MY CROWS & MY BIRDS, AND ME

In this blog series I will take you along with me on my adventure of creating a bird sanctuary in my suburban yard in Baltimore County, Maryland. I give the crows front heading because, for reasons I can’t explain, I developed a heart for them. There is something extraordinary about them and I hope to discover what it is and share it with you. So keep a look out on facebook for my updates with the link into the blog. Or you can follow my blog by checking into it occasionally for the additional articles.

And don’t hesitate to comment on facebook or in the blog comment section. We can share ideas together.

December 3,2025

As of late, I’ve developed the challenge, and the heart, to befriend a crow.  I say crow(s) because it can be interesting to try to discern one crow from another.  They look identical…right? or do they? I choose to believe that it is one particular crow.  The one who left me that penny on my bedroom windowsill this summer.

Black Crow
black crow

 It all started with a tug on my heart in the summer of 2025. For reasons I don’t know, I began to desire a bond with a crow.  I thought it would be cool to befriend one of the noisy and persistently bold birds that periodically present themselves on my front yard. I had been feeling the desire for their friendship for a few weeks before the penny mysteriously showed up.

THE BACKGROUND AND THE BUILDUP

It was a Sunday morning. During my breakfast I had read about consciousness in the lifestyle section of the Epoch Times. There was an article about a man with a family and a job who had only 30% of his brain functioning due to hydrocephalus.  There was a case study about him because of his capacity to function seemingly normally, in spite of the fact that he did not have a fully functioning brain.  The phenomenon is leading more research in the source of consciousness because clearly, it is not seated within the brain like science has always maintained. The idea of consciousness lingered in my mind for days.

That evening, I had a dream about my crow. Well, it’s not actually ‘my crow’. Not yet. Hopefully eventually however we will be friends. In my dream there were 2 birds on a fence railing. One was a small bird, probably a female cardinal. There was a beautiful jet black crow perched on the railing to her right. I put out my right hand and the smaller bird hopped onto my open palm. Then my attention turned to my crow. It sat there and allowed me to pet it on the head with my left hand before it flew away. This was all in my dream on that Sunday night.

I got up the next morning to put birdseed out on my bedroom windowsill. And that’s when I discovered the 1993 penny just sitting there. This was a mystery to me because the window sill is nearly 7 feet from the ground. There is a huge rhododendron bush in front of the window as well. When the penny showed up and I wrote about it in a facebook post, friends all said that that was crow behavior. Afterwards I did a bit of research to see if other birds (like sparrows, cardinals or even the occasional blue jay that landed on my windowsill) have been noted to bring items to human beings.  Apparently, its consistently afforded only to crows.

Hand holding a quarter above a wooden surface casting a shadow.

Crows are considered the smartest of all the birds in the avian kingdom.  I had never seen a crow land on my windowsill for food like the other birds that gather there.  Plus, since there is a large rhododendron bush in front of that bedroom window, I couldn’t imagine how a crow would manage to squeeze into that space.  But, they are the smartest of all birds I am told, so maybe they have their clever ways.

Maybe my crow (which I now love to call it)  was aware that I had begun a practice of feeding the birds in my yard to create a sort of bird sanctuary in my own suburban plot.  I had birdhouses and bird feeders and even a bird bath. Maybe it was watching over the summer and decided it wanted a part of the action.

I can’t help but consider the possibility that my consciousness mingled with that particular crow’s consciousness. Maybe the desires of my heart mingled with the heart of a crow. Maybe consciousness is a vast energy that is God, and there is really no separation between our consciousness and all of nature’s. Maybe a human’s consciousness can mingle with a bird’s consciousness.  And to take it a step further, maybe it was the crow’s consciousness that quickened my own heart.  Maybe the crow initiated the desire for me to befriend it?  It’s the ‘what came first’ quandary …the chicken or the egg; and in this case, the crow or the human being? This is a mystery I love to dance with in my quiet moments in my garden.

GRANDMA LOVE

July 29,2020
GRANDMA LOVE
If I were an oak tree….my grandson Lucas has quietly and gradually carved his initials into my trunk.
How can a bundle of such helpless fragility be so powerful?
His target is my heart. His purpose in my life is to etch himself into my soul and in so doing shed a spotlight onto my journey thus far with a new clarity and a new purpose…and did I mention….a new joy that spices what was already there.
He conquered my heart in those sweet moments as he innocently slept (or even fussed) in my arms.

