*Photo by the author, Deeann D. Mathews, March 26, 2024*
One quality of any reflection, and also any shadow ...
*Photo by the author, Deeann D. Mathews, March 26, 2024*
... depends on exactly the same things: the clarity and brightness and angle of the light. However, a reflection tells you where light is *twice,* that is, coming and going, and requires a calm surface capable of giving light back, while any surface in any state will show a shadow, for a shadow simply is where light, at its most intense angle, is not. The more intense the light, the deeper the shadow.
*Photo by the author, Deeann D. Mathews, March 26, 2024*
Before the dawn of spring, I had not accounted for Schubert's "Erstarrung" from *Winterreise* and for the fact that people can make idols and then stand in the shadows of their losses, blocking the light of love and joy and any chance they can be helped ... for the brighter the light, the deeper the shadow.
Now I have encountered this idea before. The Scripture in Ezekiel says it plainly: folks would go to inquire of the prophet and take his words as a song they enjoyed hearing -- they liked his dramatic style -- but they had set up their idols in their heart. Notably, it is mentioned there is that the people had their heart set upon the fact that their city had been conquered, but not yet destroyed. The thought that they and their children and grandchildren not yet born might yet escape *70 years* of captivity prophesied by Jeremiah was what they set up in their hearts ... until that false hope was smashed by the complete destruction of their home city, and reality set in *for the next 60 or so years that remained in their prophesied captivity.* By comparison, the character from *Winterreise* got off easy.
Now that was a cold thought ... that *Winterreise* is merciful because winter is relatively brief ... that *in real life,* people can spend *decades* they will never get back on delusion. I knew this, but after "Erstarrung," and Kurt Möll growl-rolling that R in *gestorben* -- "Mein Herz ist wie gestorben!" -- indicating a dead heart frozen around the image of the woman the character cannot have, *it hit me and it hit me hard.*
The brighter the light, the deeper the shadow... what was already visible in the lower light of winter is even more obvious in the golden light of the dawn of spring, unlike any I have ever known ... bereft of all those from 2022 and 2023 who I would have gladly carried into this light, just now realizing that even if I could have done it, all they and their idols would do is cast shadows on everything.
*Photo by the author, Deeann D. Mathews, March 26, 2024*
By this I am not saying that anyone is better or worse than I am ... I also have a shadow. I struggle with human pride and ego as everyone does. But over the course of decades, pursuing the path of peace and righteousness versus *not* becomes the difference between the character in Brahms's "Mit Vierzig Jahren" and Schubert's 20th song of 24 in *Winterreise,* "Der Wegweiser." Both contemplate seeking a path few will in mountains ... but in Brahms, the character is actually encouraging his listeners to keep climbing, though alone, to that sun-drenched high ridge with a great view from which to survey life in clarity. In Schubert, while still justifying himself that he has done no wrong, the character is seeking the remote paths in winter in what he knows is a foolish pursuit that *will kill him.*
Brahms's character seeks life as it is not often lived, but Schubert's, in the consequences of earlier choices, is now aware that he no longer has any choice, for the sentence of death -- a signpost -- has been written over him. That decision of his to kill his heart to freeze the picture of the woman he lost in it, all the way back in Song 4 of *Winterreise,* cannot now be changed. The weight of the tragedy of thus being *lost,* frozen in rejecting all means of salvation *although they are present and not far off, for there are safe roads,* to be seeking rest but without the ability to rest, with no way to stop until death arrests his out-of-control search ... the awful gravity of it! No better first witness to the scene could there be than Herr Möll, who tells the story to us in first-person perspective, with no holds barred.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PUDYJ3Ctogg
Life has more options than death, as light has more options than darkness ... as it is written, "Wisdom excels folly as light excels darkness," but also "Men loved darkness rather than light, for their deeds are evil," and also "There is a way that seems right to a man, but the end thereof are the ways of death," and then "Follow Me, and let the dead bury their dead," with also "The way of the wise goes upward, that he may depart from Hell beneath."
