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My Spiritual Journey: Following a prophet, One Traveler's Testimony

Day 12 — Claim your power

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#grayskychallenge … Yesterday, today, tomorrow. In the reality in which we live, sometimes it’s the little things that make the difference. I find that seeking out those things that bring joy can make the next day a little easier to live. Because, really, it is all about me in my reality, and it’s all about you in yours. No one can make you have a bad day, no one can force you to put on those dark shades to blind you from the light. Only we have that power in our own reality.

Did you have a bad day today? Did someone step on your toes and make you feel less than you are? I say that’s impossible. Someone may say or do something that hurts you, but you have the power to take that comment or that act, brush off your emotions, your reactions, and file it away with the other lessons you have experienced. Put it in the file cabinet and go into the next day ready to begin again.

Hopefully, we learn from the things that hurt us. Hopefully, we allow ourselves to grow to become an even better person, because, I say this again, no one can make us feel any way. That’s our power.

I choose to see the beauty in every day and ignore the chaos others see playing out on the TV news. Maybe that’s why this challenge of mine is so easy for me? I choose to live the joy I feel every day, not immerse myself in the world of TV and separation.

I say take off those dark shades shielding you from the light and enjoy the colors of the rainbow!

The Dragonfly’s Student

My Spiritual Journey: Following a prophet, One Traveler's Testimony

Week one update #gray-skychallenge

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Dear friends,

I’ve been updating my progress on Facebook. I need to rethink my posting. Some of you are not on Facebook, and by keeping updates on one or two social media sites, I’m robbing you, my readers, on the lessons I’m learning.

Today, I’ll post Day 2 through Day 8, as they appeared, minus most photos.

Day 2’s #grayskychallenge smile is this Blue Jay who brought me a message: Jay teaches lessons of adaptation to any situations and learning quickly with a high intelligence. He gives access to memories long forgotten and shows how to assimilate them into awareness. He

demonstrates risk taking, seizing opportunities and discovering new avenues for exploration. He will show the power of intelligence and fortitude balanced with discreet silence and utmost patience in timing. #greattiming #happyday

Day 3 of #grayskychallenge is solitude day. Once upon a time, that used to be unsettling. Today, it’s #soulfood! There are things about ourselves we sometimes hide from ourselves! Today, I found another part of me. Smile!

What part of me did I find? I found that part of me who listens to Innate, our inner connection to Source. Sure, I’ve listened to her before, but many times I challenge her to prove that I should, and often I end the day saying, “I should have done that thing that popped into my head.” Today was different!

#grayskychallenge Day 4 finds joy in reawakening passions from days gone by when Mrs. Manning, Mr. Valente, and a private tutor named Jesus, fed my love of singing. Today, I start again with basic scales and YouTube accompaniment … it’s not really as easy as getting back on a bike!

Rekindle your own childhood passions, my friends.

#grayskychallenge Day 5 is about the true friendship and love I witness in those around me, from two former students saying goodbye once again, to a cashier and a customer exchanging a hello-again hug. True friendship means never having a final sunset, because there will be another sunrise down the road. #havefaith #truefriends

#grayskychallenge, Day 6 – remember our blessings! Too often, we forget or take things for granted. Today, I sit in awe of the man who was and is my partner on this journey. Whether he’s fixing our RV or making a baton out of a Goodwill golf club, David never ceases to amaze me! The “silver lining” part of this day for me (for I must add a personal lesson for it to fit this gray-sky challenge of mine) … on this journey with him, I have learned that anything is possible, even wild, magical dreams! I have learned that I, too, am capable of turning my life into my own “impossible dream” come true. And that is a lesson we should all take to heart — no matter our age or our upbringing, nothing is impossible if we are willing to put in the work and follow our heart. Now, it’s time I get off this beast-machine and get back to practice! #faithcanworkmiracles Have faith in yourselves, my friends! KNOW it will happen and the Universe will see to it that it does!

#grayskychallenge, Day 7 – laughter is the best medicine. I was reminded today that we can get caught up in the heaviness of this world just like a fly in a spider web; the more we try to break free, the more entangled we become in the heavy trap. It’s not worth the stress. Instead, look for the humor in it. I know, it’s tough to laugh when the spider is eyeing you, but sometimes the Universe reacts to positive vibes. Maybe you’ll luck out and the wind will swing a branch through the web and you’ll be able to hitch a ride out of your imagined trap.