VIEW FROM A GRANDMOTHER’S WINDOW

June 18, 2020
I didn’t know what to expect when he made his grand entrance, my grandson on June 11th, 2020. He arrived and my son in law sent me a photo of Lucas Liam. He was stretched out in all his glory. Took my breath away.
But when I was sent the photo of my daughter holding her glistening and peaceful newborn on her chest, all I could do was sob. The emotion was just a flood. I had no words to match the sight of my first born with her own first born.
I’m beginning to understand the love for a grandchild. People told me it was amazing, like nothing else, the best. For me it was like those rockets that head into space. At a certain point, shortly after lift off another powerful surge of explosion jettisons the capsule into space while the fuel capsule falls away. The love for my daughter is like that fuel that was the source of the second explosion. My grandson is not just another precious baby. Because he is sourced from my daughter, my experience of him is a direct extension of my love for his mother. They are one in the same.
Could my love for Lucas be double my love for her? I doubt that. God has revealed to me that love has no bounds. It builds upon itself over and over again.

SWEET MEMORIES

Sept 29, 2019

As with every memorable life experience….its about the people. It’s the people who in some fashion touched our hearts and made an indelible sweet mark.

Here you see Wendy, the hotel hostess from Visgnola bidding us goodbye; the restaurant hostess (Louisa) and her maitre’de (Alberto) who urged us into their dining room that first rain drenched stressful night and had us sit for dinner instead of carry something out (we had our first bottle of red and Italian lasagna that night) and we returned for lunch two days later to visit them and have one of our most delectable lunches on our three week Italy tour; to Fanush, a fellow traveler (she was from Iran) who sat at the table beside us; and the sweet little girl flirting with me at breakfast our first morning in Visgnola.

People memories are like the salt you add to your favorite soup recipe because they enhance the experience so it’s flavor lasts forever in your soul.

ITALIAN MAGIC

I’ve decided to share a blog post I wrote about my first day in Italy. I’ll share it here so you can get a feel for my writing style for real:
5am 9/6/19:
After our first travel day ‘from hell’ we had collapsed into a deep sleep at around midnight. The sleep abandoned me around 5am. I pulled myself out of bed to look out the glass sliding doors leading to our hotel patio.
dawn breaking after the night rains with clouds lying low over lake como
And there it was! Stunned at the beauty, and unable to move I gazed down at the valley where Lake Como was tucked into. The foothill mountains of the mighty snow peaked Alps towered massively over Bellagio and Varenna, and other little villages were clustered into tiny masses like beehives hugging rocks. I could sense the awakening busy-ness from the flickering lights of their day beginning.
It was the moment in the day where it’s not quite night anymore, nor has dawn fully declared herself. There were the soft muted tones of a gray sky with a lavender mist. Speckles of brilliant lights reminding me of lightening bugs in my front yard back home. The sun had not yet risen enough to outshine the specks of light from windows below. The valley below was still asleep except for the smattering of flickering evidence of early risers.
There are those who say Bellagio, Italy is the old-world cobbled street charm of long ago. The nooks and crannies of passage ways and sharp turns that make you soak in the wonder of times past and bustling shops. The delightful surprise of a hidden shop in a crooked alley or the aroma of the garlic that mingles with the smiles of vacationing Europeans walking past restaurants and gazing hungrily at the menus.
But, as I sit here on my patio in Visgonla and gaze at the site below, I say that Bellagio is the hum of life in the valley who’s sounds make their way up into the hills. It’s the breath of cotton that slowly floats along the mountain and hugs the terra cotta rooftops. It’s the steam of His breath that conceals the sigh of cars I can barely hear making their way into the waiting valley below where commerce and tourists await to grab hold of the day. It’s the white peaks of the southern Alps that roll towards the massive Lake Como and tower over the valley. And it’s the small buildings and homes nestled into its hills overlooking the lake.
tufts of clouds lying low over the hill and rooftops
Larry and I pulled ourselves together like two sleepy kids on Christmas morning. We made our way down a cobbled stoned passageway adjacent to our hotel to an establishment called the Corner Bar. It was the only place in this tiny hamlet to have something savory for breakfast. We were starving from our seemingly endless transatlantic travelling the day before and decided the one bakery in Visgnola could wait until later in the day. We had our first true Italian expressos! Larry enjoyed a ‘breakfast’ pizza and I had a hard-crusted prosciutto panini.
Sweet 3 year old little girl smiling at me.
A little girl met my eyes and flirted with me. I played ‘hide and seek’ behind Larry’s broad shoulder with her. We lingered in this little bar/café for over an hour waiting for a morning shower to stop. Once it did, we took our first of numerous hikes down into the valley below. The beginning of what was the promise of adventure, deliciousness and wonder that we would share together for 3 whole weeks. Children on Christmas morning? We felt like children yes, but maybe it was more like we had died and gone to heaven.

