etheraiel's blog: "Sebastian's Secret"

1. Your thumb is nearest you. So begin your prayers by praying for those closest to you. They are the easiest to remember. To pray for our loved ones is, as C. S. Lewis once said, a 'sweet duty.' 2. The next finger is the pointing finger. Pray for those who teach, instruct and heal. This includes teachers, doctors, and ministers. They need support and wisdom in pointing others in the right direction. Keep them in your prayers. 3. The next finger is the tallest finger. It reminds us of our leaders. Pray for the president, leaders in business and industry, and administrators. These people shape our nation and guide public opinion. They need God's guidance. 4. The fourth finger is our ring finger. Surprising to many is the fact that this is our weakest finger, as any piano teacher will testify. It should remind us to pray for those who are weak, in trouble or in pain. They need your prayers day and night. You cannot pray too much for them. 5. And lastly comes our little finger - the smallest finger of all which is where we should place ourselves in relation to God and others. As the Bible says, 'The least shall be the greatest among you.' Your pinkie should remind you to pray for yourself. By the time you have prayed for the other four groups, your own needs will be put into proper perspective and you will be able to pray for yourself more effectively. If you decide to send this to a friend, you might brighten someone's day! Pass this on to someone special... I did. Don't tell God how big your storm is, Tell the storm how big your God is!!!!!

SCARS OF LIFE "Love is when God became man." Some years ago, on a hot summer day in south Florida, a little boy decided to go for a swim in the old swimming hole behind his house. In a hurry to dive into the cool water, he ran out the back door, leaving behind shoes, socks, and shirt as he went. He flew into the water, not realizing that as he swam toward the middle of the lake, an alligator was swimming toward the shore. His father, working in the yard, saw the two as they got closer and closer together. In utter fear, he ran toward the water, yelling to his son as loudly as he could. Hearing his voice, the little boy became alarmed and made a U-turn to swim to his father. It was too late. Just as he reached his father, the alligator reached him. From the dock, the father grabbed his little boy by the arms just as the alligator snatched his legs. That began an incredible tug-of-war between the two. The alligator was much stronger than the father, but the father was much too passionate to let go. A farmer happened to drive by, heard his screams, raced from his truck, took aim and shot the alligator. Remarkably, after weeks and weeks in the hospital, the little boy survived His legs were extremely scarred by the vicious attack of the animal. And, on his arms, were deep scratches where his father's fingernails dug into his flesh in his effort to hang on to the son he loved. The newspaper reporter, who interviewed the boy after the trauma, asked if he would show him his scars. The boy lifted his pant legs. And then, with obvious pride, he said to the reporter, "But look at my arms. I have great scars on my arms, too. I have them because my Dad wouldn't let go." You and I can identify with that little boy. We have scars, too. No, not from an alligator, but the scars of a painful past. Some of those scars are unsightly and have caused us deep regret. But some wounds, my friend, are because God has refused to let you go. In the midst of your struggle, He's been there holding on to you. The Scripture teaches that God loves you. You are a child of God. He wants to protect you and provide for you in every way. But sometimes we foolishly wade into dangerous situations, not knowing what lies ahead. The swimming hole of life is filled with peril - and we forget that the enemy is waiting to attack. That's when the tug-of-war begins - and if you have the scars of His love on your arms, be very, very grateful. He did not and will not ever let you go. Please pass this on to those you love. God has blessed you, so that you can be a blessing to others. You just never know where a person is in his/her life and what they are going through. Never judge another person's scars, because you don't know how they got them. Also, it is so im portant that we are not selfish, to receive the blessings of these messages, without forwarding them to someone else. Right now, someone needs to know that God loves them, and you love them, too - enough to not let them go

