She missed everything about him, from the bonds of love and trust they had shared to his strong support of her chosen path. She enjoyed the debates he would engage her in, knowing they helped to define and strengthen her confidence in herself and in her faith. She remembered the day she became a Professor at the University with him, he had been so proud of her. She had wanted so badly to live up to his belief in her. His encouragement to remain true to her ideals was unwavering.
He used to say, "Emma, you are a special woman and it will be your destiny to speak for all that is feminine from our sacred Mother Earth to the lowliest baby girl. Your gift will flourish and you will make a difference."
She used to laugh at him, but she knew in her heart that he was right about her feelings towards the treatment of women. He had such a clever way of tying together the plight and challenges all women face including our Earthly Mother. He would say, "She responds and bounces back passionately, each and every day, never questioning always showing unconditional love but remaining silent, only her scars would show and if she had a voice would anyone listen to her? Would anyone take up her cause before it was too late?"
As she matured she continued to grow stronger in her desire to make a difference to those who needed her help. Never questioning her own faith, she was confident in her ability to offer her insight and wisdom to those who questioned theirs. Always struggling to maintain her beliefs in a positive way, continually questioned world religion's points of view, their religious dogmas, rules, and ideologies where it concerned women's rights and leadership roles within the church.
Although some religious denominations were allowing more women to take on what were traditionally men's roles, they were not progressing fast enough she believed.
Lately, she had been feeling a strange ache gripping her heart as if something or someone were crying out for help but she could not hear them. She turned inward to try to understand. Her eyes closed, her breathing slowed and she allowed herself to drift opening her mind to random thoughts, and within her meditation, her spirituality flourished.
Words filled her mind, "You see with your eyes but you fail to see that which is there before you, the scars she bares. You hear with ears given to you by God but you do not hear the cries. Your voice is still when it should be shouting to the heavens for all to hear. There is one silently weeping alone, but you fail to see or hear or acknowledge. She is the one who is the greatest gift to humanity's future, one that nurtures all and provides all we need to survive. Our Earthly Mother who cares for all of humankind, her destiny is the love of planet earth and all life that shares it.
“Even now, the back of our Earthly Mother bends with the weight of the abuse and mistreatment humanity inflicts on her and yet, your voice still remains silent, do you not realize eventually there must be a tipping point she may not be able to come back from?
“If you don't change before your earthly population outgrows the planet, it may be too late for our Earthly Mother. You must also promote changes to protect our planet from humanity's ravages.
“Why do you continue to be silent?
“Your loving father has bestowed you with His gifts. It is your right and duty to be the voice for those who cannot speak for themselves.
“Do not turn away from the challenges and there will be many but embrace them with wisdom and patience. Many will join with you but many will scorn you. Be forever strong in your ideals. I believe in you."
The words slowly faded away, her mind was calm, and her heart was clear. The ache was no longer.
She continued to sit in the dark and think. Her mind rested on the Messengers as predicted by the mysterious voice. Who were they and why would they come now? Did her strange message have anything to do with it?
The one story that intrigued her most was of a young twelve-year old girl living in a leper colony. She seemed to be able to heal the sick by repeating a mantra she learned from a local Priest.
This seemed so incredible and coming at a time most desperately needed in a world so full of atrocities against women and young girls, those who were innocent and unable to protect themselves.
Stories such as these may be the very thing that convinces churches finally to do the right thing. Appoint women to the highest forms of religious offices just like men. Allow women to have a voice and not remain silent any longer.
If true equality is to flourish in all things, then this should provide the church an opportunity to offer itself up as a leader and encourage equal status to take place. After all, women were now attaining some of the highest forms of office in many parts of the world. They hold positions as Presidents of major international companies; they're judges, lawyers, doctors, scientists and politicians. Some even have the responsibility of leading entire countries. A long time had passed since women first attained voting rights and it was now time for Churches to recognize the influence and competence of women.
As she sat in the quiet of the late night, a parable her husband used to recite came to her. Funny she mused, she hadn't thought of it in many years but it seemed strangely relevant to the circumstances.
He’d say, “All life on the planet needs three things in order to exist: sunlight, air and water; and God gave these three gifts as Angels to our Earthly Mother. If you take away any one of these gifts, humankind could not survive. We are but caregivers to our Earthly Mother and her Angels, the healer of our bodies. She has provided for all forms of life to live, grow and survive, even for those few rare extraordinary organisms that live and survive in total darkness never seeing daylight.
“A sacred responsibility bestowed upon us has yet to be recognized and truly understood as humanity continues to take away from one another. It destroys and takes the very life from its mother.