VIEW FROM A GRANDMOTHER’S WINDOW

June 24th, 2020
View from a Grandmother’s Window:


Two precious images. Lucas looking like he’s seeing his mom clearly for the first time (we know he’s not yet 🙂 ). I love to be able to capture these precious moments.
I’m ‘feeling out’ this grandmother thing. Its not just a learning curve for baby and mama.
How much do I say? How much do I teach. Do I wait to be asked….or just charge on in? (not).
Is it enough to just gently shove that baby nipple in his mouth to show how its done, or to say ‘you can’t hold a newborn ‘too much’ at this time.
Grandmother-hood is something about knowing when to ‘step in’ and when to sit on my hands. There’s never a ‘time’ to love however, because that’s an always sort of thing.
Mama’s need to figure out their own way. They need to figure out what works for them and their baby….how to fit this ‘motherhood’ thing into who they are; what they are; and what their life demands from them.
Grandmotherhood is about becoming more expert at being a keen observer; and being ready to be available when its right.
I know I’m going to want to teach about the best way to nourish little Lucas’s body/mind and spirit.
I’ll keep journalling about that!

MY CROWS AND ME

Close-up of a black crow's head with detailed feathers and beak.
testing
Hand holding a quarter above a wooden surface casting a shadow.

MY CROW(S) AND ME

December 3,2025

As of late, I’ve developed the challenge, and the heart, to befriend a crow.  I say crow(s) because it can be interesting to try to discern one crow from another.  They look identical…right? or do they?

I choose to believe that it is one particular crow.  The one who left me that penny on my bedroom windowsill this summer.

 It all started with a tug on my heart in the summer of 2025. For reasons I don’t know, I began to desire a bond with a crow.  I thought it would be cool to befriend one of the noisy and persistently bold birds that periodically present themselves on my front yard. I had been feeling the desire for their friendship for a few weeks before the penny mysteriously showed up.

THE BACKGROUND AND THE BUILDUP

It was a Sunday morning. During my breakfast I had read about consciousness in the lifestyle section of the Epoch Times. There was an article about a man with a family and a job who had only 30% of his brain functioning due to hydrocephalus.  There was a case study about him because of his capacity to function seemingly normally, in spite of the fact that he did not have a fully functioning brain.  The phenomenon is leading more research in the source of consciousness because clearly, it is not seated within the brain like science has always maintained. The idea of consciousness lingered in my mind for days.

That evening, I had a dream about my crow. Well, it’s not actually ‘my crow’. Not yet. Hopefully eventually however we will be friends. In my dream there were 2 birds on a fence railing. One of the birds was a female cardinal. There are two cardinal pairs that live on my property. One of the females even laid 3 eggs in my wygalia bush this past summer.

So, I wasn’t surprised she showed up in my dream. There was a beautiful jet black crow perched on the railing to her right. I put out my right hand and the smaller bird hopped onto my open palm. The crow sat there and allowed my to pet it on the head with my left hand before it flew away. This was all in my dream on that Sunday night.

