CHANNELING GRANDMA:  An Intercessory Rumbling Amidst This Dark Night

Amidst my pondering whether or not to just accept and EXPERIENCE my Dark Night, a lady in my church speaks up with unexpected news: Barbara was the Hospice nurse that was present for my now incredibly missed Grandma Lils last hours…last gasps…last sigh. I don’t remember her, because Lils last weeks alive set off my last episode of binge, black out drinking…and now, Barb–who has been in the same womens’ group as I have for MONTHS-suddenly realizes who I am, too.

Coming back to my hometown, I never thought there would be lessons left to learn from Grandma Lil. She was, indeed, an incredible influence on me, and so much of my identity is due to her tutelage. It was Grandma Lil that took me to church…introduced me to the Bible; she taught me how to cook and argue intellectually, though I guess I missed the lesson on how to be a lady about it

Grandma Lil, though, believed in the Spirit Realm; a curious reader of Edgar Cayce, she trusted that those passed on could intercede on our behalf, if only we would seek them out. Praying to dead friends and relatives, keeping them alive with stories and memorials was commonplace to her…

and suddenly it seems she’s looking to, what, get ME to talk TO HER in Heaven? Like, she wants a VOICE in my Dark Night, or what?

Barb and I were in a room with about 8 other women when she, stunned, realized who I was. Both our minds raced, as we searched each others’ countenance for something…SOMEONE we could recognize…what the hell, in my grief, I had to admit those last days I was drunk.

I’ve known Barb for months now…and I haven’t been visiting Grandma Lils haunts or thought of her much. Still, seeking the wisdom of other locals amidst my high drama reaction to my Dark Night, I found myself wondering what purpose God had in revealing Barbs identity NOW.

“You don’t belileve in ME right now”, i can hear God say. “You believe in your Unseen Grandma; perhaps that is a place to start?” Even Barb is convinced a lesson is afoot, in a way, from a presence I can STILL feel in my heart.