“Just like the ancient oak tree whose deeply embedded roots are within our Earthly Mother and its branches, which reach up to our heavenly father symbolically representing the tree of life, humankind must be as the mighty oak, connected to both.
“Our heavenly father created life but our nurturing comes through our Earthly Mother.”
Her thoughts drifted to her son, how he used to enjoy listening to his father. He had that way of pulling you into his stories like reading a book you can't put down, turning page after page hoping it never ends because you've become the story.
Her son must have quite a library of these parables that he learned growing up. She must remember to share this new parable with him.
As she sat in the darkness, it occurred to her that she hadn't talked to him in a while.
"I wonder if I should call him tomorrow." A wave of loneliness crept over her and she knew she needed to see him instead.
She emailed him to let him know she needed to see him and would like to drive up on Saturday morning. Would he be free to spend some time with her? She hit the send button and then feeling less sad, she crawled into bed and fell into a deep sleep.
Parable - Lesson 2
"The Tree of Life"
The tiny acorn bounced as it reached the fertile land, coming to rest on a small hill gently sloping down towards a clear running stream. The sun warm and nurturing, a tiny root of life began to protrude. The earth gathered it in and provided nutrients, coaxing it to flourish and as it grew it became stronger, giving back to the earth, it's cooling cover providing shelter and food for other new life. Eventually a forest grew from this one tiny acorn. Many hundreds of years passed and this tiny stick of life grew to be a mighty oak, strong and firm, only taking what it needed of the resources offered to it. Just enough rays of sunlight to keep it warm and sipping of the sweet water to keep it strong and in return giving back oxygen so other life could flourish as well.
Time moved forward, as did the progress of humanity. It started with one small family who came upon the mighty oak. They looked up, found the height and width of the canopy pleasing, and built a small cottage where they could enjoy its beauty. They too took from the stream only what they needed to sustain th
em and shared the serenity of the world with the living world around them.
Soon more families came and progress came with them. They cut down the oak forest to plant crops and build their homes, and they dug trenches from the stream to supply water to their crops. They built large factories to produce materials to make life better and all was good.
Soon the stream turned to a trickle, the crops shrivelled and the ground turned brown and barren. The sky turned hazy, the people could no longer breathe the fresh oxygen from the remaining mighty oak and the heat from the sunlight faded.
The people looked about them and with a shake of their heads, they moved on.
The factories now stood alone, neglected, blocking out the healing sunlight, the grounds cleared of the oak forest now lay scarred and barren.
Behind them the once mighty oak stood slowly dying, its leaves turning to dust and blowing along in the breeze, the once clear sweet waters that used to nourish it now just a muddy sludge, unable to save the lives that used to rely on it.
Although everything originated from our Heavenly Father...
...all of humankind is born from an Earthly Mother.
Many of us do change from our past, many of us are not the same thinking people we once were, and no matter how hard we would like to make it happen, we cannot go back and change the wrongdoings of our past.
If we truly believe in our Heavenly Father, our Earthly Mother, each other, and ourselves, we can atone for our wrongs.
To have a strong spiritual belief in whatever our faiths might be and not to give up in our search for wisdom and knowledge on things that seem unexplainable. Continue to move forward, challenge our status-quo beliefs, and never give up on our dreams, setting realistic goals to achieve them.
Remember deep within our individual thinking, to make the best of today, and on each-and-every day strive to be,
"Better than we used to be".
...and share in these prayers
"Lord's Prayer"
Our father who art in Heaven, Hallowed be thy name;
Thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in Heaven;
Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our wrongs,
As we forgive those who do wrong against us.
Lead us not into temptation, and deliver us from evil,
for thine is the Kingdom, and the power and glory,
Forever and ever...
Amen
********
"Prayer to our Earthly Mother"
Our mother which art upon earth, Hallowed be thy name;
Thy kingdom come, thy will be done in us as it is in thee.
As thou sendest every day thy angels, send them to us also.
Forgive us our wrongs, as we atone for all our wrongs against thee,
and lead us not into sickness, but deliver us from all evil,
for thine is the Earth, the Body, and the Health.
Amen
Chapter 16
The squad room was alive with activity. Phones were ringing and keyboards were clacking as busy detectives dealt with their case files. Murphy held tight to the two takeout coffee cups as he made his way through the congested pattern of desks. He handed one of the cups to Jack as he sat down at his own desk. The papers piled neatly in stacks in front of him. He looked over at Jack's desk, at the scattered papers, files and half-empty cups littering his desk. There wasn't a trace of the battered wood desktop, which presumably supported the clutter.
"How can you work in that?" He gestured to the mess.
"Hey, I know where everything is. You know what they say, 'Bless This Mess'. I guess I can't get any more blessed than this?" He waved his cup over the papers.