All those quotes I know ... but with "Erstarrung" and "Der Wegweiser" testifying to the same, I see why I had to climb to year 43 alone. He who was called to sing the echo on those truths did his work very well while I was giggling and laughing as a little girl in the 1980s.
And even that is not enough to understand. Most people never see the heights or depths described from either extreme direction of "Mit Vierzig Jahren" or "Der Wegweiser." Both characters are alone because most people are not going to work that hard in *either direction,* and most people do seek light in their lives, making "Der Wegweiser" exceptionally rare in real life ... which is good. I leave to your imagination where one might find a note or manifesto of someone justifying himself in a level of foolishness that has eventuated in death. It *does* happen. We pray that it remain exceptionally rare in the world.
The everyday challenge is that the world has many will-o'-the-wisps ... many wandering lights ... many transient excitements and pleasures and fears that drive people. Now, GRANTED, if the very active man in *Winterreise* spends some time following a will-o'-the-wisp, we may expect him to be an overachiever ... he may find himself between a rock and a hard place in an exceptional way, but make his way out by following a river's path without breaking a sweat about it ... and of course, Herr Möll just went into the studio and just overlaid the point by making the ridiculously wide range of this song and making it sound like this is a nice little warm up for him! Composer and singer *really* do a number here, highlighting a horror by how lightly the character takes it: "I am used to going astray ... it all goes the same way ... all things we take as good or bad are just will-o'-the-wisps."
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DrzE3qSh7Nw
The character "easily" escapes in Song no. 9 ... but that just sets him up to keep erring until he finds there is no escape in "Der Wegweiser," song no. 20.
But most people are not as direct as the character in *Winterreise* -- they are not as calm nor purposefully lost. Many people will wander in the valley until they find themselves between a rock and a hard place with no further options ... but in the springtime, who sees that as a possibility? Many will meet winter there and not come out, but not intentionally ... they just stay around and play around for too long, missing opportunities to come on the climb.
Most people that I left behind are doing the unconscious version of "Irrlicht," following some deceiving light round and round to nowhere fast. They, too, are used to straying, and thinking that everyone gets to the same place in the end... but that is not the case, at all.
I found myself facing old frustrations from a different place this past two weeks ... in the life opened by my fifth book, individuals are showing me their preferred *Irrlichten,* and how they desire to be able to blend their actual desires for easy profits with the benefits of a wise, careful path they do not want to climb.
History verged on repeating itself in this phase of my life as an author and teacher -- but upon reflecting in the light of this spring, *I saw it in time.* The greater the light, the clearer the reflections upon a calm, reflective surface -- I thank God for the clarity and peace now to reflect, as I have had in no spring before this one!
I am also grateful that *two basso profundos* were sent to help me -- Mr. Eric Hollaway sang across 4.5 octaves "LET IT BE," and was himself echoed in a reggae version of the song when I went to the grocery store!
And, of course, my favorite musician has been in the role of "the ghost in the [YouTube] machine," with the warnings of "Erstarrung," "Der Wegweiser," and "Irrlicht" coming up in that order, their echo of older wisdom I know about human nature put in terms that make room for me to process emotionally what my mind already does know. He was a master teacher and firm but gentle guide in how he sang ... as I have said, he got his work done as the echo of a greater Master Teacher, and Gentle Guide, with Whom I have walked for 39 of my 43 years.
And after that, an alto, returning me to the deep, complex serenity of Bach ... the Agnus Dei of his B minor Mass ... an alto, like myself, calmly calling above for mercy in full assurance that it would be answered ... Susanne Langner has my attention, for the richness of her voice and earnestness of her manner made a harmony in comfort to that of Herr Moll's singing of this same text, though in Haydn and Beethoven:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q6ypJ5ikiNc
Thus so reinforced, I *broke the pattern of the past this week.* I will not accommodate those who wish me to accommodate their wills-o'-the-wisp -- their *Irrlichten* -- and bend what I offer to fit. *No more.*
And then, having made that decision, I returned to the golden dawn of spring ...
*Photo by the author, Deeann D. Mathews, March 26, 2024*
... where I was reminded that Moses received his call at a burning bush ...
*Photo by the author, Deeann D. Mathews, March 26, 2024*
... while gold gathered at my feet ...