Day 8 of #grayskychallenge … is the challenge of seeing yourself through the looking glass. I am not the one I see in the mirror. She is a reflection of what I show the world, but she’s not really me. She’s the one who fights to keep up appearances to the point that her truth is obscured in the mist of a hot shower. The real me is loving and positive of God’s love burning in my heart, but, like with Moses, I feel my body has been the source of a Divine battle between Archangel Michael and the devil.  Sometimes, even I don’t recognize what I’ve done until the mist has cleared and the devastation is evident. I am sorry to the point of tears for the damage my words or my actions have caused. … so where’s the silver lining to this gray sky? I Know I am forgiven. I Know the Creator loves me more than I can ever imagine, and all I need do is accept His forgiveness. The great thing is, we are all loved and we are all forgiven. Feel it, my friends. The Almighty I Am loves you beyond measure!

My Spiritual Journey: Following a prophet

The Candy Man Can

I’m afraid I’ve been thinking, again, and that admission may make my friends shudder, but, hear me out, please.

I was listening to another guru talk about our soul’s essence being fractured into several pieces, each piece living its own human existence in another body in another time and place. The goal of life is to bring all the soul pieces together again into one stronger, more wise being.

In meditation a little later, I saw a common, everyday, carnival mainstay, a cotton candy machine.

Just a mess of Creation…

I saw myself spinning in the center, strings of myself fanning out all around me,  waiting to be gathered. I tried to gather myself into something, but I made myself dizzy before accepting that I couldn’t. The web of my essence just kept fanning all around, just flapping strings of pink and blue sugar. I realized that what I needed was the Candy Man. Only He could gather my web into something solid.
What if our souls, the true essence of our being, were one stalk of sugar cane converted into a cup of sugar crystals? What if our crystallized bits were melted through the trials and tribulations of our human existence and poured into one gigantic machine in Big Al’s Rec Room, or God’s Carnival of Existence?

What if we were to stop fighting the Candy Man? What if we finally learn to make ourselves the best sugar crystal ever poured into a machine instead of trying to dictate the lives of others? What if that one crystal that first came to that realization finally convinced the others to do the same? What if they all allowed the Candy Man to Create a beautiful mold of cotton candy from the webs of our existence?

What if we are all, every single one of us, connected in this big game of life by the web of sugar crystals fanning out from the center of Creation?

What if we were to finally recognize the Candy Man as the final piece of the puzzle, the One Who will put us all back together again after our Great Fall from the Celestial Wall?

What if we were to simply say, “Yes, God, I believe I am ready. Do your thing.”?

What would the Candy Man do?

Just another random musing by me,

The Dragonfly’s Student

My Spiritual Journey: Following a prophet

One Traveler’s Testimony

As I continue to change and grow, my blog will reflect my journey. 

Minnah and I have been on a road trip since we left Miami in June of 2014. Minnah was an energetic red puppy of mixed origin who looked to me like the Chocolate Lab I always knew would travel with me. I was a high school teacher awakening to the spiritual world and heading out on a Vision Quest to find my own Truth.

Along the way, we picked up a friend, whom I named El Juglador in my prior blogs. The three of us headed West to find the Hopi and other Truths that can only be found in the deserts of America. Then we continued our travels, from sea to shining sea, essentially, following a Higher Call.

One thing I’ve witnessed on this spiritual quest is something I have fought to admit. I pride myself on being Pollyanna, believing the best in people. It’s been sad, however, to have to admit the truth – people have only their own interests at heart.

I know, I know. I can hear the groans from the studio audience. What proof do I have? How can I come up with such a blanket statement?

We have witnessed a lot these past two years, we have met very special people who don’t know they’re special, but we’ve also met people who are the reverse of that. The most-telling experiences have come since we set out on the road in our precious BT Cruiser, whom we have nicknamed MammaJama, or MJ for short. That’s when mechanics started seeing dollar signs when they saw us.

I mean, I can’t blame them. Isn’t everyone just out to make a buck? They expect an RV to mean a vacation home, meaning money in the bank, not a rolling Genie bottle that’s home to a couple of gypsies.

The truth is any businessman gets that impression in his quest to Do What He Will for himself first. Wandering merchants approach us with their wares. Homeless panhandlers know there’s something for them. It’s a recreational burden, I must admit.

Except this isn’t a vacation home. It’s my home. I live here, so my biggest gripe with what I’ve seen these past two-plus years is,

Mechanics! Not one mechanic over another. I mean the entire breed of mechanic.