I got up the next morning to put birdseed out on my bedroom windowsill. And thats when I discovered the 1993 penny just sitting there. This was a mystery to me because the window sill is nearly 7 feet from the ground. There is a huge rhodadendran bush in front of the window as well. When the penny showed up and I wrote about it in a facebook post, friends all said that that was crow behavior. Afterwards I did a bit of research to see if other birds (like sparrows, cardinals or even the occasional blue jay that landed on my windowsill) have been noted to bring items to human beings.  Apparently, its consistently afforded only to crows.

Crows are considered the smartest of all the birds in the avian kingdom.  I had never seen a crow land on my windowsill for food like the other birds that gather there.  Plus, since there is a large rhododendron bush in front of that bedroom window, I couldn’t imagine how a crow would manage to squeeze into that space.  But, they are the smartest of all birds I am told, so maybe they have their clever ways.

Maybe my crow (which I now love to call it)  was aware that I had begun a practice of feeding the birds in my yard to create a sort of bird sanctuary in my own suburban plot.  I had birdhouses and bird feeders and even a bird bath. Maybe it was watching over the summer and decided it wanted a part of the action.

I can’t help but consider the possibility that my consciousness mingled with that particular crow’s consciousness. Maybe the desires of my heart mingled with the heart of a crow. Maybe consciousness is a vast energy that is God, and there is really no separation between our consciousness and all of nature’s. Maybe a human’s consciousness can mingle with a bird’s consciousness.  And to take it a step further, maybe it was the crow’s consciousness that quickened my own heart.  Maybe the crow initiated the desire for me to befriend it?  It’s the ‘what came first’ quandary …the chicken or the egg; and in this case, the crow or the human being? This is a mystery I love to dance with in my quiet moments in my garden.

COHABITATING WITH THE BIRDS.

December 10,2025

I’ve lived here for over 20 years with my husband Larry. The first nearly 15 years we had a Bengal cat named Luna who was a master hunter. I even witnessed her leap and nearly catch a hummingbird one summer. She’d proudly bring me little animals (unharmed baby bunny rabbit, or chipmunk or even a bird). I didn’t want to risk a baby bird falling out of a birdhouse and it becoming a delightful toy or meal for Luna.  And I didn’t trust her desire to leap to the birdfeeder as a chickadee fed on sunflower seeds. So, I never bothered inviting birds into my gardens. Luna reigned supreme. It was her kingdom.

Luna died at the age of 19 a few years ago. So, this past spring of 2025, I finally realized that there was nothing stopping me from creating a bird sanctuary so up went the bird feeders. Suet cages hang strategically. Bird feeders for sunflower seeds and a variety of smaller seeds are hanging in my gardens. I have several bird feeders hanging throughout my front yard. Birds of all types and species gather. The morning doves prefer to pick up scattered seeds on the ground below the feeders. There are the exquisite and charming cardinals and the loud and proud blue jays. The woodpeckers (of all sizes) would devour the giant suet if left to their own resources.

I began purchasing a type of suet with cayenne pepper as a way of discouraging the always ravenous squirrels from competing with the birds for it. I didn’t know that the birds don’t have the taste buds to be bothered by the pepper. But squirrels do. And, oh do the squirrels disrupt my bird watching. My husband had purchased a water gun for my grandson that summer and we began using that to scare off the squirrels who tried to claim ownership of the birdfeeders. The stream of water reached over 20 feet and the sound was startling. It worked to scare the rascals away, but it was a constant battle. The battling dragged out all Spring and into the summer, but it appeared that by the fall of 2025 that we had won that war. (at least for the moment).

I began adding a cupful of seeds to my windowsill that summer as well and was thrilled when the birds began lighting upon the sill for breakfast every day. Now they live by the dozens in the azalea bush and winter jasmine in front of my bedroom. It reminds me of a sort of bird condominium. It’s a great life for them. They have reliable security and sanctuary in the bushes and a reliable food source in the mornings. A variety of sparrows can be fairly noisy when the sun come up in summer.  But it’s so much more charming than an alarm clock. I can hear there back and forth chatter from the bushes when they awaken and the half awake me knows that dawn has arrived.

Usually one of them will begin a demanding ‘chirp’ on the rhodadendren bush limb. Its my cue. My new alarm clock. They are ready for me to pour a cup of their birdseed on the windowsill. They have me well trained. They come get their breakfast and then return to their bush or fly around and do what birds do and return at nightfall to their safe space. It’s like we are now cohabitating and I love every minute of it.

