I have reached the 3/4 mark with the manuscript of meditations and I find myself growing frustrated. Writing has become more difficult because of my illness. I sit and stare at the screen feeling utterly snowbound within my mind. The words just refuse to come. This has me fearing I will not finish the manuscript.
Despite my fears, however, I shall continue to work. In the echoing silence from Dea, I am striving to keep in mind that She is still present. I ache for Her to speak to me. I fear that I have some how failed to please Her or that I have angered her. Then I breathe and remind myself:
For She has not forsaken you, neither are Her eyes filled with anger. And Her hands that have shattered the gates of Hell shall not harm you; that have broken Hell's foundation shall be lain on you in gentleness.I make a point of repeating the prayer I learned from Dame Julian of Norwich:
On Our Mother's Love, Verses 4 & 5, The Gospel of Our Mother God
All shall be well, and all shall be well and all manner of thing shall be well.