*Photo by the author, Deeann D. Mathews, March 26, 2024*
... and even where winter's reminders lingered, like mounds of fragrant snow amidst the gold ...
*Photo by the author, Deeann D. Mathews, March 26, 2024*
... or even in its wrecks, spring was doing its work on restoring all things!
*Photo by the author, Deeann D. Mathews, March 26, 2024*
Again to Blue Heron Lake, to walk portions I had not seen on my halcyon trip, and to reflect ...
*Photo by the author, Deeann D. Mathews, March 26, 2024*
... and as I came upon these scenes, I at last came to the realization my subconscious had been pulling me toward for years ... never again in life could I allow anyone near to me who did not bring peace to my peace, and blend light with light. Never again could I have a companion to whom the greater the light, the deeper the shadow, with no capacity for reflection. Now because I am a minister at heart, ministry I must do, and can do so with love to any number of people in well-structured groups and larger instructional settings, but my peace I would have to keep by admitting few to my personal circle. I would have to do what is done in the law for people disturbing the peace -- *an actual civil infraction in much of the German and Anglo-Saxon worlds* -- and arrest and remove them from my life.
Just how staggering this realization was cannot be appreciated unless you appreciate how loud and how pointless the noise is and has always been. So, out of the apparitional dust around me -- folks have BEEN trying me and I have been using the swatter GENEROUSLY even recently -- we shall have to bring a character out of a few good mixed handfuls of said dust. We shall call her Livia, not Olivia, and if you want to know why Olivia is still a thing but Livia is not, look up the wife of Caesar Augustus, and then decide if you need that kind of energy in your life.
"Deeann -- girl, where have you been hiding yourself?"
"I'm just minding my business, Livia. How are you?"
"I need all the news -- I heard you got yourself a *European white man,* and he's handsome and tall and rich!"
"Oh, you did, did you?"
Meanwhile, atop Strawberry Hill in the middle of Blue Heron Lake...
*Photo by the author, Deeann D. Mathews, March 26, 2024*
I heard a familiar voice warming up ... an *immense bass voice,* so beautiful that even a warmup in the wind was a blessing to hear -- but I did not turn around to look, although my whole being cried for that relief. One did not even hint to a Livia that such a thing existed to be commodified and spoiled.
"Yes, girl, I heard that he is always dressed to the nines, well over six feet tall, and -- well, the six-pack is in there somewhere, but that's OK because you need to work on your weight too, so --."
I was walking away from the voice I loved, back into Livia's world ... out of the park and the last of its peaceful meadows ...
*Photo by the author, Deeann D. Mathews, March 26, 2024*
... into the busy street...
*Photo by the author, Deeann D. Mathews, March 26, 2024*
... and into the hustle and bustle that Livia lived for and fed off of.
"He's a bit old -- but you seem to like them old, so that's OK -- girl, you need to lock this one down because from what I hear he is super-sweet on you, singing and serenading you in the evenings!"
"Where did you hear that, Livia?"
"Well, I mean, in these days and times, men aren't just consistently walking women to their doors -- and he has a huge, beautiful voice! If he could get it up out of those basement ranges, he could probably be one of those late-blooming singing stars!"
"I didn't know that you cared enough to walk us to my door, Livia."
"Girl, I'm on every social media but that boring Hive -- I've got eyes and ears everywhere!"
Maybe it is a good thing that Hive is growing slowly, after all.
I used to have access on Web 2 social media to *twelve thousand people.* I left all of that because about eleven thousand of those were like Livia: on social media to be in everyone else's business, assessing the value of people largely on how they were performing by consumer standards for *humans in a slave-holding society at its founding,* OR, arguing with proponents of that viewpoint without providing people education and solutions that can help them escape living in those same standards. To them, with my big voice, large intellect, and passionate defense of human rights and dignity, I was grand entertainment -- but that was all.