The Vessel: Mila Speaks It’s just a house you know. Like any other house. On any other street, in any town anywhere in this or any other country. Anywhere in the world, and infact, it has been. You don’t know me but you have seen me. You don’t remember me because I wasn’t a part of your perception of how things are. Or better yet, how things should be in your world. You know, the one you have created in your head but doesn’t resemble reality what so ever? Here we sit in a house or a field of Sun flowers on a bright spring day with a cool breeze blowing to keep us cool. Can you hear the chirping of the birds and the the buzzing of bumble bee wings as they whiz by from flower to flower? Can you smell the fresh dew in the air the faint yet unmistakable scent of clover in the air? Wherever you feel most at ease, the most open. You see, there is no waste in the Universe. There is no lack in the Universe. All is provided you simply must ask and it will be given unto you. Seek and ye shall find. Knock and it will be opened unto you. “She” asked me why I came and could not believe my answer. “why would anyone care about me” ran through her mind. Why wouldn’t we care would have been a better question. I’ve set next to you in all the trendy night spots drinking 20 year old Scotch watching and waiting for you to see me. I’ve slept under bridges and in doorways and during the day I’ve stood at intersecting and on corners asking you to spare some change to either feed myself or my children. You don’t see me or you pretend you don’t. You tell yourself that I’d only use “your hard earned money” to buy drugs or booze. “If I am so hungry, why don’t I just get a job/” what harder job could there be than to beg for the right to survive when you look at me in disgust you even look at me at all. “Why should I?” seems to be the question of your day and this point in time. If not you then who? If not now. When? You have seen me beaten or murdered on the evening news and you make excuses for my untimely demise. Never thinking or feeling for one moment that you, yourself are part of the problem. That you by your complacency is just as responsible for my beating or murder as the person who committed the act itself. We walk among you not by chance or choice but because we are compelled to do so. It is our duty, our obligation, our honor. Mostly today I must tell you, our sorrow because you remember not where you came from and what you truly are. You know us not but we were set upon you so that you might not so much as stub your toe on a stone. And yet you know us not. We ask for not. We know and believe that what is ours will come to us when it is time. Not one moment before, not one moment after. All the signs are around you screaming out the message that we are among you, that we care, and yet you do not believe. Half of you don’t even know your next door neighbors. Half of you would not help a stranger even if it meant that some day that stranger would save your life. And most of you don’t see us because you have bought into the “great lie” that all people are out to hurt you or take advantage of you in some way. Seriously now, if the whole world was out to get each other nothing would get done. We would be back in the “Dark Ages” and my kind would still be burring on stakes and pires ! The elders among us us remember a time when we were praised and were loved by your kind. You were told time and again to watch for us, to aware, for we walk among you. The elders take us in their arms and soothe us by whispering your names to us and your blessings that were given to you as your birthright. One of us has been present at every atrocity against humanity as well as all the triumphs. We have greeted each and everyone of you at your birth. WE ARE NOT ANGELS. WE ARE VESSELS. And we wait for you. Some of you see us but don’t know who or what we are. But just the same you are drawn to us like moths to a flame. HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!! Sorry. You call us “shiny ones” or “shiny people”. HAHAAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!! Really I am sorry don’t mean to offend. We change you. We shift your perceptions when you first hear us speak and from that moment forward you are never the same. We are the “Vessels”. we were chosen to be different from others. We walk in between space and time. We walk the line between the spiritual realm and the realm of reality. We are born like all others except our gifts and talents are fully developed and there is always something unusual about our births. We are fully aware and without question, we know from birth that we are teachers and healers. We know why each flower blooms when it does and that all things return to the source after it’s time here is done. We know why babies laugh for no apparent reason for we see what they see and know what they know. We are the vessels that contain all human memory good and ill. Even in your darkest hour one of us is with you. You would not know us unless you had contact with one of us. We are conduits of pure love and peace that the Universe works through. You will tell me or one of my kind that you just don’t know why you are telling me this, you just feel compelled. You will tell me or one of my kind what your heart needs to say and yet a few hours later forget the context of our conversation, but somehow your heart will feel lighter and you will be at peace with all around you. Most of the time you convince yourself that our conversation never took place out of fear of not being believed. “Fear is the great mind killer” a line from a movie and yet it is a Universal truth. Fear keeps you from moving in any direction. WaWhoo! What better way to get nothing done at