ENTER MY CROW

December 26, 2025

Maybe the crow was trying to get my attention and my friendship.  Maybe it had been observing from it’s perch in a high branch the array of free food all over my yard and wanted a piece of the action.  Or maybe it simply wanted my friendship, and it left me the penny to capture my attention.

It was a 1993 penny that sat on the 6 inch stone windowsill outside my bedroom. The Monday morning it showed up followed a dream I had the night before. I dreamt that there was a female cardinal on a fence railing sitting beside a crow.  I put out my hand and the smaller bird hopped onto my palm. The crow sat there and let me pet it on its head for a bit before it flew off.  A sparrow chirped me to the window sill on the Monday morning as I awakened from that dream.  And there was the penny.

That penny altered my life in a delightfully charming way.  It blossomed my attentiveness to the birds in my yard into something lovelier and so much fun.  My husband and I get so much joy now watching the array of birds outside our kitchen window as we drink our morning coffees.  We have a beautiful red maple directly in front of our kitchen window with bird feeders and even birdhouses.  It’s become our morning ( and daily) entertainment. We’re both now ‘semi-retired. Maybe that has given us the pleasure of taking a deeper breath of life and enjoy what God provides in ways we took for granted before. There is joy in ‘slowing down’.

I began doing some internet research about crows and learned, amongst other things, that they love dog kibble.   I have a dog, Angus. He’s a sweet Scottish terrier/ schnauzer mix. He didn’t seem to mind my stealing a cup of his kibble each morning to feed my new friends. Although, he’s totally curious as to where I’m going with his dog food each morning. After I feed him I’ll scoop up more kibble and carry it outside. He gives a single bark as I close the door behind me and head to the stone bench that I’ve allocated for the crow’s new meal location.

I began placing the scoop of kibble on a stone bench in my front garden near the street.  That has become their spot for their daily buffet.

I can tell when they are near, because they are so loud.  Loud means that you can hear them when they are blocks away…and really loud when they are either hovering over my yard or close by in my neighbors yard.  We are learning each other…me and my crow.

WHO’S TRAINING WHO?

A pattern has developed between me and my crow (or my crow family).  I know it’s the same crow (and it’s partner or spouse) because they come in two’s.  I can hear the caw-caw nearby so I know its calling me letting me know it’s near. It’s becoming a daily ritual. I put a cupful of kibble on the bench.  Sometimes I add a handful of shelled peanuts or organic cherrioes, or even stale sourdough bread that I soaked a bit ahead of time to soften it. I’ve begun to do my own human ‘caw-caw’ back to them.  I’ve no doubt that my neighbors who actually witness me doing this have concluded that that gray haired old lady is nut job, but I don’t care.  I am having way too much fun creating this interactive dance with my crows. There’s is some benefit to being my age. There’s a deeper appreciating for what matters in this life. Like as we age we’re given access to a deeper knowing of why we are here on this earth. And what other people think of us simply takes a back sit to living God’s life to its fullest.

Once the food is on the stone bench in my garden my ‘job’ is done. I usually go back to my kitchen and watch from my window with my morning coffee in hand. Nine times out of ten, my crow will  appear within 3-5 minutes for it’s breakfast! At this point, I don’t know if its me training them or they are training me, and there again, I don’t care.  There is such levity in dancing with nature.

One day, my beautiful black beauty appeared and he was joined by his partner within moments.  Usually It’s the one at first who lands on the ground by the stone bench.  He bobbed his head a bit which looks like he’s peeking to see whats on the bench, or simply deciding if he wants to eat.  He called out to his partner with his Caw-Caw. Sometimes in a twin staccato and sometimes a three.  Its so obvious he was calling to his mate. She showed up within minutes and landed on the street beside the bench.

They both jumped up and began pecking at the peanuts.  This was the first time I used peanuts mixed with the kibble.  He took one peanut and flew across the street to my neighbor’s roof.  He worked his way down to the rain gutter and it looked like he was pecking at the rain gutter. The other crow pecked at the food on the bench and flew across the street to the grass and pecked at the grass. They came back to the bench and repeated the same pattern. I asked my husband to google if crows store food for winter like squirrels do.

