Why Not Mama?

“I do believe in an everyday sort of magic—the inexplicable connectedness we sometimes experience with places, people, works of art and the like; the eerie appropriateness of moments of synchronicity; the whispered voice, the hidden presence, when we think we’re alone.”
— Charles de Lint

Constance…what a great quote.

NOW:  here is Charissa’s lil pea brain whirling round and round:  there is a sweet and awe inspiring privilege in being caught up in this mystery, awake.  And there is no loss, is there, if that is all we have…that connectedness inexplicable and synchronicitous. If there is only that, when we die we will be glad for it and made the richer as we found courage to dive in to the Mystery, the Mystic, the Hidden and the Made Known Without Words.

But my Q:  Why is there such resistance to the idea that there would be a Personal God, Infinite in power and presence and horribly wonderfully finite in its involvement with us…and that God is so personal that it chooses to manifest itself in 3 persons, so as to be available to everyone of us…and then in that availability and pursuit, in that Quest for communion with us more arduous than lovers, why cannot They be the magic, the connectedness, the whispered voice, the presence?

I have never met anyone with a problem with the God who talks to me…literally.  Either they love Her-Him-Him, or they think my God is just part of me, but a creative and wonderful and fairy-tale ought to be sort of “Charissa Imagination”.

Every person I have met who has a problem with God has been raped and abused and dehumanized by a god presented by evil people wearing masks and a name that their heart violently murders in each beat.

Constance…would you do a favor for me?  Would you read the quote, and then imagine, what if God was just like that, and would talk with you, dialogue with you, listen to you, and then connect you with magic?

What if….

….well, then you would have met my Mama…my beautiful and wonderful blessed Mama Holy Spirit.

Deepest love, and written in tender crushed pain right now but bleeding gratefulness to Mama, who loves me




8 thoughts on “Why Not Mama?

    • Thanks GK…might I ask you to opine on your own blog your take as to how people are seeing these issues? I think that given your position in the south and exposure to a culture so different in so many ways, you might be in a place to contribute to the efforts of paradigm transformation that is one of the great works of our time.

      • Wow! My dear friend (just so you know I have a whole lot of notices of your work since the middle of Sept that I will read in the next few days and make comments on because i find your work such a compelling and wonderful read.

        Let me put some thought in to your request and try to do what you ask. Please remind me to do it again if I haven’t attempted to do it soon. You write so much better than i do that i know i wont be able to do it justice, not like you do! ((((((((hug))))))))))

      • You know what? As I think about courtesy of your fine mind, there is a lot I can write on this, at least 2 or more posts! You are soo cool!

  1. I adore that quote! And I believe that God does speak to us that way. I really do. I believe in that magic.

    I’m hurting with you, throughout all of this, wishing we were closer in proximity.

  2. I told my divorce care leader/therapist/Christian counselor about my connection to Them (Her/Him/Him) that just IS and was from my earliest memories and self awareness, a connection I’ve had to fight like hell, lose everything and die in order to recover as an adult. He sees Them too. We use different words and labels to dance around what is Real, but we recognize it individually and in each other. What is Real can neither be captured and defined by our words nor diminished in any way by them.

    So why not Mama? She is the One I first recognized and with whom I intimately bonded before I had any words. She has always been the One manifesting in Reality, touching and speaking with a wry smile even as the Deceiver lured me away from my innate Knowing to relate to her as “Lord” and “Master.” She never was not Mama regardless of my perception. It was always Mama who was the Presence in the blackest Nothing.

    THEY seem to manifest together in the celebration/feasting times, which have been very few and far between in my life. Father prepares the feast with great pride and waits for my arrival. Jesus, The Man who knows my suffering and gave the invitation to follow him through it, is present as the Way. But it has always been Mama. Always.

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