"Take this for example," He reached down and picked up a report, "This is the fingerprint report from the credit union."
He put down the coffee and flipped through the pages. "Says the only prints on the safe are those of the staff and the guard's gun just has his and some smudged prints, pretty much what we expected. Hold on, this may be a break, the robber's gun itself just had smudged prints but the lab was able to get a partial fingerprint on one of the bullets in the cylinder and it matches someone in the databank."
"Really, who?" Murphy sat up straight.
"Name of Jonathan 'Johnny' Strickland, seems he applied to be a security guard a few years back. We took his prints but there's been no activity on the file." Jack accessed his computer, pulled up the driver's licence for Jonathan Strickland, and printed it off.
"Do we have a current address on him?" Murphy asked.
"We have the old one from the application and it matches the one on his driver's licence as well. It's worth a try," Jack responded.
"Let's go," Murphy got to his feet and grabbed his coffee, "Let's take your car. I'm too tired to drive."
They pulled up before a tired old bungalow in a tired old neighbourhood. The once bright blue paint had long since faded to a dirty grey and most of that now worn off by weather and neglect. The yard had not fared much better. The patchy yellow grass was overgrown and badly in need of some water. Neglected children's toys and a boy's bike lay abandoned on the front lawn. The little picket fence gate lay open, twisted, and unusable, the hinges rusted and seized in place barely holding to the post.
They carefully made their way to the front door and knocked.
A petite young woman came to the door. She had pulled her hair back into a clip but much of it had come out and hung limply around the long thin face. She looked as tired as the house.
Murphy held up his shield. "I'm looking for Johnny Strickland. Is he home?"
The woman's face turned ashen and she looked like she was going to faint.
"Are you okay miss? Do you want to sit down?" Murphy reached over, took her gently by the arm, and guided her into the house, to the nearest chair. He glanced around the room as he waited for her to catch her breath. It was amazingly clean and neat. The furniture was old but she had obviously taken a lot of time to make it look presentable and comfortable.
"I'm fine now. What do you want Johnny for?" she asked them.
"Are you Mrs. Strickland?" Murphy asked her.
She nodded. "I'm Amanda Strickland."
"We just need to ask him some questions. Is he around?" Murphy asked.
She shook her head. "He left yesterday morning for a job interview and didn't come home last night. I don't know where he is. When I saw your badge, I thought you were going to tell me something had happened to him. Do you know where he is, I'm really worried about him?" Her big eyes begged him for information.
"I'm afraid I don't. We need to talk to him about his movements yesterday. You said he was going to a job interview. Do you know where?" Murphy asked.
Jack quietly slipped a pad from his inner pocket and began to take notes.
"He just said it was for some kind of a security guard job, but he seemed really nervous. It's been awhile since he had any interviews. Has Johnny done something wrong?" she asked.
"We're just following up on some leads on one of our cases and we think Johnny may be able to help us." He stood up and handed her a card. "You mentioned Johnny didn't come home last night, has he tried to contact you?"
"No he hasn't," Amanda replied.
"I have to ask you, do you have a recent picture of Johnny?" Murphy asked.
Without a word, she reached behind the couch to a small table. She picked up a picture frame and handed it over. "That was taken not that long ago."
It showed a much happier time. The woman before them was smiling prettily into the camera and beside her stood a tall young man with his arm around her waist, smiling down at her.
"May I borrow this? It will be returned to you," Murphy asked.
She hesitated, but nodded, realizing it was more of a formality than a request. Her heart sank knowing that the police would not have asked her for a photo of Johnny unless he had done something wrong.
As they made their way to the door Murphy had a questio
n that kept nagging at him, "Do you have any children Mrs. Strickland?"
"We have one boy, Cooper." Her eyes dropped to her feet.
"Where is he? Does he go to school?" Murphy asked in a quiet voice.
She shook her head and her hand trembled as she reached for the doorknob. "He's in the hospital. He has cancer. If you have no more questions I need to get ready to go see him." She yanked the door open and stepped back so they could leave.
"I'm sorry Mrs. Strickland," Murphy said apologetically.
"Me too," she replied as she closed the door firmly on them.
Jack looked over at Murphy. "Why would you ask her that?"
"The toys in the yard, just a hunch I guess. However, good reasons to commit a robbery don’t you think, a sick kid and no job. How do you pay for treatment?" Murphy replied.
They got back into the car and pulled away from the curb just as Murphy's cell phone rang.
Murphy turned to Jack and reported, "That was dispatch; they found a car two blocks from the credit union and guess who it was registered in the name of?"
"Let me guess, our ghost?" Jack replied with a wry smile.