all, not to reach your true potential than to live in fear and do nothing at all. Brilliant ! Live your life for nothing at all. You know, you really never know who you might meet so it is really a good policy to just be kind to all. We are the ones that show up out of nowhere when your last ounce of hope and faith is about to run out. We are vessels. The Universe flows freely through us. Our intentions are pure and all that we do is done with an open hand and a loving spirit. We are here, we walk among you, we offer you guidance, unconditional love, acceptance and of course understanding. So please, the next time you pass a stranger on the street say good day. If you see someone struggling with a burden to great for them alone, lend a hand. You never know who you might be helping and in doing so you are helping yourself grow and reach your true potential. O’ yeah you know about the crying thing. Ok, I was crying that day at the café` because I really did think that I’d never rid myself of the stench of fish! It’s very difficult to keep a cat away from it’s true home. HAHAHAHA!!!!! The “reward” that Sebastian required for his “services” was very high. Very High indeed; but worth it none the less. You see the woman I spent the day with was called “Melinda” in another space in time. She was unjustly accused and executed. But that is another story for another time. Just know that she had given up on finding her hearts desire and he had been searching in vain to find her. Now if you will excuse me, I must be off to deliver my final fishy payment to my consort Sebastian. We all have them you know. He’ll disappear from the flat in a few days and within very little time at all they will forget that he was even there. “She” will forget she ever met me. This is how it has always been and always will be. We are called. We serve. And then we go. And like all things we are called home. But before we go we train another to take our place. Who will you talk to today? Who will change your life? You just don’t know or do you? Hehehehehehehe……….

1 Sebastian’s Surprise It was a day like any other day that I had come to believe was my destiny. Wake at 6am feed Sebastian the rather nappy black and grey stray that had followed me home one rainy evening from the market deciding he enjoyed the comforts of my two room flat far more than the alleys and doorways he had come from. Shower, dress, then off into the world of Paris that I had over the last six months to call home. As I walked along the cobblestone street of Le Rue Blanc I pondered rather I had chosen Paris or if infect Paris had chosen me, It seemed such a strange set of circumstances that had brought me a small-town girl from the Southwest to the metropolis of Paris. The mecca of fashion and culture were I felt more out of place than a radish in a tulip patch. I was abruptly roused from my ponderings by the sharp sound of a whistle informing me that I was about to walk into oncoming traffic. " Concentrate old girl" I chided myself as I sweetly smiled and blushed at the traffic office who had just saved my life. Then out of the corner of my eye I saw her sitting there at a café’ directly in front of me. She was thin, pale, and dressed totally in Black. My heart instantly went out to her. There was just something about her that took me back to a time in my own life not so long ago when I ,like she looked lost almost haunted by grief and hopelessness. I crossed the street and against custom and the etiquette of the city quickly introduced myself in French and asked if I might join her for a coffee and a chat. She raised her head and I was greeted by a pair of piercing, ice blue eyes. I could tell that she had been crying as the salty trail of tears was still fresh on her checks.” I don’t understand what you are saying to me” she said as fought back the tears that were gathering in the corners of her eyes “I am American and as unpopular as it is to be, I don’t speak one fucking word of French!” I instantly started laughing and she to cry. “No, NO, don’t cry. I’m American too.” I sat in the chair next to her and put my arm around her tiny shoulder in solidarity and support. It’s taken me six months to actually order something in a restaurant that I can eat.” I said giggling and wiping the tears from her eyes with the napkin from the table.” Please do stop cry”. “You’re American?” she stammered trying to get her emotions under control”Yup” I said with a grin” Born in Biloxi , Mississippi of all places.”” I never would have guessed. You seem so, so, Parisian” she giggled now with me.” It’s all an illusion done with Loncome,mirrors, lights, and Channel I promise you” we both busted out laughing from our very souls. After we had collected ourselves and I had ordered coffee and fresh rolls for both of us, the silence crept back into her person. Her pale iridescent skin that seemed almost ageless seemed to look even paler and those amazing eyes began to tear up again. My maternal instincts such as they were kicked into overdrive. I took her small hand in my own and began to speak “whatever has brought you so much grief and pain, you must release it for