I spent some time by the well today – just being with Him.
This morning the water in the cup was wine and tasted sharp. When JC asked me if I didn’t like it, I said that I would get used to it. We had the same conversation about music again and when He said:
Natalie is a bit serious for my taste.”
Says the one who gives me bitter wine to drink!
You’ll get used to it.
He grinned. He told me it was okay if I wanted to go to see Tenderness, but whether he would phone me or we would be together were the questions I musn’t ask. He said that Prince would be okay in the end – He had his mark on him – and that Dance and Song would be safe; they knew they were loved (they got fed up hearing it!) and that that would make them strong. A man came up to get some water from the well and He said:
I’m not ready to go into the world again yet so we stayed there.
My companion gave me the morning when Mary Magdalene finds the empty tomb to meditate on. I found this one the most overwhelming of all. I cried after reading it – before I even got into it. Since it starts with her weeping (me) I thought I’d go with it.
I screamed at the angels:
What have you done with Him? Where is He?
and when Jesus asked what was the matter, I attacked Him! I ran out of the tomb and hammered on His chest, the same words, crying all the time. He took hold of my wrists.
Sunflower, it’s me.
He said tenderly, and then I cried even more.
Where have you been? I thought I’d lost you!
He held me tightly to Him and when I stopped sobbing enough, He led me to one of the green garden benches they have in this retreat place. We sat there and I cried some more. He gave me a tissue and touched my face. He smiled. I kept repeating:
I thought I’d lost you.
and crying. After a bit I told Him the swinging bench was more comfortable. He agreed and we went back there – just sitting and swinging. Sometimes I cried and He would give me a squeeze, but mostly I was okay. After a while He said:
We should talk about what happens when you go back into the world.
I know, but I don’t want to now. Can we do it tomorrow?
But will you be there?
I’ll always be there; I always have been there. Will you let me in?
You’re in. You got in.
More silence; and then He took my hand and said:
Shall we go for a walk?
I complied. We went to the river down near where I lived as a child and He reminded me of when I sat in the tree singing to Him. I wanted to see the horse chestnut my dad planted on my sister’s pony’s grave. It was a huge full grown tree now. He took me down to the small half of the old railway and showed me the rock I had painted the white cross on.
You’ve always been mine. Even when you were a small child.
He reminded me of the day I offered Him my life for my dad’s sobriety, and my first holy communion when I was six; when I told my mum that it was the most important day of my life and she praised me and gave me a hug. He reminded me of when I vowed not to drink and I apologised for the few mouthfuls of wine I tried recently. He asked me if I wanted to be released from my vow and I said I didn’t. He told me not to be angry with my mum – she was doing the best she could with what she had and that even though she didn’t understand the way I practised my faith, she was glad that I did. He told me to tell my dad that I loved him because he needed to hear it. I said:
My dad suffers a lot, doesn’t he?
He said he did, that he went to a dark place where no-one could reach him and that the words that I gave to him were important to him – they meant a lot.
I asked Him to show me where He had been in the last few years. He called me to volunteer for the helpline and through it He sent me Endurance and showed me that I was taking life too seriously. Tenderness was there when I needed him, and being with him had shown me that my marriage was not what He had intended marriage should be. We went back to the swinging bench and sat for a while longer.
It took me quite a while to stop crying after this meditation.
Sunflower left this retreat the next day to spend some time with Tenderness.