We give them access to our vehicle, which just so happens to include everything we own. I hope to be able to trust that my home is safe. So, yeah, that is my first Consumer Gripe. It’s gotten to the point where leaving MJ with any mechanic feels like I’m handing my child over to a pedophile.

From the wrong ball joints being replaced, at my cost to correct, to a wrong diagnosis that took months to diagnose and repair, much of which was paid for by me, I have grown to doubt these workmen I used to trust because, honestly, I couldn’t fix my vehicle myself. My heart ached a little this summer for the mechanic who insisted one day in Fallon, Nevada, “This is a small town. You can trust us.” They did not take advantage of us at that mechanic shop, C-Bar-R; in fact, they went out of their way to be helpful, but their brothers in gray have not been as honorable.

How can I trust these strangers in my home without my supervision?

I will not bore you today with every sordid detail of the mechanic-nightmare we have lived, except to focus on one main frustration, the men (and women) who insist they know what is wrong with our vehicle. They proceed with the costly work, either with or without our approval first, rarely to be correct in their initial diagnosis. Again and again, they take advantage of us just to make a little money off something they’re not sure is the real problem.

Do they stand behind their work when their diagnosis turns out to have been incorrect? Aah, therein lies the rub. Mechanics can never be wrong, we assume, and no mechanic will agree that another mechanic could have been wrong. It is almost like mechanics work together. It’s like if the secret got out, if people realized mechanics lie, the long-suffering glory-days of America’s love affair with their car’s mechanic will be over. It’s like a clan of Brothers in Gray.

So this addition to my The Dragonfly’s Student blog will present real-life parables that speak to the life we’re each living, every one of us who functions in this world. I will take you back to my ordeals, not to slander someone’s good name, but to comment on our specific situation, similar to a Letter to the Editor from an opinion-filled customer. I will even post this blog on their customer comments section to keep it real.

This blog will function as my testimony on the people I have met along my journey.

In June of 2014, I was a high school teacher awakening to a spiritual reality. Just like other New Agers, I believed we are in a reality where we all have an ability to be One with God. Unlike other New Agers, however, I know we are not gods. There is only one God, the Most High. Those who pretend to be “like God” are those tempting us to repeat the sins of Eve so that we will continue to be their slaves when we, too, will be banned forever from the Kingdom of God.

That’s a pretty heavy-handed statement, I know.

Along our travels, El Juglador and I have come to realize that we humans have learned to justify ourselves, to set our own ethical standards. Good people do less-than-honorable things when it comes to watching out for themselves. When it comes down to it, they have learned to excuse themselves from judgment, claiming, “God knows my heart.”

Let me tell you this from my own personal experience. I used to repeat that to myself as I continued sinning against God and against my soul. The Truth I’ve learned thus far is not as forgiving. Yes, God knows my heart. He also knows when I am not living the truth of my heart, when I am living a lie. That is what The Most High knows. That is what He objects to the most.

There is a difference between “thinking” you are a good person and actually “being” the person you believe yourself to be. There’s a difference between Clark Kent and Superman, and it has everything to do with Being super.

So, as I sign off on my Traveler’s Testimony, I leave you with one overarching thought – today, I am when and where I should be as a servant of God. This new blog is a graduation of sorts from The Dragonfly’s Student, and because my birth name, Mariolga Fernandez, means, The Beloved (or Bitter sea) (Mary) and Blessed (Olga), Traveler (Fernandez), the graduated Dragonfly’s Student will sign as the Happy Traveler.

Much Love to you, my fellow travelers,

The Dragonfly’s Happy Traveler

My Spiritual Journey: Following a prophet

Riding The Great River

“Row, row, row, your boat, gently down the stream,” the old childhood song played. “… merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, life is but a dream.”

In my schooldays, this song was a regular chorus round that tested each singer’s ability to stay in tune while singing just a step ahead of or behind, another singer. But, today, that last line made me stop.

“Life is but a dream?” What esoteric wisdom has been given to us as children? Reminds me of Billy Joel’s River of Dreams…

And I’ve been searching for something
Taken out of my soul
Something I would never lose
Something somebody stole

El Juglador got to thinking, too.

“Imagine a droplet of water living as one of a Great River meandering through a vast countryside,” he said. “Gently, the river moves over sandy banks, between rocky cliffs, over smooth river boulders, but always the droplets remain near each other, like a family, never knowing anything but together.