it surely will kill you at this rate my dear. Let it out, your secrets are safe with me”. She looked up from our hands and in a whisper said ”I believe you” Her small body shifted so that we were looking into each others eyes. “I’ll tell you my story if you tell me yours.” Without a moments hesitation I agreed .I just remember thinking to myself, what harm could it do? So I would be late for my boring job, it wouldn’t be the first time and it would not be the last that I would have to listen to Gile bitch about my work ethic and of the uselessness of Americans. His senseless ramblings of if I were not so good at my job he would have been rid of me long ago. A small smile at the thought crossed my face. Seeing that her need to speak was far greater than my own ” You first” I said sipping on my coffee to entice her. She straitened her dress a little and began to speak. “My name is Milagra but all my friends call me Mila. Translated to English it means” miracle” I know it must seem strange to see a caucasusian woman with a Latin name. I told Mila no that my own parents had intentionally or unintentionally I wasn’t sure which gave me an Old English name that when translated ment” Peaceful meadow overlooking the sea.” “So, tell me Mila what brings you to Paris and why are you so very, very, sad?” ”I was called here.” she replied ”Called here?” “Yes called herby whom I do not know.” “Now wait a minute I said, not really believing my ears. “ You were called here by someone you don’t even know and you came? Is that what I hear you saying?” She looked deeply into my eyes and said” Yes. Yes, that is what you are hearing me say. It has always been this way, I am called and I go.” I took a package of cigarettes out of my bag and offered her one. She declined but I need one. I lite and as I exhaled I just had to ask” Mila, is there something you aren’t telling me about you’re ah ,well, your profession? “She just laughed shrugged her shoulders and said “No.” We sat in silence enjoying the rich coffee and fresh baked rolls with fresh butter and homemade jam. I couldn’t stand it any longer.” Mila, why are you here?” “ I am here for you.” she said as she licked a glob of jam of her thumb.” For Me?” “Yes for you.” “ Now wait a minute I have never…….” Calm yourself it isn’t what you think. I am real. You are not insane. You know I am real you saw and felt my tears. But did you not notice you were the only person who paid any attention to me at all or my sorrow?” I was confused by her words and yet they made sense somehow. I really wanted to leave but felt compelled to stay I was mesmerized by this young woman not fully understanding why. I ordered another pot of coffee knowing full well that G1ile was at this moment in the office giving birth to a cow big enough to feed the whole country and I really didn’t give a damn. ”Ok, give. Spill it. How did I call you if I don’t even know you?” I said in a snappy half sarcastic tone that had become my way of late. Mila smiled and the day suddenly seemed much brighter “ Ok, then let’s get down to it shall we.” I sat in utter amazement for the next hour as Mila told me things about myself she could not possible know. In between we had more coffee and a light lunch while she told me things I thought no other human knew about me. As the day grew shorter and the afternoon turned to evening she stopped. “You are here to meet the man you will grow old with; your companion, your strength, your hope.” I laughed out loud and told her that the only “man” in my life was a scruffy old stray who had followed me home from the market and just would not leave. “ You ran from this love a long time ago and now it is looking to claim what is his. That is why I am here. To tell you your wait is over. He is here, And he is yours. Your wait is over.” “Mila I’ve had such a brilliant day with you, please come to my flat and I’ll make us some dinner…….No she replied” My job here is done I must move on there is another in search of a “Miracle.” I excused my self to go to the lady’s and when I returned the bill had been paid and Mila was nowhere to be found. I was both shocked and amused as I made my way towards my flat. I was in such good spirits I stopped at Sebastian’s favorite fish market and got his usual heads and tails, and two very nice salmon steaks as a treat although I couldn’t think of a reason he deserved one. As a special gift it began to rain And I was beginning to dread the phone call that I would have to make to Gile explaining how I got distracted by the city and lost a whole day. As I climbed up the three flights of stairs to my two room flat I had the weirdest feeling that someone was waiting for me. I brushed it off as part of the strangeness of the day and continue to carry my bags upward and onward. As I turned the corner onto the landing where my door lie, I ran headlong into a MAN of all things! I squeaked with a start and dropped my bag. In my best broken French I asked if he was lost and if I could help him. In response in his best broken English he told me I may have his cat.” Black whiff gray hairs, green eye, and very bad manners…………The End or The Beginning?