Last week in the news President Trump was categorized as “The Chosen One.”
Some of you may be surprised to know that I actually agree.
I believe that we are ALL “chosen” for one reason or another.
In my memoir I wrote about a time when I was chosen.
Chapter 17: The Glowing Angel
My parents were not “religious,” but as a kid I felt genuine love in our home (and didn’t someone say that God is Love). When I was young we would attend the services at Fountain Street Church several times a year, Christmas and Easter, and, of course, the occasional marriage and funeral.
The church, when we did go, was old and ornate, and I immediately felt safe when I entered the massive and grand sanctuary. The pews were magnificently carved wood and that deep, rich, grain continued in the pulpit that appeared to be floating in the front of the congregation. The minister, Dr. Littlefair, was the only one who would stand in that elaborate wooden box, and, as the lights dimmed, he would be covered in a soft spotlight so we could see the expression on his face while speaking.
Well, at nine years old, I didn’t comprehend the message, although I still did like the feeling I had when I went to that church. My family always sat in the same place in the balcony that overlooked the first floor where I could see all the heads below. These were the days when women would wear colorful hats and as I looked down on them I imagined a pointillism painting, moving ever so slightly. I loved going to church and I always wondered why we didn’t go more often.
One Sunday morning I was feeling unusually awkward and uncertain about myself. It was this exact morning, sitting in that familiar balcony, that something happened I will never forget.
I had closed my eyes while the preacher preached and I remember quietly asking God, “Why me?”
“Why am I me and not that little girl down in the front row with the pink dress and white gloves? She seems so normal. Why can’t I be her?” My eyes were still closed when I felt a warmth come over me. I looked to see where the heat was coming from. A glow was radiating from a large, gilded Angel just to the left of the sanctuary. The lights were dimmed so I knew it wasn’t a reflection from anything outside, on the contrary, it was a sincere light from within. I had noticed this Angel time and time again, with her beautiful wings and golden halo. She was my favorite of all the Angels in the church, and the sensation of her beam was welcoming. She was holding a scroll that I assumed was a message from God, and had twinkling stars all around her head. Her halo glowed in the darkened room and the luminescence penetrated through my body, making me warm all over.
I looked around to see if anyone else noticed what was happening, but it seemed that she touched only me. I remember that moment as if it happened yesterday. I somehow felt special…chosen. Then, like magic, I heard the words on the piece of paper she was holding, as if she were reading God’s message only for me to hear. The words spoke directly to my heart and bypassed my ears.
“You are an original and I made you exactly the way you are, for a reason. Do not question why. You will know why someday. For now, just be grateful.”
… and I was.
I was grateful for the personal message that carried me through many difficulties in my adolescent life. He said I was an “original,” like a one-of-a-kind art piece. How cool was that? From that day on (well, mostly) I was grateful for my differences: my height, my quiet soul, my artistic bent, and for just being me.
That special morning I learned that God was an artist and created me like a painting. He chose to make me an artist too, like Him.
In His image.
I’m different from the little girl with the pink dress in the front row, because I’m supposed to be. The difference was on purpose. I didn’t know what the reason was, and I didn’t have to. I was an “original piece of art.” I would find out why much later in my life, but the peace that filled my heart that morning lasted forever.
The glowing Angel was only the messenger. God’s words gave a young, insecure girl comfort and changed how she felt about herself. Who I was, was enough.
I will remember that day forever.
It was the day I knew I was “chosen”.
Now, back to President Trump.
Yes, I believe he is “CHOSEN” as well, to do exactly what he is doing right now.
He is creating a polarizing disorder that needs to come to the surface so we can FEEL THE DISRUPTION and begin to make a choice toward peace and harmony. I am sure we all, democrats and republicans, feel the dis-function of our government. It’s not working. It’s broken.
Some may interpret this polarizing chaos as a mighty force that will break the political norm, and some feel as though this male dominance is an imbalance of the naturally evolving societal transformation. We will hopefully move from the masculine success energy toward the feminine nurturing energy and this will begin to balance humanity on our planet.
The masculine energy is 3D horizontal thinking. (success, power, competition, dominance)
The female energy is 5D vertical thinking. (caring, cooperation, equality, acceptance)
Right now it seems to be one or the other.
This division reminds me of Steven King’s book “The Stand”, where the US is divided into good & bad, no middle ground. Or perhaps elements of the “Left Behind” series where Nicolae Carpathia wants to divert our attention in order to marshal the world. In both books, a leader (Antichrist), persuades the people with charisma and power. Many followers are blindly enticed into believing that moral standards have shifted to second place behind greed and power.
So, let’s watch this “CHOSEN ONE” try to break the system that our founding fathers built and know that all of this turmoil is for a reason.
We are all CHOSEN for something.
Now, I know why.