“I imagine that when the river meets a waterfall, just over the edge, the droplets separate, some falling faster than others, some being blown distant by a passing gust of wind. As they fall, the droplets, who have lost their sense of self after being part of something greater, suddenly experience a separation from the family, floating and falling alone, experiencing the exhilaration and possible fear of the fall until the crash at the bottom, where the drops land unscathed to flow again down the river with the family.”

I remember when he mentioned this before, his belief that life is like a river. This song brought up the memory once again, and we both drifted off in thought. He pulled out his flute. I opened my laptop.

What if we are each like a drop of water? After all, we are practically all water ourselves. What if, as the song says, this reality we imagine is really just a dream? That 9-to-5, only a routine. That search for the perfect mate, really only a search for the comfortable family of the river, where we were one of many, never alone, never rejected.

Sometimes, water remains united, as in a chunk of ice left over from the winter before. When the warm spring rains come, the ice thaws and weakens and, when it hits a boulder or the hull of a speeding boat, the ice breaks apart. The water droplets, however, are never far from each other. Cohesion draws water to water, even fighting forces of gravity and wind with just the simple force of desire, never separating too far from the mass of the familial comfort that is the River of Home. What if this life we’re living is the drops of water falling off the cliff?

We are never too far from the moment of cohesion, but, as we fall, we are separated. Although the distance is only the empty space and the rush of the fall, we can’t remember that meandering river where we originated or the peaceful Home where we know we are returning eventually. We have become so enmeshed in the reality of our waterfall experience that we forget what it’s like to be part of the family of the River.

That moment of separation is when we humans need the power of faith most, that belief in one, unifying force that reminds us of the meandering river we used to call Home. The belief in the one God of the Great River of life is our only common denominator, many times.

What if God is that for which we search? Maybe that’s the reason we seek out relationships, why we swarm to social media and water-cooler friendships at work? Maybe that’s the reason we feel alone as we crash down to the blaring music of the roar of the waterfall?

angel-falls_salto-angel-2
Angel Falls, Venezuela

I wish that, in lieu of the incessant bombardment of sexual propaganda and racial separation we get in our society, we were, instead, constantly reminded of ourselves as just one part of a falling river looking for the way home. Frozen in fear as we fall, we build our own sense of separation. In this reality of superficiality, we judge with our eyes in a racism that goes beyond the dictionary definition and goes all ways … the black man who speaks from his education is judged by his peers as too white, the white man working two jobs to feed his family must lead a privileged life because of his race. The black woman who doesn’t react to a traumatic situation the way others think she should is considered a liar by YouTubers looking for a new conspiracy, regardless of the reality she lives in an increasingly dangerous America. A woman who was born a Fernández is not recognized as Hispanic because she writes and speaks like the English-language writer she always dreamed she would be as an American-raised Cuban. An Ojibwa Indian flute player is not received as a Native American flute player because his eyes are too blue and his skin too light.

What if this Great River on which we’re traveling is simply the Universe; this life falling into a clear, refreshing lagoon, simply a dream full of experiences. Along the way, the River’s path changes, sometimes smooth, other times becoming rapids. God forbid, it swirls into a whirlpool with a vicious undertow or even a steep drop, like Venezuela’s Angel Falls. In the end, we will rejoin our family and realize we are all one. Imagine what we will Know when we splash down together at the end of the long ride.

I hope our actions during this free-fall of our return into The Great River of the All That Is will not make us feel too much guilt.

Namaste, my friends. I am, ever-faithfully,

The Dragonfly’s Writer

My Spiritual Journey: Following a prophet

On The Road, The Lessons Continue

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Confusion abounds in this world, especially when it comes to having faith in a greater power. It’s understandable, I must say. Great arsons, such as the fire at the library in Alexandria in 48 BC, have been a big part of human history. Our knowledge is controlled.

It’s usually the same story. Someone in power wants to enslave us, so they control the stories from the past that may give us a bit of insight to our situation. Many of us are eager to get on the road toward wisdom, but the map is behind a locked case.

There are private libraries closed off to us. There is a vast library housed by the Roman Catholic Church in the Vatican of books it confiscated in its quest to control its spread of religion. Did you know the Catholic Church was not the first existence of Christianity? In fact, the church made it a practice to fold prior existing forms of faith into its own history. The Cathars come to mind as one group of Christians who were massacred during the Inquisition because they wouldn’t join the church. Most of us have no clue about the knowledge confiscated in the name of Christianity that the “church fathers” have locked behind closed doors in their quest to control the knowledge we can access.