Sure enough they do!  They’re known to hide their food in rain gutters and other places.  Often they will try to deceive any observing predators by making it look like they are burying their loot somewhere else (like the ground) and then hide it somewhere else.  I saw the one crow peck at the ground and then fly to the top of a narrow evergreen. It poked around at the top, which swayed by the weight of the crow.  I suspected that it was hiding its peanut in a nest at the top of the evergreen.

One morning I had a piece of sourdough toast that had become hard sitting on my counter for a day.  I softened it a bit with water and broke it into smaller pieces.  I was stunned to catch a peek at my crow dunking the bread into the bird bath water to soften it up to make it more edible.

Another morning I watched the 2 crows at their stone bench buffet. I could feel their enthusiasm across the yard. They were loving the peanuts I added with their feast that morning. A couple of houses down I saw a handful of other crows ‘shouting’ at them and swooping closer to my yard. My 2 crows flew over to my neighbors tree and were screaming back at the other newcomers. It was clear to me that they were letting them know, in no uncertain terms, that this feast belonged to them! After about 10 minutes the other crows flew away, and ‘my crows’ got back to work on what they had claimed as their own. I do love my crows.

One of the charming things I notice is that they are not greedy. They may want to stake their claim on ‘their’ food, but most days they leave some behind for other scavengers. A passing crow, or cat..or the nocturnal racoon. I know its a raccoon because in the mornings all the food will be gone and a small turd is left behind to mark its own territory.

THE BOULDER: A GLORY STORY

Crowd gathers by roadside with police officer present, some holding umbrellas and bags.

Apparently, what had happened was this boulder tumbled from the cliff above, hit the rail tracks, damaged the electric cable that runs along the tracks, broke through the iron railing and landed onto the expressway. There were other rocks and smaller boulders on the track in front of the train which is why the train had stopped. There were no first responders there yet. This had occurred somewhere within 15-20 minutes of our arrival (It could have been seconds…I’ll never know for sure).

All I know is that our train was spared the impact that would have devastated the lives of everyone on board. And miraculously, it didn’t hit any car or kill anyone on the road below. It just sat their ‘innocently’ in the right lane of this 2 lane highway heading south. Some cars were stopped, with stunned drivers staring at the massive size of it. Others slowly drove around it and continued on their way.

THE AFTERMATH

On the train we began milling around the aisle. Travelers began talking to each other in wonder of what was happening. A baby cried in some rows away from us. The conductor shut off all power on the train which caused the inside to become immediately stuffy. One woman yelled “we’re all going to suffocate in here!!” Others tried to calm her down. But overall, most remained calm and curious.

If that boulder made impact with our train it would have, without a doubt, caused it to derail. A derailment of a train of 6 cars would have pulled the entire train down the 30 ft drop to the expressway below. It would have been a global news event. I found out later that the week prior to our arrival, it had rained ALOT! The Lake Como region had so much rain that there were mudslides as well as flooding. Its probable that all the rain had loosened the boulder’s stability on the cliff above. This makes me think about the potential hazard we were still in as we waited on the train for evacuation. We also milled around on the road just below the train for another nearly 1 hour.

The firetruck used their extension ladder with bucket to carry each and every passenger from the train track down to the expressway. We would get into the ‘bucket’ 1-2 people at a time. To watch Chris, ease himself ever so careful, full leg brace and all, into the bucket was a sight to behold. He stood 5-6 inches above the 2 fireman in the bucket with him. Luggage was brought down to waiting owners one at a time. With some back and forth and confusion I manage to get Chris into the ambulance to rest and elevate his leg. We put ice packs on his knee which was becoming swollen which concerned me a great deal.

It appears to me that in Italy, no one is in charge…and everyone is in charge. Between the firemen, the police and the ambulance drivers and eventual bus drivers, it was chaotic. Maybe it was an organized chaos. All I now is that we were all in harms way if more boulders and rocks came loose from above. The process of evacuating everyone and getting us to a safer location about 1/4 mile away (which we had to walk to) took over an hour. Was it the grace of God that kept the cliff intact enough so that no other boulders were dislodged by the gap left behind by the first boulder? We were essentially sitting ducks during that nearly 2 hours. . I guess we’ll never know, and by faith, I choose to believe it was the grace of God that kept us safe.

