During its first sojourn vessel #8 held no physical object, but it did not go empty. It was nestled in a spot where people come together to seek and offer healing through sharing their stories and dreams, their tears, their joy. Sometimes caressed, sometimes merely observed, sometimes all but invisible, the bowl helped hold a space meant to fill from within rather than without. Its golden recesses held and reflected the light not only from the window and lamps, but that much more subtle energy of the soul’s song.
Thank you, Lynda, for this lovely adventure in receiving and giving. The patra vessel continues its journey much loved.
Apparently the bowl chose me. That’s what I’m told. Perhaps it heard me threaten to steal it from Bryan and hoped to prevent me from wrongdoing. I hesitated to accept it, feeling altogether unworthy, but after that moment of self-indulgence passed and I gave thanks for its passing, I received the bowl with a happy heart. The next morning I held it before God and invited him to fill it with whatever he chose. I found myself walking (though I never left my chair) through the winter woods, twigs and branches breaking underfoot, when I spied a bird with broken wing. I placed her in the bowl and continued on, finding to my sorrow, many broken birds along the way. I collected them and brought them home. There was room enough for every wounded creature in the bowl. Back home in my chair, I sat in disbelief to think that God would share the burdens of his heart with me. I see them everywhere I go now; birds with broken wings.
No. 8 has found its way to the high plains of Colorado as I write this, now in the hands of someone who will appreciate it on many levels. The bowl has changed me. It has given me a new sense of emptiness when I go to God in prayer, a blessed emptiness because I know that whatever he places in the bowl will be of his making, and it will be enough for the day. I am liberated from the notion that I must fill it…and hope to heaven I’m getting it right. And now I no longer need the actual bowl to experience this, though I confess I miss it a little. I have replaced it with my heart, at peace as I wait for the Spirit to place it in what he will. My thanks to Lynda for this precious experience, and to Bryan for entrusting the bowl to me for a time, and to Mona for receiving the bowl until such time as she is ready to pass it along.
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