history

36. THIS IS NOT MY GOD

In the summer of 2002 as our eldest prepared for college, our daughter prepared to enter high school. She had some heavy reading assignments for her honors English class. Fortunately, our eldest was an avid reader of the classics so we had the books she needed. One on Greek and Roman mythology and the other, a King James version of the Bible.

And Jarys had read them both as well the Wiccan handbook, books on Native American spirituality, books on Buddhism, Islam and Judaism, interpretations of the Dead Sea Scrolls, well, pretty much all the theological books in our library.
Unlike her sibling, Kyra was not much of a reader, but she had no trouble with the mythology. Yet halfway through the book of Genesis, she stated, “This is not my God!”

“What do you mean?” I asked, serving dinner.

“The god in this book is a very mean and judgmental god. I like the Greek gods better.”

Jarys tried to explain that the reason her teacher had assigned this reading material is that these works have greatly influenced western civilization.

“No one believes in the Greek and Roman gods anymore, but who believes in this god?” She held up the bible.

“Christians and the part you’re reading is also in the Jewish scriptures.” Her sibling explained. “Just think of it as a story book. At the end of the Christian version, there’s a tragic hero.”

“What happens?”

“He’s killed.”

Now she was getting upset. “That’s how this ends? I hate stories with sad endings.

“Oh, there’s a sequel. He’s supposed to come back and save all the people who believe in him.”

“Come back. You mean reincarnated?”

Jarys laughed. “Oh no, there’s no reincarnation in that book. That’s Buddhism and Hinduism.”

She shook her head sadly, “I don’t get it. Why are there so many religions?”

“Because there are so many different cultures and each has a different way to explain life and death.”

She nodded. “You’re going to make a good teacher, Jarys.”

“Thanks.” They said and buried their head in a book.

2 Remembering Mary Magdalen: In the Muse

The sacred feminine is not lost, nor is she forgotten.

She has been veiled by history.

Time to unveil HERStory.

My journey into the consciousness of Mary Magdalen continues…

Sept 17^th, 2003 Overwhelmed, giddy from the experience of writing the first chapter, I felt like I was not revealing a memory but living in the moment. I could smell the odors, see the colors and textures, feel the wind, the linen, the touch of his hand. I am being transformed and once again as I sit here to type, the front door blows in, the wind chimes sing, the birds chitter rapidly. A presence is here again which guides me.

Sept 18^th, 2003 What a revelation—on my son’s twentieth birthday no less! I awoke before dawn to liquid purple teardrops slipping through my consciousness. The purple is what I see when I meditate and lately has been calling me to be still. This time I associated the purple with Yeshua and we talked like lovers, old friends, companions. I am clearer now on the multidimensional nature of reality. Yeshua described how he can be here with me as Deborah incarnate on this earth, and alive and well in my past life memory. It is all NOW. There is no time. The entity of Jesus Christ was not the man—Yeshua. “You must present us as the human beings we were, I was a man first.” I asked why he doesn’t come in like this to comfort me, like with my suffering over finances. He said I could be so silly, that the security situation was being taken care of, as T…Steve pointed out, always grounding me. I got the immediate vision that my husband was Teoma. Steve had taken many lifetimes to be with me in this way, always before protecting the bloodline. Then Yeshua spoke fondly of my daughter, Kyra is so beautiful, “I miss her”…

Sept 19^th, 2003 So much comes in with Yeshua more deeply entwined in my life. Sometimes we are merged, most of the time we hold very human conversations, and more often his energetic presence is bordering on the physical. I feel rushed, excited, frustrated. The rest of the historical details coming in pieces, I strove for clarity in a text book all the while getting more confused as the dates seemed wrong. I could hear Yeshua advising me to put it down and just write. It’s so interesting that when I relax, the verse just flows in present tense, all my senses are attuned to the writing as I taste, smell, feel the experience. As I become more distracted and nervous about the content, I distance myself unconsciously by writing in the past tense.

Mary Magdalen: What’s HERstory?

There’s History, then there’s HERstory…

What happened to the sacred feminine perspective? History has been recorded by men (or if by the rare feminine hand under a masculine penname) for the written word is power and men fear to give it up. Historians provide a rough framework, a timeline of political events highlighting the wars over land, the uprising of kings, a record of mankind—HISstory.

But where’s HERstory? The passionate details of ancient life, the chalice which held the blood of the people? Where are the women and children, the celebrations of life? The hard metal tools man made survived, yet the softness of women eroded with time.

Women have kept alive HERstory through song and dance. Watch the delicate movements of the bellydancer’s hands, she is telling a story only her sisters recognize. The sacred feminine is not lost, nor is she forgotten. She has been veiled by history.

My debut novel LoveDance: Awakening the Divine Daughter unveils the passion of Mary Magdalen with intimate details of Mary’s life with the women in the chamam, of her travels with zealots through volatile Roman Palestine, and of her secrets shared with Yeshua in the bridal chambers.

LoveDance is HERstory.