Firefighters rescuing a person using a metal cage on a mountainside.

In the end, they managed to acquire 2 busses to transport us to the next train station so we could be on our way. I managed to get Chris a front row seat so we could stretch out his leg (no easy task when you don’t speak the same language as the rescue squad).

It was a phenomenal event which we can look back on as an adventure (because there was no tragedy that resulted). But more than anything this was a glory God moment. God heard my prayer for Larry and me to be a blessing to ‘anyone we came upon’ during our trip. And God heard the prayers for safety and protection from “any attack of the enemy” by my prayer warriors. The boulder could have fallen at the moment of our passing that exact spot, but it didn’t. Lives were saved on that day.

I’ll never know what might have happened on the Sept 28th 12:20pm train to Colico if Larry and I had not been on that train. All I do know is that if this were an an ‘attack of the enemy’; we were all shielded by the protection of Christ.

Healing the Wounds

I underwent nearly 15 years of psychotherapy in my journey on this earth.   Not all at one time, but over a period of 30 years or so.  I had trauma as many do.  I was broken within as many are.   There were psychic and emotional wounds.  I had a story that I published (Holy Love: A Memoir of Sorrow to Glory/on amazon). We all have a story.

The psychotherapy journey was useful in helping me to ‘tame’ and cognitively manage my reactions to life (to a degree).  Psychotherapy helped me to better understand myself and the filter through which I danced with life.  My relationships benefited somewhat. But, beyond a certain point I realized that ongoing psychotherapy was like mental masturbation.  That’s what I referred to it as because there was a pleasure and a near addiction to rewording and revisiting old and new wounds.

In 2009, when I discovered the gift that Jesus Christ offered me, I relinquished my attachment to my own story and the dramas I suffered and continued to fuel.  I ‘surrendered’ as many refer to this as.  This surrender allowed the Holy Spirit to step in and guide me as I journeyed on.

The wounds we experience and imprint into our souls always remain in darkened spaces within.  The aftermath of those wounds: the false thought outcomes, the dysfunctional (or not optimum) patterns of behavior, the incorrect conclusions about ourselves that influence our behavior and negatively impact our relationships; are all available for us to tame, should we choose to.  We have been blessed with a will so we can make the choice to turn to Christ as our holy counselor, and harness our will with His assistance to tame the beast, so to speak.

When I speak of ‘healing the wounds’ or ‘healing the lies’, I am in no way suggesting that this ‘healing’ means they dissolve and vanish from existence.  Healing does not offer us a spiritual ‘lobotomy’ of sorts, so that its as if they traumas and hurts never occurred and we no longer have scars.   We have memory.  We have recall as long as our brains are functioning. 

What healing may actually mean is that we have seen the lies.  We have gazed into that heart of darkness in our souls.  We can direct the cleansing light into the dark and we know where the enemy lurks.  It’s like looking into the eyes of the enemy and no longer contracting or cowering from its power.  With the strength of Christ within we can stand firm and defeat that enemy.  With Christ within we can subdue the enemy’s compulsion to resurrect itself and lash out at our psyche and control our minds and behavior.  With Christ within our hearts we can tame those errors in our thinking, so that we are in control of them rather than them being in control of us.      

You can learn more about my healing journey and the gift that Jesus offers on my book’s website www.jesmith-author.net.               

TRUST

JULY 6, 2021
TRUST
Sometimes I feel like I’m holding a little bird

Fragile yet certain.

Melding into my palm…delicate and restless.

Lucas is slowly sealing within himself the foundation of trust.

He allows me to stroke his satin skin and fine growing hair.

He slowly surrenders to slumber in my arms.

Head against my chest.

He is learning love.

Trust…once it permanently etches itself into his soul will allow him to learn to build

friendships and deeper relationships.

Yes, he will have to learn how to discern these relationships over his lifetime.

But for now, he simply receives the love of his family.

Sweet and indelible.

What a miracle to watch God’s plan in sweet slow-motion snippets of time.