Keep In Touch

 

I watched something yesterday that stayed with me. A YouTube video that described the everyday activities of an old woman living in the Carpathian Mountains. Compared to how I live, this all appeared to be a hard-scrabble life. There was poverty. She was older, and because of that, the normal stuff she did took longer. Getting up out of bed. Allowing her old bones to settle before getting up out of bed.

Part of her waking routine was to have a quick word with God. I suppose it was God. It could have been Jesus. She would make the sign of the cross several times, pausing to kiss a holy medallion she wore about her neck. I can remember other people doing that as I grew up, but the kissing part was rare. We couldn’t hear what she said in the video, but I saw her lips moving. So, a prayer? Maybe.

Her day commenced. It took her forever to get dressed. That happens when you’re older. They said in the description that she was in her 80s. That’s not much older than I am, but I don’t live in poverty or work as hard as she still does. Granted, I don’t get out to do chores like feeding the chickens, but I am mobile. Her chickens seemed to murmur as she greeted them, opening the coop doors to allow them access to bugs in the yard.

In the film, she decided to go to the market. Somebody came to give her a ride. We never learned who it was; a neighbor? Her son? All I know is that after she struggled to get into the back seat, she started praying, drawing the sign of the cross several times, and trying to kiss her medallion as the car jerked forward and bumped along the way to the market. All the while she was holding onto the strap in the car for dear life. It seemed to me that she might be terrified, although whether it was the car, the bumpy road, or her driver, I couldn’t tell.

At the market she bought a few things. It was a farmer’s market, all out in the open. We’ve all probably been to one sometime or other. She even bought some chickens. The guy who gave her a ride came to help her load the chickens in their cardboard box into the trunk of the car. She struggled her way into the back seat again, and once more, there was a flurry of getting settled in the seat, arranging her packages, saying prayers, kissing her medallion, and drawing the sign of the cross.

That’s when it hit me. She was staying in touch with God. These were outward, demonstrable signs of asking for help or of just being with God. Personally, though I am Catholic, I don’t do this. I do all of that silently if I need to. But what it did was make me wonder how a person could keep in contact with God if they wanted to. There’s no charge for it. You actually don’t have to get dressed up. You don’t have to wait for church.

I talk to Spirit all the time. It’s like I’ve got a headset on, and the conversations are ongoing with my Spirit Guide or with ordinary folk in Spirit. I rarely talk to God. Or to Jesus. Oh, I have to tell you a channeling funny. One time something happened that I didn’t like. I can’t even remember what it was. Maybe I spilled something. Like I said, I can’t remember. Anyway, I said, “Jesus!” Somebody in Spirit said, “What?”

If you believe in God, your God is not that far away. Just say hello every once in a while.

Thanks for reading. Come back for more. I write lots.

Pauline Evanosky
Where I Am