In 1945, however, an amazing find was discovered in a small desert town near the Dead Sea. The Nag Hammadi library in Qumran in the West Bank, also known as the Dead Sea Scrolls, is a collection of 972 ancient Hebrew texts and sectarian manuscripts that had been buried safely away from the Roman troops who destroyed Jerusalem in 70 A.D. Since the advent of the internet, many of the translations of those texts have led to the re-evaluation of early Christian history and the role Gnosticism played.

My favorite “newly rediscovered” biblical text is the Book of Enoch, totally left out of all biblical text in the modern day. One of the texts “rediscovered” in the Qumran caves, it was actually never lost to some. It has long been used in the Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church as an inspired document written by Enoch himself. They believe the first sentence of the Book of Enoch is the first and oldest sentence written in any human language:

“Word of blessing of Henok, wherewith he blessed the chosen and righteous who would be alive in the day of tribulation for the removal of all wrongdoers and backsliders.”

Although the Book of Enoch does not appear in either the Old or New Testaments of the Christian Bible, Enoch is mentioned a few times, one particular time in Jude 1: 14-15.

“And Enoch also, the seventh from Adam, prophesied of these, saying, Behold, the Lord cometh with ten thousands of his saints, To execute judgment upon all, and to convince all that are ungodly among them of all their ungodly deeds which they have ungodly committed, and of all their hard speeches which ungodly sinners have spoken against him.”

The book goes on to talk about what Enoch says is the beginning of mankind, including stories of the Fallen Angels and the giants who lived in those days before and after Noah’s flood, as Genesis 6 recounts in the Old Testament of the Christian bible. (* on a side note, since leaving the real world behind during the summer of 2014, I have rediscovered my love of reading. I can’t believe I lived so long without knowing about the knowledge I have been finding!)

I think more of us need to seek out these formerly “lost” documents that cast another light on the Christianity we claim to follow. I’ve mentioned in this blog before that the man we know as Jesus was an Essene and, thus, a vegetarian, but did you also know his name was not Jesus? It was Yeshua.

I used to blame my Catholic faith for keeping me from reading the Bible. It just wasn’t something that we would do. Why read, after all, when a priest can give us a summary every Sunday? The fault in my childhood was mine, though. I can’t blame them for my own laziness.

There is a truth in my original beliefs, though. Knowledge has been hidden from us. How can we be expected to truly understand the Father if we are not fully understanding the Son?

“Jesus saith unto him, I am the way, the truth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me.” (KJV John 14:6

Many Christians proclaim this verse from the rooftops and on bumper stickers, but do they really understand what Yeshua meant? They say they are saved by His sacrifice, but I wonder if that’s just another misrepresentation given to a people who are more than willing to sit back and let ourselves be saved.

When someone claims that his faith in Jesus will save him on Judgment Day, and yet this person continues to shove the unclean meats of bacon and bar-b-q ribs into his stomach, and ignores the homeless man begging for a dollar to help him deal with his own lot in life, I have to wonder if Yeshua’s promise will be enough.

I am not judging here, my friends. We live in a crazy world where we barely have time to study after we enter the work force. We are fed lies we believe are truths despite what we experience or we think we see, and we believe those lies because we didn’t spend more time in college studying those topics or because “our politicians must have better knowledge than we have.”

I believe there is more to this “being saved” than the belief that the Creator knows our hearts. We need to reevaluate our lives and step away from what brings us down. In this reality, we are being Created into a perfection of our own. We are a work in progress.

School never ended. We are working to get that graduate degree in the eternal world into which our soul was born. One day, we may all have the ability to graduate as Yeshua did. That, I believe, is what his sacrifice is all about.

So, as I study, I reevaluate my life and change things that weren’t working. Once I understood my goal is to return to my Eternal Father’s house, the knowledge I get falls into place. I now have a map.

I am still human. I make mistakes, but it’s getting easier to get back on the road and continue my journey.

Peace and Love, my friends.

The Dragonfly’s Student

My Spiritual Journey: Following a prophet

The Biggest Truth

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Oh, the roads I have travelled since the Dragonfly Teacher first entered my life …. He was the jokester, the big brother, the wise uncle and, finally, the all-knowing teacher who led me down a path I didn’t know I was traveling until I was almost at my destination. Yet one of the most precious lessons I learned is one I haven’t felt free to voice to you, dear reader.

