One God, One Creator, many views

"To clasp the hands in prayer is the beginning of an uprising against the disorder of the world." Karl Barth died today in 1968.

I came cloud walking through empty hallways, past moonlit windows, wrapped against the cold of night, because I heard a voice calling softly, because I knew I was needed. I sent my prayer hours ago, out over a sleeping world, through miles of imagined distance, to find you where you are waiting, waiting for an answer. Be comforted, the prayer said, be at peace in mind and heart. Someone sits through the night with you, someone keeps the watch unseen beside you. I heard you calling in the night, though you never spoke a word or even knew my name. Steve Charleston, Episcopal Bishop, Choctaw

Posted to today in Facebook by Shanti Maa Peace Mother Geeta Sacred Song - Mayan Shaman

OUR LADY OF GUADALUPE (VIRGEN DE GUADALUPE)
Feast Day: December 12, 2012

"Hear me and understand well, my son the least, that nothing should frighten or grieve you. Let not your heart be disturbed. Do not fear that sickness, nor any other sickness or anguish. Am I not here, who is your Mother? Are you not under my protection? Am I not your health? Are you not happily within my fold? What else do you wish? Do not grieve nor be disturbed by anything."
— Our Lady to Juan Diego

The celebration of Our Lady of Guadalupe takes place Wednesday December 12, 2012. While most people associate this feast with Hispanic customs and celebrations, it’s important to remember that Our Lady, under the title of Guadalupe, is the Patroness of the Americas! She is an aspect of Divine Mother who belongs to every community and every culture!

In the winter of 1531, a poor, 57-year-old Aztec Indian living five miles outside of Mexico City encountered a miraculous happening on his way to morning Mass. First he heard strange music coming from Tepeyac Hill, and then he heard a woman's voice calling his name. Juan Diego climbed the hill and encountered a young woman, appearing to be of his own people in physical appearance and dress. The woman identified herself as the Virgin Mary, and told Juan Diego to ask the bishop of Mexico City to build a church on the hill to assist in the conversion of the nation and be a source of consolation to the people.

Juan Diego obeyed the request, but the bishop was skeptical regarding the message, even though he perceived that Juan was a humble and well meaning Catholic. Juan reported the bishop's doubt to Our Lady at Tepeyac Hill, and she asked him to return to the bishop once again, bearing the same message. The bishop once again heard the story, and told Juan Diego to ask Our Lady for a sign that it was indeed herself that wished for the church to be built.

When he returned to the hill, Mary gave Juan Diego such a sign. Miraculously, roses appeared on the hill in the middle of winter, and Juan gathered them in his tilma, or cloak. Our Lady arranged the roses in his tilma with her own hands, and Juan returned to the bishop's presence. When Juan released the tilma, allowing the flowers to fall to the floor, it was revealed that a miraculous image of Our Lady had imprinted itself on his tilma (see above).

The bishop immediately fell to his knees, and came to believe in Juan Diego's message. A church was built on the spot of the apparition, as Mary had requested, and 8 million people converted to Catholicism in a short period of time upon hearing of or viewing the miraculous image of Our Lady.

The tilma of Juan Diego has been the subject of much modern research. The tilma, woven out of coarse cactus fiber, should have disintegrated after 20 years, but although over 500 years have passed the tilma is still in perfect condition. The pupils of Mary in the picture reflect the Indians and clergy present at the time of the first revelation of the image. No paint was used, and chemical analysis has not been able to identify the color imprint. Additionally, studies have revealed that the stars on Mary's mantle match exactly what a Mexican would have seen in the sky in December of 1531.

I fly high above the mountains riding on the swift air currents,
gently gliding without a ripple on the lake of the sky.

The warmth of the sun penetrates my powerful body
and warms my beating heart as the cool and refreshing air rushes at 

every motion of my wings.

Higher and higher I fly, the light misty clouds surround me,
enveloping my very being, guided only by the thermals of the heart.

Higher and higher I fly, what is behind me is now gone,
but the clarity of what is above and below me pierces my soul with vibrance.

I ascend to the stars on the great wings of love.

Hanoochi: A Stars Poetry Collection
Original prayer/poem by Hanoochi ©

"The voice of one crying out in the wilderness:

'Prepare the way of the Lord,

make his paths straight.

Every valley shall be filled,

and every mountain and hill shall be made low,

and the crooked shall be made straight,

and the rough ways made smooth;

and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.'"

~from Luke 3:1-6 the words of the prophet Isaiah  (Advent 2012)