As the European Godwriting™ workshops are coming up, personal spiritual journeys are in the air. Heaven Admin and I send out the thoughtful questions to all who sign up for a workshop, and I find my attention on my spiritual journey, and just now, I remembered something I've forgotten about for a long long time.
I don't know if I included this in the story of Heavenletters that appears on the web site. It's possible I did, but I sure haven't thought of this for a long time. It seems like forever. [Note, by the way, that, if you want the whole story of Heavenletters, you have to read all the versions that appear on the website, for each version comes from its own angle.]
The something else that I remembered is in response to the first question: What in your childhood might have led to your great spiritual adventure now?
Just now I was reviewing a Heavenletter that will go out in about two weeks. It is named Love When the Great Ones Roamed the Earth. There was one line in the Heavenletter that reminded me of this particular time in my life when I was a senior in high school.
I was literary editor of the yearbook. There was always a theme for the yearbook. I don't remember the name of the yearbook, but I remember the quotation I chose for the theme. I don't remember a single other thing I did as literary editor. Maybe nothing, for all I know.
If it had not been for the Bible's being read for five minutes in the morning before school every day, I would never have heard this quotation, and, certainly, couldn't have suggested it as the theme of the yearbook. This was so long ago that I will mention as an aside, that, back then, using the shortened word quote was frowned on, and, so, as I write this and remember, I find myself having to say that the quotation, not quote, was: "Let your light so shine before men."
And isn't God in Heavenletters™ saying this a thousand times in a thousand different ways?
Somehow those words from the Bible had stuck with me, or, perhaps, my homeroom teacher had read them out loud that very morning. I have no idea.
And it wasn't until my age was more than doubled that it began to dawn on me that I was a spiritual being. Maybe I never even knew the word spiritual. Maybe it was never used then. Maybe the relevant words used then were religious or unbelieving, neither of which applied to me.
At the time of that long-forgotten afternoon, I just somehow remembered that quotation, and I liked it very much.
I can't help wondering now why no one at the time ever pointed out to me that I was a spiritual being. Not one teacher. Not one friend. Not my mother or father or anyone in my family. No one.
You might wonder why my parents hadn't said something. Maybe they didn't know the word spiritual either. But, also, they probably never knew that I had anything to do with the yearbook, they never saw the quotation, they never knew their daughter had chosen one.
That's just how it was back then in my house. School was left to me. It was the world I lived in, and the Rose Market was the world my parents lived in. It is likely that in general, parents back then didn't oversee their children's school work, at least to the degree that parents seem to do today and are encouraged to do. But that is another story.
In any case, it was a good thing that I was on my own in those days. I would have found it intolerable to be told to do my homework and such. As it was, no one had to tell me.
There is one more thing I will tell you about concerning the importance of quotations to me. I'll do it tomorrow.