Can you imagine the energy it takes for a Livia to be tracking the lives of friends and celebrities, leaving none to *actually pick up and consistently use any information that would help her advance in her own life?* This is the pattern of a decadent, *decaying* society, with the addendum that it is ever ready to turn to *violence* upon those not willing to cooperate. Livia epitomizes already seizing upon physical characteristics as something to viciously attack, and that can go into gendered and racial attack very easily not only on an individual, but all that individual is touching in the world. The Livias of the world are *legion.* They can and do make good things disappear in the wave of their foolishness, and Web 2 is a testimony to how bad this can get.
But Livia had asked the right question -- "Girl, where have you been hiding yourself?" Instinctively, from 2020 through 2023, I was doing what I know for certain to do now, *for the only thing to do is to leave the Livias of the world in the wandering they want, and climb on.* Now I know. They are a danger to themselves and to me, so there is nothing else to do ... let those who want better climb out, and if they will, my helping hand will be above them to help.
Then I remembered ... upon climbing, I had always been helped from above ... called from above, obedient, and helped from above ... I reflected, and it had always so been ... and thus it would always be. It was time to consciously choose what I had been choosing, all along.
I had walked Livia back down into her world to leave her there, and leave no trace as to where I would be going.
"Livia, your phone is blowing up -- better check your notifications!"
She looked -- "Oh, lookie here -- later, Deeann!"
Just a few minutes with Livia had exhausted me -- how I had even lived to see 43 in the company of people like that, I knew was the grace of God. And yet again, there was a voice echoing the Voice that long ago had called me to be in the world, but not of the world system ... so, again I began to climb, out of the noise, back into the trees and the light of the golden dawn of spring, back to Blue Heron Lake, and within sight again of Strawberry Hill on the side of Huntington Falls ...
*Photo by the author, Deeann D. Mathews, March 26, 2024*
I so wanted to climb the hill, just physically wanting all the distance from Livia that I could get... but I knew I was too tired to safely get both up and down, and that within my heart I had put all the distance between her and me that I would need. By this time all was quiet above me. As it had been the autumm day I had gone for my life to the top of Buena Vista Hill in a complete refusal of the abyss of despair, what was mine to do was mine alone to get done, and what was above my strength was not for me to do at all. These were things that had to be settled in the loving quietude between me and the One Who has called me ... and so they were.
But as it had been in the autumn, when the things I had to do alone were done, then joy awaited me, and, sure enough, I turned a corner and found that in a place to rest, gold and silver rippled upon emerald waters as someone resumed and completed his warmup ...
... and then I turned another corner and met the Ghost of Musical Greatness Past, smiling like anyone's proud adoptive German father.
"I knew you would make it, Frau Mathews," he said. "I knew you would choose to abide where you are called, and so, although we are not at your physical home, you will understand when I say, *Wilkommen zuhause!* and sing you a welcome home."
There are quite a few people who know Herr Möll recorded Strauss's gloomy "Der Einsame" in 1999, but fewer on the Internet know that in a live broadcast recital in 1984, he had included Schubert's earlier masterpiece -- D. 800 -- by the same name! In it, the character is alone in his room at the end of the day, his fire burning low and the crickets drawn inside to its gentle warmth and singing happily as he reviews and reflects upon his day ... the good, the bad ... but the bad can be dismissed and the good remembered to lead to gentle rest ... for the secret is his joy in his quiet rustic life, free from the mad rushing of the world. Although he sometimes does feel lonely, he recognizes that the crickets are there with their song to remind him: he is not alone, after all.
In case PeakD does not cooperate, the timestamp is 12:10!
https://youtu.be/sPpKp4jVJ2M?t=731
To be thus greeted after my journey of the day ... of a life to a hard decision ... that warm, welcoming, loving voice did what it does best and knocked out all noise and pain and grief and established that I was now in complete safety ... the flood of relief and joy and gratitude I experienced took me quickly to tears and beyond, for as it says in the song, because bad things and memories have been put to the side, one can give one's self to rest. Even in broad daylight, best believe the Knockout Zone is in full effect ...that big, deep, kind black-velvet voice tucked me right in.
*"Herzlich wilkommen, Frau Mathews ... nur ruhe,"* he said gently when he was finished singing, and there was indeed only rest after that.
