Kati
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princess m | jane mulliken | audra | anon
Vision for healing
In July of 2000 our beloved friend and the Pastor of the church we were attending died suddenly of a heart attack.
I was on vacation and my husband called to share the news. I was sad though not surprised. My dreams had already made clear that this man’s current life was near its end and soon he would be making a transition. I was not sure how to speak to him of my knowing so instead I gave him a card and wrote a long letter for him on his birthday. I warned him to spend some time dealing with the pain he was feeling and to work on his feelings concerning his relationship with his mother. He had been in ill health for a while but refused to go to the doctor. I think he understood what I was trying to teach him because his last three sermons were on the HOLY SPIRIT (I believe the holy spirit is about female divinity-our mother/womb energy).
After the call came telling me of his transition I immediately started to pray. During my prayer time I begged the universe the help reassure me that my friend had made peace and had found ultimate healing. I also needed to know that everything would be all right with the transition of our group into a new church.
The answer came back quickly and the name given of whom would be the right leader made sense and I felt some relief. The truth is the universe will always answer me in many ways and the real question I had asked wasn’t even about the church-it was about healing-my own and how would I replace R and help bring healing to more men like him who had been abused as children… The answer came in a very vivid DREAM…
My dream began as a dream within a dream. My dream self started off being very aggravated because I had not been able to sleep for seven nights. I kept having a dream where I was trying to get into an underground tomb to save a crying infant boy. The dream would always end just as I found the way into the stone tomb.
Into the dream came the MISSIONARY asking about helpers for a mission trip to South America. I begged him to go. He said okay but only if I left my huge suitcase at home and could be ready to leave for the airport in one hour. I threw some water, a white nightgown and a shawl into a backpack and headed off to the airport with 12 male missionaries and myself.
We arrived at the airport and rode in a cart to this village in the Andes. All the men were wearing suits and I was in jeans and a white tank top. The villagers greeted us with joyful smiles and we were staying in this two-story monastery type building. From the village I could look up into the mountains and see this place that seemed so lonely and isolated. I asked the women of the village who lived in such an isolated place and they said in Spanish-La Casa de Los Ninos.
I wanted to go there immediately but the MISSIONARY refused to let me. He said that I was too weak and would not be able to climb so high and make it through the forest. He told me in a judgmental way that I must stay in my place in the village with the other women and children. For three days I wandered the market trying to feel a part, trying to understand my purpose. The women in the dream whispered as I walked past.
Finally on the third day a young child a little boy lead me to the circle of women. The oldest Senora the Abuella opened her arms and in them lay a skirt made of shimmering material, jade green and sapphire blue woven together with gold threads and when I put it on the skirt swirled around me like the winds and the ocean tides. The women each hugged me and the children laughed and clapped. Through the next two days the children of the village brought me flowers and each time they passed the little ones reached out their hands to stroke the goddess skirt I wore. More murmurs rose up from the women of the healer being in me and hope being reborn. I sat in the circle and the children climbed on my lap and the Abuella was pleased.
Finally after three more days she gave me a pair of sandals and flowers adorned my hair. The children just kept bringing me blossoms and endless hugs. They gently stroked my face and giggled in my ears. I felt so much love and yet I could not stop the deepest aching, which started in my arm and ended in my groin. Each time the pain came I wrapped myself in the shawl I had brought. On the evening of the sixth day the Abuella chanted over me and they all danced as she kissed my forehead. I wandered back to my room in a trance like dream state.
The night came with more dreams of a helpless child. I awoke in the depths of night knowing exactly where the baby must be and how I would have to climb the mountain to reach him at all costs. Into the darkness, dressed in a white gown and shawl nothing but bare feet my mission was to reach the Casa de Los Ninos or die.
In the dream the time in the forest was as quick as a blink of the eye. Nothing could touch me and all I knew was that an eternal child was in danger. A NUN opened the door of the home. She guided me by the arm to a huge sunny room. She saw the distress on my face and laughed at my concerns. When I spotted the wooden door leading to the basement, I asked who could be in such a place. She wouldn’t say and walked away.
I moved straight for the door but was halted by the sound of the NURSE. A Nino of Diablo was left to die in that room and I was not to interfere. Again I was moved away from the door. The baby’s cries were desperate and weak.
As the other children sang with the NUN and the NURSE I bolted for the door. Down into the tomb I went to find the child…. Steep wooden stairs, stonewalls, cold, such cold…
A door opened and there in the room of stone was a crib with an infant boy. He had nearly lost all his strength. His hair was strawberry red and his eyes as blue as my skirt had been. My hands could feel his wounds hidden inside where no one could see. His heart barely beating, my arms held him as we rocked in the chair beside the crib.
I told him how brave he must be to come to this place to teach about good and evil. I told him the story of another eternal child who had been before him and had been called many ugly names. There was the story of the boy’s birth and the love of his mother and stepfather.
