It seems appropriate, but I cannot promise I will truly share all of my story here. I am sure it is impossible to do that even if that was my desire.
I never set out to learn magic; the idea would have frightened me. Magic is evil, right? Yet, what was the feeding of 5,000 by Jesus the Christ if not an act of magic?
When I found the holy magic of grace within the hollow, that was also an act of magic. Miracles is another word for magic--at least, it is to me.
The threads of my life since my finding the holy magic of grace are the colors of earth--both in the vivid tones of earth's polished gems, in the colors of soil, and in the many shades of water. I hungered to serve God and I poured out my life force in service taking on one of the (still) most unwelcomed topics: anti-racism. I poured myself out within the whitest denomnation in the United States.
My service was not an easy service but I did a truly fine job! My first anti-racism presentation was in 1991. My last was in November of last year. I retired in March of last year.
I was called a healer. I was called a devil. I suspect both perceptions were sincere. I am flatterd by the former and --now that I am retired and no longer get paid to talk to hurting people (hurt people hurt people)--I am amused by the latter. The fragility it exposes! I will write a bit about the experiences I have had as well as some I am having. I may comment on what is happening in the news. We shall see!
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