*Photo by the author, Deeann D. Mathews, March 26, 2024*
I do not know how long it was that I rested, but I felt well when I sat up, and even better when I saw my ethereal companion's gentle smile.
"No crickets for you, Frau Mathews," he purred. "The Author of your life story planned you a slightly larger upgrade, with a somewhat deeper voice, to remind you: you will never be alone, climbing as you are called, and in Him, you will be at home wherever He might cause you to find rest until you get home to *His home.* However, in order that you are not troubled with *Irrlichten* likely to tempt you, we must identify them so that you see them in time."
"I am prepared to be instructed, *mein Lehrer."*
I noticed that he hesitated for just a moment ... in the next instant, he thought of us getting up and walking along as we talked, and then decided against it... instead, I felt his arm around my shoulders tighten just a little ... as if he would give me strength for what he was about to say.
"Last year, when you were struck with Mahler's 'Ich bin der Welt abhanden gekommen,' you had the beginning of the realization you needed. But your heart did not yet consciously understand just how much danger the Livias of the world are -- and you, *meine Tochterlein,* were out of place *by the thousands in 2022."*
I began to shudder as I thought back ... indeed, things could have gone much worse than they did in 2022 and 2023.
"I say to you gently, but plainly, Frau Mathews -- the will-o'-the wisp that is your weakness is *naive compassion.* You are an empath. It comes naturally to you to have deep compassion on others. It is natural for you to wish to act, to love, to give. But it is that *naive* part -- stunning in a large intellect such as yours, endearing in that you made it past age 40 still desiring the things you desire for everyone around you and not thinking about the danger. You have been very well defended from on high, Frau Mathews, and He Whose love you echo knows you meant no evil where you have erred. But it is time for you to be clear about 2022 and 2023.
"I say again, Frau Mathews: it is deeply endearing that even to this day, you still think of those you left behind as people you desire to love and bless, and still rejoice in every individual that since, following your example, has likewise come out. But if I were in the flesh as a man who loved you, it would be equally *terrifying* to me to know that not until today have you realized that the majority of those people could have and would have combined their efforts to tear you to bits for daring to stand against their foolishness and leave them, were it not that they were restrained by a Power above all others. You know Him as the One Who gives you the strength to *not act out* in human depravity, but do you remember that you were told to your face by certain ones that they LOVE their bad behaviors?"
"I do, and it baffled me," I said, "but I quickly realized that I did not need to fully understand to know I had better get away from it."
"Not until today have you understood, Frau Mathews. Now again, the fact that you are 43 and have consistently fought against evil in yourself well enough that you do not have a life pattern of choosing and justifying evil deeds is why your grand old soldier's heart was and is *safe with you,* Frau Mathews. That fits you for the responsibilities you have in life, for the stewardship you have been entrusted with in your community. But do you know why I just smoothly sang out that second verse in 'Irrlicht' and made it sound easy?"
I thought about it, and then it came to me.
"Because that is how the character should behave, based on his taking a position of fatalism after life, God, and the family of his beloved would not do his will. Why should he not be excused in erring if it is all a game played by higher powers in which we are but losing victims? I know this is his viewpoint because of the way you spat that word *game* -- *spiel* -- in the first utterance of 'Alles eines Irrlichts Spiel* and in that shaky, angry-boy timbre the second time in your colossal voice -- it indicates to me how incredibly dangerous that character is, always just at the edge of acting out, and again confirms: in Song 1, that family made the right decision in not marrying him in!"
"Indeed," he said. "That can be known all the way through the cycle, depending on how one considers the weighty matters of life, love, and eternity already laid out in 'Gute Nacht.'
"Here I draw to your attention a lighter matter that you have observed but not fully understood. It will seem to be a diversion at first, but I take care, Frau Mathews, to lead you by gentle paths through hard passes. I was tickled last year as you went on and on about my 'butter-smooth consonants' and the 'knockout beauty' of my smooth and even voice last year. You even read about me having said that I had to think about doing King Marke very carefully because I *knew* that if I didn't, that audience would be asleep after that eleven minutes. I say this to say to you: one can develop in craft without guile."
A light came on in my mind.
