The Unconditional Love We Receive

Calm Morning on Rainy Lake by Gary Alan Nelson

It’s the unconditional love we receive
which is our grounding, even when
we believe it leaves;

Far different the counterfeit: with fits and starts, 
impure motives,
or confused heart;

Freedom, our own evolution, is our journey
to protect our authenticity;

We need the purist water, a steady stroke,
the soul of waters' ripples as if God Himself spoke;

Compassion, our lake or ocean, is self acceptance
in the open; then, arms & affirmation to love our very self - 
Unconditional love is within ourselves;

The Divine, the Divine, shines, shines
in Light, in Light, as
Christ or Buddha Consciousness, like a prayer,
evolves inside;

Unconditional love, I believe, nestles, 
supports our body and never leaves. 

Connie Nelson Ahlberg
All Rights Reserved.

I Am Honoring You, Dad!

My father, Willard Charles Nelson,

pouring over a page in A History of Lutsen

Gateway to the Wilderness 

by Robert Mc Dowell

When I last saw my father in January of last year, he was so dear, so present, and the Dad I've always known. Little did I realize, the runny nose, which was beginning to be a great bother, was to precede his final days. 

In the course of our visit, I told Willard when he arrived in heaven--that I wanted him to tell me he reached his celestial home. He smiled softly and tapped his left temple as if to say: I will try to remember. This past Sunday morning, he did.

I wasn't sound asleep, but somewhere between sleep and wakefulness. This scene came before me: a moment of wonderment. My arms were outstretched and I was walking toward someone--yet, I knew not who it was to be. But suddenly I see my dad's face with a soft smile on his lips. 

My joy leapt within this cosmic mystery.

I hugged him fiercely. 

By now, I was as electrically charged as a thunderbolt. It was the affirmation I have been seeking. The dear communication my heart sought. 

Today, Tuesday, September 24, 2019, I admittedly have wiped tears, but I also feel rejuvenated to lean into all the notes I have on my dad who lived to be 103.

And Willard? He's alive and spiritually well.