I’m ready today.

There is an awakening going on all over the world. Chances are, if you are following this blog, you sense it, too. The thing is, no matter how many of us are awakening, there is still something that keeps people from admitting the biggest Truth.

“For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son that whosoever believeth in him shall not perish, but have everlasting life.” (John 3:16 KJV)

Being Christian is not acceptable in this world.

For many years, as a journalist, then as a teacher and the wife of a wonderful man who is agnostic, I kept my faith hidden except from my sons. You see, it is okay to say you believe in ghosts and super heroes, but it is still not acceptable to tell the world you believe in a Creator and His Son and the Most Holy Spirit.

The dragonfly led me to acknowledge and accept the burning drive in my soul to stand up and be counted. And, when the time was right, I was finally able to do as Yeshua (Jesus) told his followers …

“If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow me.” (Matthew 16:24 KJV)

It hasn’t been easy. I have left my hometown and my family. I was fortunate in that my sons were young men, but I will still be judged for leaving them and their father to find myself. I understand that truth and it cuts me deeply whenever I think about it. The only point I must make here is that something in my soul was dying. I was lost. Only my faith in Yeshua and our Heavenly Father kept me from drowning. God knows where my lost soul would have taken me.

I could find no home in a temple built by man. I sought and found God within me. The more I discovered, though, the more separated I felt from those in the physical world around me. The need to uncover the truth within me drove me away from everyone and everything I knew. That’s the way it has to be. The best way (and, for me, the only way) to truly repent the sins that have driven us from God is to separate ourselves from that world that embraced us when we were falling away from the One Source. Once I started finding my Truth, my thirst for more became unquenchable.

Many are as confused as I was, I know. We don’t understand why we’re unhappy. We seek comfort in a bottle or the medicine cabinet or the “boob” tube, among other things, but that comfort is fleeting. We look for something that sparks our soul, not knowing if we’ll recognize it when it slaps us across the face. Now, looking back on the past two years, I have identified that “a-ha” moment that started me on this new road.

At seventeen, I wrote in my diary that one day I would be traveling across the country with a chocolate lab and a camera. That thought hovered in my subconscious for thirty years until a puppy came into my life. Minnah looked like a small chocolate lab puppy and she fit into that knowing from my youth. The fire of recognition sparked as I plotted my travels; it grew into a flame. Now, two years later, I am living that Knowing that I had as a youth, and I’ve never felt more at one with my Creator. The New Age groups I encountered along the way eventually dimmed the fire, so my journey continued alone for a long while until I met my latest teacher, El Juglador, who continues to guide me down the path that called us both. I thank God every day for allowing me such a teacher. I am blessed with continued lessons.

I must admit I had to make some drastic changes and repent in order to feel I was right with God – not because of a supposed Judgment from an overpowering Lord but because. as a “sinner,” I felt unworthy to enter into the presence of the Almighty. Papa Dios, is what I called Him when I was a child, my Eternal Father, in essence.

There’s something in the air

Many are feeling a burning in their soul or a sense of dis-ease with their life. They may look at what I’ve done and consider it too drastic for them. I get that! I can’t expect anyone to do what I’ve done. It took faith and luck and an awful lot of good timing and help from above.

These past two years have taken me on a roller coaster ride like no other. I have changed in ways I could never have imagined. The things that mattered to me before don’t even measure a blip on my radar screen right now. The things that matter to me now did not even exist as possibilities for my reality.

Now that I am living my Truth, I am at peace. I feel protected. He loves me. I’ve never been more sure about it and it has never been as palpable an emotion as it is today. There’s no question. I am loved regardless of whether I follow His will or rebel. Following His path, however, is what feels right to me.

Let me tell you something else, my friends. As children of the eternal Creator, we are all loved. I am not alone. The Love our Creator has for you is deeper and truer than anything you can ever imagine.

The Lord is saddened by the distance that separates us from Him. It is a distance created by man, not by God. He is the Father from the story of the Prodigal Son who welcomes his long-lost son with an embrace. He is neither judgmental nor egalitarian. There is no need for hell nor reincarnation if during this life we accept the fact of His Love and His gift of his only begotten Son, the Christ who leads us Home, but each must follow the Christ Within. Find the Truth that lies hidden in your soul and spark it back into existence.

Accept it, my friends. Live it.

All my love to you,

The Dragonfly’s Student