The baby stayed to hear the story of his holy family, a lap of a father that would be forever safe, the arms of a mother that understood always. We talked of birthdays and sharing feasts and walking on water. Finally, our hearts spoke and he knew he could stay or fly and be free of his tomb. Either way he would need to make the choice to stay with ones who could only cause him pain and who would only be able to see evil in him or to move on trusting that they were wrong about the evil in him…. I gave him the kiss the Abuella had meant for me to share. I pulled him close into the heat of my chest and wrapped him in the softness of the shawl. His body went limp and his energy filled the room –he swirled and then soared through the only window into the early rays of dawn…
Immediately, the room changed from a tomb to a wooden sanctuary. The NUN and the NURSE and the MISSIONARY clamored down the stairs. They saw the dead baby and grabbed the limp body from my cradled arms. Their gazes were shocked as they finally saw the child they had abandoned. He was beautiful and flawless. They would call him SAINT CRISTO and he would be buried with the children of the light wrapped in the shawl. The NUN spoke a prayer in Spanish and the MISSIONARY only said he would deal with me… We left to walk back to the village. As I turned away to walk the dark path again, I heard a new cry-in the sky circling above the Casa was a red tail HAWK.
Back at the monastery the men all shunned me. They refused to share mealtime with me. I was sent to my room to think about my defiant nature. As they ate together I found my way down the back stairs and out to the garden. A stone altar became my perch. Here I cried for all the wounded children with broken hearts who are called evil and yet are only lost, needing a healer who can believe in all the gifts children carry from the SHE of the universe. My eyes were closed as I lay on the cold stone wishing to be with the Hawk soaring or in the arms of a divine father.
I am not sure how much time passed but the garden somehow closed around me and the roses, both red and white bloomed as another moon rose. As I saw the moonlight I reached out my hand for a huge white rose, it fell at my feet. Next I reached for the red rose and a sharp pain and drops of blood ran down my hand onto the roses, which had fallen and surrounded my bare feet…
And so the dream state ended and I awoke in my bed. My heart ached and my hand was on fire. I asked the universe-Please don’t let me stray from this journey. Bring me to the child….
The story I promised is of the Gemini with red hair of the HAWK and the eyes of the eternal child… and as eerie as it sounds it is all truth but to understand my knowing the Gemini you must first believe in the power of this dream.
See other articles in the series: In the Absence of Good and Evil by Audra and You Definitely Have Me Thinking ... by Jane Mullikin, the awesome webmistress of SpiritualSisters and Spirit, also Good and Evil by Princess M and The Elf Rose by Anonymous. Meg has written a story about Good and Evil in an INFP's Childhood.
Complete definition of the infp type introvert from Keirsey.com Please visit www.keirsey.com for more complete information about all personality types, including the eight different types of introverts. Keirsey calls the infp, "The Healer".
"Healer Idealists are abstract in thought and speech, cooperative in striving for their ends, and informative and introverted in their interpersonal relations. Healers present a seemingly tranquil, and noticiably pleasant face to the world, and though to all appearances they might seem reserved, and even shy, on the inside they are anything but reserved, having a capacity for caring not always found in other types. They care deeply -- indeed, passionately -- about a few special persons or a favorite cause, and their fervent aim is to bring peace and integrity to their loved ones and the world.
"Healers have a profound sense of idealism derived from a strong personal morality, and they conceive of the world as an ethical, honorable place. Indeed, to understand Healers, we must understand their idealism as almost boundless and selfless, inspiring them to make extraordinary sacrifices for someone or something they believe in. The Healer is the Prince or Princess of fairytale, the King's Champion or Defender of the Faith, like Sir Galahad or Joan of Arc. Healers are found in only 1 percent of the general population, although, at times, their idealism leaves them feeling even more isolated from the rest of humanity.?
STATEMENT IN REFERENCE ABOUT GOOD AND EVIL
"Healers seek unity in their lives, unity of body and mind, emotions and intellect, perhaps because they are likely to have a sense of inner division threaded through their lives, which comes from their often unhappy childhood. Healers live a fantasy-filled childhood, which, unfortunately, is discouraged or even punished by many parents. In a practical-minded family, required by their parents to be sociable and industrious in concrete ways, and also given down-to-earth siblings who conform to these parental expectations, Healers come to see themselves as ugly ducklings. Other types usually shrug off parental expectations that do not fit them, but not the Healers. Wishing to please their parents and siblings, but not knowing quite how to do it, they try to hide their differences, believing they are bad to be so fanciful, so unlike their more solid brothers and sisters. They wonder, some of them for the rest of their lives, whether they are OK. They are quite OK, just different from the rest of their family-swans reared in a family of ducks. Even so, to realize and really believe this is not easy for them. Deeply committed to the positive and the good, yet taught to believe there is evil in them, Healers can come to develop a certain fascination with the problem of good and evil, sacred and profane. Healers are drawn toward purity, but can become engrossed with the profane, continuously on the lookout for the wickedness that lurks within them. Then, when Healers believe thay have yielded to an impure temptation, they may be given to acts of self-sacrifice in atonement. Others seldom detect this inner turmoil, however, for the struggle between good and evil is within the Healer, who does not feel compelled to make the issue public." [the end]
Most infps I talk to relate to these statements immediately? How about you? What do you think? Please express your opinion, anonymously or in an essay or article.