I remember asking my Mother once why we never went to church. “Now is not the time,” she smiled, speaking with softened voice. “Someday, you’ll understand. Until then, just remember — God is everywhere, even here.” She reached down and pointed to my heart.

I must have been just four years old, at the time — and yet, I can still remember with great depth of clarity how her words forever changed my world.

From that moment on, I knew He was always there — in the softer notes of Chopin’s Nocturne No. 2, against the stretched moss and slickened river rock, through the paling of night into day. I saw glimpses of God in all living things, and realized my connection to all.

My father didn’t speak much of the war, though we always knew. It wasn’t until many years later when he finally shared to me the story of his first night under heavy fire. He described his dear friend from home emerging from their foxhole for ‘something, still to this day – I don’t know.’

“His body fell just inches out of reach, there was nothing I could do,” his voice trailed off. “And, all for what?”

For years, I’d assumed it was this image of his dying friend, an irreconcilable guilt, which kept my father from the church. Though, it wasn’t until later that I finally realized — he simply wanted us to know a love for others that transcended all other boundaries.

In our home, all were welcome. In our hearts, there was room enough for all.

“Someday, you’ll understand,” she smiled. How gracious that I may live my life each day through these words.

No matter our beliefs, whatever the term, my dearest darlings ~ we are united by a much higher love.

One that exists within all living beings; one which serves to connect us all.

In peace, namaste my loves ~ ❤️