"Why do you think you heard all the hints I dropped as to what was really going on, here and there in different songs and arias, Frau Mathews? You heard all the hints I left because I built that smooth vocal canvas to put them on, like jewels on velvet. Observe the contrast there -- or, as it has been said by a certain ardent admirer of mine, 'His voice is as black and warm as a moonless summer night, spangled with all the Milky Way for light.'
"I know that woman," I said, "and indeed, she is a late-coming but ardent admirer who loves you just for that -- craft, and mastery, without guile."
The look of love and compassion upon his face, and the depth of it in his voice, made what he was about to say bearable.
"Of course you do, Frau Mathews. There is no boast in me saying that. In fact, I am deeply humbled by it, as I often was in life by my admirers ... for I knew then as I do now that there are few refuges in which one may safely love in a world like this ... how less so for you, as a person of great heart, and no guile. You have lived your entire life in a country full of people who have abundant guile even when they increasingly do not have craft or mastery, and want the privileges of great skill and even superiority while lacking any qualifications. What is this thing that you young people say -- 'at your big age,' Frau Mathews, you just now have worked this out.
"And that is why you guilelessly worked among thousands while living among millions of their like, of all races, genders, and stated creeds, fully vested in the worst ideals of a country founded in destroying people like you for profit and ego. You honestly did not know the danger you were in and will always be in, given any large group of average un-vetted people in your society! But now you know, Frau Mathews. Now, you know."
To hear my own realizations reflected back to me in no uncertain terms took my breath away. He paused to give me a moment before going on in an even gentler voice.
"But this you had: you knew the Voice that called you out, and you did not need to have full understanding to follow His voice -- so you obeyed in 2022 and 2023, and your obedience led you to where you could understand... out of the shadows of the deep trouble you were in to a place of reflection ... to *this spring,* in which you saw clearly the pattern of your past errors, and *broke that pattern* ... so now, Frau Mathews, not only are you safe, but you have made the decisions that will allow you to *stay safe,* and never be pulled back.
*Photo by the author, Deeann D. Mathews, March 26, 2024*
"But this -- the decision to not be bent to accommodate people's choice of errors -- this you must make your step sure in, always. You made a good observation about the contrast between 'Mit Vierzig Jahren' and 'Der Wegweiser' -- about the extremes, and about how most people fall into the valley between. But it is by no means an equal comparison owing to the presence of gravity, in physics and also in the wretchedness of human nature. Hear me well, Frau Mathews -- you must attend carefully to your climb. It is too easy to fall!"
My mind went back ... and he quoted what he was echoing after my mind located it in 2 Peter.
"'You therefore, beloved,' he quoted in his most reverent double-deep tone, "'knowing these things beforehand, beware, lest being carried away with the error of the wicked, *you fall from your own stedfastness."*
He paused, and then I heard his voice come right to the edge of breaking because of a sudden surge of emotion.
"You therefore, *beloved* ... ."
Strawberry Hill quivered and a shining wave rolled gently all the way around Blue Heron Lake for all that was back of that word, clear into eternity past and future ... because of the Voice behind him, and the depth of that love in warning.
*Photo by the author, Deeann D. Mathews, March 26, 2024*
For several moments he could not speak -- his voice was half-choked as he at last said, "Neither I nor the entire world can hold the depth of the love for you *behind me, Frau Mathews* -- why do you think *you are being called out?*"
It was another several moments before he could speak again, his voice still greatly hushed.
"Reflect on the love of your grand old soldier for a moment, Frau Mathews, and how he brought you to Blue Heron Lake first, how he shared with you his own peaceful places. You could not have been a *worldly woman,* and called here even by him. That was a picture for you to know that you are being called out *from above, to love,* away from the ravening world.
"I say again to you what I did in the halcyon that foreshadowed this spring for you: abide, Frau Mathews, as you are called. Press into this reality, and make your steps steady and sure in it. Make the most of your protected status. So many high passes, Frau Mathews, remain above you that others may not pass through because they are not even protected from the foolishness in themselves, to say nothing of the high winds and cold stretches there are in every great height. But you -- make the most of your protected status, and press upward through those passes.
