7-18 Her Doorway

Happened last Sunday.

 

Her Doorway

 

Fasting since dawn. At midafternoon,

a rendezvous with two spirit partners planned

 

at a home. Infected by the devil’s disease,

alien cells growing, migrating like wildebeest

across tissue plains through capillary tributaries

and birthing elsewhere, she waits.

 

My stomach snarls.

Monks call this “belly madness.”

 

.           .

 

The hour arrives. We step to her door to incarnate

Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears My voice

and opens the door, I will come in to him and dine with him,

and he with Me. *

 

She opens and we enter her living room.

Photos of kids shine from afternoon sunbeams.

She sits, faintly smiles, weary from months

 

staring at hospital ceilings, IV lines, shadows of death.

 

We place warmed food on a table. I open healing oil,

concreated by a pastor and Jehovah Rapha. I begin

with verses read constantly the past twenty centuries:

 

Is anyone among you sick? Let him call for the elders of the church, and let them pray over him, anointing him with oil in the name of the Lord. And the prayer of faith will save the sick, and the Lord will raise him up. And if he has committed sins, he will be forgiven (James 5:13-16).

 

The weight of the Spirit descends upon this room,

bathing the four of us in whispers, breath rippling still airs.

 

I open the Gospel of Luke, 5, verses 12-13:  And it happened when He was in a certain city, that behold, a man who was full of leprosy saw Jesus; and he fell on his face and implored Him, saying, “Lord, if You are willing, You can make me clean.”

Then He put out His hand and touched him, saying, “I am willing; be cleansed.” Immediately the leprosy left him.

 

After sacred silence, I utter, “_______, please recline comfortably. Open or close

your eyes as you wish. Just receive from us, who strive to be candles for His flame, voices for His Word, hearts for His love, temples for His spirit, instruments for His will, prisms for His light, and reflections for His radiance.”

 

With scented oil I anoint, sign the cross on her forehead

and we three lay hands on her and pray and pray

 

with the voice of Jehovah Rapha.

 

.           .

 

We rise, bid farewells. She appears

beatific on her leather lounger.

Carried by the Spirit,

 

we descend into her front yard,

towards other doorways

some other day.

 

*Rev. 3:20

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