Day 24 of the Apocalypse, Ground Zero, Gerton, NC pop. 231

Jeff and I attended church together today, a first for our marriage.

I’m a Quaker minister and Shamanic practitioner; he’s a lapsed Catholic. We went to a Baptist service, at the only church in our small community.

The pews were filled with several members of the Disaster Relief EMS, as well as North Carolina Highway Patrol, one of whom even served as pianist during the service.

The pianist, a gentle black man, joyous to find himself in church among strangers, led us in a beautiful hymn about giving yourself away (in service to others). Jeff teared up as he sang along.

Pastor Donnie, a small 79-year-old white man, born and raised in Gerton, with a big smile and a large cross on his tie, also spoke about using the talent that God gave you, in service to others.

Our Fire Chief Jay led us in Amazing Grace. It felt good to be with many of our neighbors in the sanctuary.

Two days ago my neighbor Julia, a Sufi minister, invited me into her home for an energy healing. I needed it. My nervous system was already depleted from the apocalypse, and my body responded to my brother dying by suicide on Wednesday with a raging migraine.

I spent most of Thursday lying on the floor in front of our wood stove, soaking up the warmth, and icing my head for relief. Our dogs wrapped their long dachshund bodies around me, offering protection, and matching my pain with their peace.

On Friday, I lay on Julia’s massage table, in her beautiful upstairs office. She put a weighted blanket on me and spent time blessing me and praying for me and my brother, in English and Arabic.

As Julia laid hands on me, I felt the room fill with angels and guides. I felt my body being wrapped and carried in a long shallow boat, along the Euphrates River.

Later, I learned the Euphrates symbolize God’s power over the natural world. Biblically, God is in all things, including hurricanes and devastation. In the Hebrew Bible, the Euphrates is also seen as a geographic marker that delineates belonging and exclusion.

Hurricane Helene is also a symbolic delineation. In response to her, we chose belonging over exclusion.

Julia kept asking for mercy to be bestowed upon me. “Rachman,” the essence of the divine quality of mercy, was the word/sound she repeated while laying her hands on my feet, my heart, and the top of my head.

Rachman is the most gracious, and most merciful. The one who brings blessings and compassion. That which connects us with the truth of who we are.
May the most merciful have mercy upon you.

May God bless you and keep you.
May the Light in you find the Light in others.
Lord and Father, almighty and eternal God, by your blessing you give us strength and support in our frailty.
Earth Mother, surround us with your loving arms. Shelter us from what we cannot bear alone. Help us to be a contribution to others.
It’s easy for religious differences to create division, especially during times of devastation. The courageous path is to keep searching for unity.
All prayers belong now.
All religions offer peace now.
All beliefs that bring comfort are welcome now.
This is the theology of grace.

Hurricane Helene didn’t happen to us. She happened for us.

She showed us what matters: community. Receiving support. Being blessed. Blessing others.