"Brahms echoed it for you in 'Mit Vierzig Jahren,' and I echoed in singing that and echo it yet again: the way of the wise goes upward. So, in Brahms's terms, you have looked back and seen how far you have now come, so now, take your staff and go, upward, onward, unhurried, without fear, following the One Who calls you, by paths He Himself will make straight for you, to companions of His choice as you go *even if that is only Him."*
His voice rang with the intensity of his earnestness.
"For there is nothing in the valley of those who love their erring lights and erring ways for you -- there is nothing for you on that path that has a signpost upon which is written upon the sentence of death."
He brought "Irrlicht" and "Der Wegweiser" together, just that quick.
"Abide where you are called, Frau Mathews, and press upward in it! *Take your staff and go!*"
I suddenly remembered a story I learned in Sunday School days as a little girl ... how an ill man was waiting by a pool to be healed, and when the Lord asked him if he wished to be healed, he had every reason to speak of, drawn from his real experience, why he could not be healed where he was. The Lord simply told him, "Take up your bed and walk," and gave him the power to do so as he was doing it ... and so, through faith acted out in obedience, he was healed and left that place, never to return.
As it happened, the man who was healed was called alone, healed alone, and walked away alone. Everyone else at the pool -- a great crowd of sick and disabled people -- was focused as the man had been once been on the pool, looking for any ripple and every ripple for the healing angel who came to trouble the water periodically.
*Photo by the author, Deeann D. Mathews, March 26, 2024*
They never thought to look up to the One Who could, if asked and believed on, could heal on the spot. So He, seeing that, also never returned to that place again. By the time John 5 was written, the pool of Bethesda, along with the city of Jerusalem it was in, had been destroyed. That was the ultimate fate of those watching the lights on the ripples in the pool. *One, of all those, was called out, listened, and was saved, not because he was better than anyone else, but because he was chosen, and chose to hear the One Who had chosen him, and respond in faith, and go.*
Coming back to the present moment, I wept ... for sadness, because I knew what happened, then and now, to those left back ... for the sheer magnitude of what I had now come to understand because I could not hold it in ... for gratitude, that my ears and my heart had been opened, and that I had been empowered and would be empowered to go forth, as I was commanded.
*Photo by the author, Deeann D. Mathews, March 26, 2024*
It was therefore some time before the two of us there could collect ourselves because of the magnitude of what had been communicated, but because I did not have a voice that could raise a tsunami in Blue Heron Lake, I spoke first.
"Well," I said, "all this to get back around to where I started these realizations last spring, to follow Mahler and Ruckert: 'Ich bin der Welt abhanden gekommen,' with the added understanding that while I may do periodic commutes into the world for work and ministry when directed, I must abide, and shall abide, ever above and away, for it is Love, Himself, Who calls me to rest in the company of His all-sufficient self ... and, as He added to me my grand old soldier in His good time, and also dear friends I still have, He will in His good time will grant me such future human fellowship as He sees fit."
My companion opened his arms to me so his embrace could say what his voice at the moment could not.
"O thou good and faithful echo," I said after a long time, "I hear you, and the One behind you. *Nur ruhe."*
*"Nein,"* he said after another long time, "for you must have a song from one a bit lower than the angels, a little larger than the crickets, and with deeper voice -- a song to welcome you home!"
Oh, to hear Schubert's "Der Einsame" from that close, that richly resonant, deep, and gentle voice singing out in the joy a father has over his daughter who is maturing in and choosing wisdom! Afterward we just sat there a long time, the peace and joy more than sufficient to let the world go by until it was time for him to take of that with us on the way to my earthly home.
*Photo by the author, Deeann D. Mathews, March 26, 2024*
As ever, my companion walked me to my door, and left me only once I had that door open and was half inside ... but from there he took a faster route home than usual, and could hardly have gotten across the gap before crying out in full immortal voice for joy and gratitude and praise. I know this because the staircase he had run up shined a long time as the faintest portion of his joy echoed back down.
*Photo by the author, Deeann D. Mathews, February 19, 2023*
hiveblocks