God gave me life, again. I knew that I needed to receive it differently this time… more intentionally, more generously and more honestly. I wanted, this time around, to live gratefully. Anything less than to thank God with every breath and every word seemed inadequate.  I needed to wholeheartedly acknowledge His bountiful gifts and those who so generously delivered them. So many people brought the fruits of their labor to the table and the strings of their hearts to the stage. This happened through a carefully woven tapestry of miracles, one beautiful offering at a time. I wanted to answer this call to life, but didn’t know how, where or when to start. So I just asked: “Oh, that You would bless me indeed and enlarge my territory.” 

What was I to do with this second gift of life? How could I possibly honor this infusion of blood and promise of a new day? Knowing that this truly was the day that the Lord had made, how would I rejoice and be glad in it? I began to pray the words of a one-sentence prayer.

With a new-found intention, I continued in my old ways. The rhythm of my life was good and sweet, but luke-warm and convenient.  My faith was a “big faith” that I drew on when faced with big issues that called for candles, mantras and prayers. I believed. However my big faith didn’t translate to the many little moments that make up each day.  What I needed was “pocket faith,” … that I could reach for every day. And so, I waited.

I lived my life, loved my family, walked with friends and counseled clients. I prayed, attended workshops and visited healers. My feet were pointed in the right direction which I know sometimes is the best we can do while we wait… for Guidance.

Typically I do the right thing for the wrong reasons. My visit to see a healer was no exception. I wasn’t sure why I made the appointment. I met with Jerry Wills nine months earlier after being diagnosed with a rare blood disorder. My previous visit had a clear purpose: To be physically healed. But this time my blood was normal, I felt great and life was good.

Jerry met me in the foyer of Holly’s house and within minutes we were speaking of angels. He began to share a detailed account of his anointment. Five minutes and seven angels into it he suggested that we sit down. We eagerly listened to his story of transcendence, golden hands and angel wings. We were moved into a silent but nodding trance. He confided that he hadn’t told his story in over ten years. He had been advised against it. Why now, I thought, why us? I sat in awe with the wide eyes and wonderment of a child, not yet realizing that this story of wings was exactly why I came and that very soon another story of wings would become my own. It would take 52 hours and ten minutes before I knew.

Two days later following an argument with my husband, Chuck, I lay down on our bed to sulk. My mind raced with reasons why I was right and he was wrong. I was exhausting myself with this familiar litany. I became so uncomfortable on my back that I shifted around trying in vain to stay focused on my rightness. And then I heard it. The words were intrusive, loud and clear. They repeated in my mind like a chant and sprung me into action like a gong. The words kept coming:  If I had wings; if I had wings; if I had wings.

So what if I had wings, I thought, I’m trying to stay angry with my husband here. After wiggling around a bit more, I gave into the relentless mantra playing in my head and answered: OK. If I had wings I would pick up my blackberry and text an apology to my husband. If I had wings I would rise above my carefully concocted truth and think for a moment what was going on with him. If I had wings I would not be lying on my back crushing them below me. If I had wings I would rise above this situation and see us both through a filter of love. If I had wings, or even pretended to, I would answer God’s call with every breath and every word. I would jump up and promise, with all my heart and all my soul. But what would I promise?

I picked up my Blackberry to text an apology to Chuck. He had texted me first: “Do you have any forgiveness left?” I began to respond, “Yes, but I don’t need it because I was….” His call beeped in before my admission was complete. The vision of my white flag somehow made its way to Chuck because truth was in motion and love was in the air.  All good things unfolded naturally from there, replacing anger and fear, projection and blame. Distress receded as joy rushed in, lifting us up to a better and more peaceful place, as if we had wings.

These wings would press on me daily to listen to “Me,” instead of “me.” They would provide an echoing voice of Spirit that would drown out the more familiar voice of Ego. These wings would insist on love instead of fear. They would lovingly convince me of the truth of abundance and persistently deny me the myth of scarcity. These wings would change my life if I should decide to accept them. I would hover above my everyday life and live in love. These wings would be an awesome gift and an awesome responsibility. They promised to Guide me. These wings would require sacrifice and offer salvation. These wings, albeit imagined, were the answer to my question: What was I to do with this second gift of life? The answer rang as true as an Alleluia Chorus:  Live as if I had wings. 

Living with these imagined wings seemed much less intimidating than emulating saints or asking, “What would Jesus do?” These wings seemed strangely down-to-earth since it was me, the real me, they would carry. I would be prodded forward into my best self, always, and encouraged to make corrections in my thinking when it failed the, “If I had wings” test.  Living up to, and growing into, my imagined wings would be like stepping into a grand reputation.  My wings would feel like the hand of God gently nudging me into rightness much like the mother of a small child. I would have to be pleased enough with this process to avoid perfection since as we all know, there’s no perfect in this neighborhood, at least not here on earth.

My “pre-wings” way of living was probably only a few degrees off-course to begin with.  But as I often describe with my “Pipeline” example, it only takes a small degree of error when setting a course to bring about a drastically off-course result. Without my wings, the gap between who I am and the person I yearn to be would only widen. It became clear to me that even a few degrees error in my pursuit of good living would no longer do.  What Maya Angelou said is true, “When we know better, we do better.”  After a life-changing illness, I knew better. My imagined wings would lift me to a place where I could do better.  At last, I had a plan. With every breath and every word, I would say, “Yes,” to my imagined wings.

I would recognize the words of a one-sentence prayer as the wings that lift me to my higher Self and a place where I could flutter… above my life and reframe all its stories through a filter of love. Like scaffolding from the ground up, I would connect countless Slice-of-Love vignettes with 100 Love Lessons to raise us to the 5 lines (and Faith Leaps) of a one-sentence prayer. From this higher vibration, and ZipLine of Love, we would discover how this ordinary prayer could lead us to an extraordinary life with wings.

The Prayer of Jabez

Oh, that You would bless me indeed,
and enlarge my territory,
that your hand would be with me,
and that You would keep me from evil,
that I may not cause pain!

(1 Chronicles 4:10 NKJV)

 If I had wings here on earth I would surely fail to live up to them every day. I would remember that to live with imagined wings is about intention, not perfection. With these stories and lessons, we would light the way for the Prayer of Jabez and it would light the way for us. I would feel the flutter of our wings raising us up together to a higher vibration and purpose for all to join. I would bow my head in gratitude and whisper, “Amen.” If God were to spare me wings in heaven for now, I would be inspired to wear a pretend pair on earth. And so He did.    

  Wings

My heavenly and earthy angels
Your strength in me endures

You loaned me your wings
Until His call I heard

 Wisdom, truth and grace
To me you gladly loaned

 Atop your wings I glided
Until I found my own 

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