This was my bowl of Blessing Rocks. I wrote the following during my experience at an event where I brought this bowl, along with a good portion of my healing room, to serve those who attended the event:
Saturday journal entry:
This picture of my bowl of blessings is even more precious now. I’m so glad I took it. It’s gone—a symbol of how temporal everything but love is.
This rock bowl adorned my table in the expo at a recent event. For a number of reasons I couldn’t be at the table and knew there was some risk. It was a calculated risk. Not unlike this whole venture.
At a previous wellness fair I had three porcelain rocks with the words “hope”, “peace” and “love” on them. That day someone stole the “love” rock when I left my booth for just a moment while my neighbor watched my products. I figured someone must have really needed it.
This time I was at a faith-centric event and knew there was some risk of theft but hoped for the best. It made the table so much more inviting. When Barry went to clean up the table, he discovered the word-engraved rocks were missing and the beautiful spun glass heart was gone as well. I’d collected the rocks over many years, the most vividly beautiful ones on a mom-daughter date at Tahoe this year.
The heart was from my first getaway with dear girlfriends after Barry had re:covered from his near death heart attack. It was a symbol of life and love and trust. At first I accepted the loss rather casually realizing that it was my choice to let my treasures be vulnerable.
But then I noticed a small amount I’d had in my tip jar was also gone.
The loss slapped me by surprise. These weren’t even in the same location, the tip jar tucked way back in the meditation space upstairs, perhaps a foolish risk this time. I was tired and not sure what, if anything, was accomplished by being at the event. I looked at the bowl, largely now the color of dirt in grays and browns. All the most beautiful pieces were gone. But buried underneath the ordinary, literally a “heart of love” remained.
Two hours later:
A little time has passed. I’m a little less weary. I’ve had time to re:flect and re:fresh and re:member the lovely, love-filled moments of the weekend: seeing dear friends, meeting new ones, serving many with my healing touch work. A divine appointment materialized today—a deep and profound discussion with a fascinating servant leader who spoke a tremendous truth that will long resonate within me in regard to my healing gifts.
My work is very much about love. So reflecting back on my updated response to the question my much loved friend asked— Yes Karen, it was a lovely, love-filled day. Good night.
After a good night’s sleep I wanted to see the bowl in the light of day. Once again the love rock was buried under the others. However what had surfaced was “wisdom.” This one hand written in silver sharpie, was a stone of remembrance of my own, written long ago in some moment of discovery around the preciousness of wisdom. Something to remember at a later time when it was needed.
Today it appeared from among the leftover ordinary. Gratefulness for God’s gracious affirmation that I chose wisdom over anger. Wisdom over self-pity. Faith over fear. I don’t know why we attended this voluntary event that cost us what we have so little of right now—time and money. I don’t even know what fruit will come of my healing work or even how or if any of those I served in love might have received blessing or healing.
What I do know is I obeyed. What I do know is God still speaks if I know how to listen with my eyes and my heart through the lens of love and wisdom.
What I am discovering was what I selected as the theme of this event: The Energy of Words. The stolen rocks were: grace, dance, blessings, feel, strength, hope, peace, create. These cannot really be taken from me in any real sense if I choose to re:member.
Love never really leaves even if it appears hidden or lost. Re:member this.