
If there's one thing I know about Jesus is that He shows up when He shows up.
And it's always at the exact right time.
Here's hoping that all of you are doing well.

Thanks for reading,
Love, Lolly


P.S. I hate that mutherfuker DJT and I think Jesus does too. Sorry not sorry.