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Beauty for Ashes

 

Finding Humor In Grief

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Hoodless Klan

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Beauty For Ashes
Excerpt from Chapter 8 - “Spirituality and Spirits”

By

Dr. Ruth L. Baskerville

  This is a very sad and very funny true story of how Dr. Ruth learned to push past the grief of losing her husband of 45 years. It's also her spiritual journey to draw closer to God, while finding the new normal for daily living.  

 
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I had been invited by a group of spiritual warriors to meet at one woman’s home for prayer, scripture reading, testimonials, deliverance, and a great meal. It was called a “Spiritual Birthing Event.” I always declined the invitation, because I was already attending church and Bible Study weekly, plus reading my Holy Bible daily, and didn’t see the benefit in my investing a separate, whole evening with the Lord beyond my existing time commitment.

One of the invitations came from a host whose name I knew, so I decided to go. There were a dozen women of God present, with an anointed pastor, or Intercessor, leading the Biblical discussion, according to scriptures she had received in her spirit from God. We sat in chairs and on couches in the living room with our Holy Bibles on our laps, ready to find pertinent scriptures when asked.

The anointed pastor began to pray, and after about ten minutes, asked each of us to find a quiet space and pray out loud. Instantly, the other women in the room reached for scarves or shawls to cover their heads, and bowed, knelt beside the coffee table, or stretched out on the floor, face down. Prayers were coming from every corner of the room.

I hadn’t left my seat on the couch yet, wondering why nobody told me to bring a head covering. I presumed that was necessary to block out all distractions during the prayer. I took a tissue from my purse and placed it on top of my head, then leaned forward so my head touched my knees without letting the tissue fall.

Having mastered the positioning of my body, I began to pray into the space between my parted knees, asking God to grant me a number of wishes. Then I prayed for the strength and health of my immediate and extended family. No one had stopped praying at that point, and some began wailing through their prayers. I didn’t know praying could be this intense!

So I prayed for our world leaders, planet Earth, the end of all wars, a hundred of my closest friends, my neighbors, the Grief Girls, the BFFFFs, the persons on The Glory Call at 5:30 a.m. each morning, and God’s continued grace and mercy in my life. I was certain I had covered everything vital to the universe, so I removed the tissue from my head and opened my eyes. Mine were the only eyes opened.

Feeling insecure about what else to do, I decided to go into the bathroom and sit on the toilet, hoping to glean enough inspiration to find something else to pray about. There were no new insights coming to me in the bathroom, so I returned to the living room, where covered bodies were moving back and forth, as if in pain. Still, they prayed unceasingly.

I decided to return to my seat on the couch, but lean over far enough to hear the words of the woman who was lying face down on the floor right below me. I remembered in learning how to pray more effectively that there’s a benefit to mimicking the prayers of another. So when the woman said, “Father, hear the cries of your humble servant,” I softly repeated her words. “If we fail to ask, Lord, please don’t fail to grant because you know the hearts of every man.” I may have missed a word here, but I repeated most of what she said.

Then she began speaking in tongues! They call it our “Heavenly language,” but it’s a language God has yet to reveal to me. I had no idea what she was saying, so I listened for a few syllables I thought made a word I recognized, but I should have guessed that our Heavenly language would not be English. Then I said, “Yes, Lord, I’m asking of you what this woman is asking. And that, too, all of it! Your humble servant wants the same things, so please send them down from Heaven in a mighty way. I ask all of this in your precious name, Amen and Amen again.”

Fortunately, everyone rose to a standing position within a minute of my last “Amen,” and our host went to the kitchen to set up for dinner. I had worked up an appetite doing all that praying, and was grateful that the only prayer left was to bless the food.    

 

 
 
 
 
 
 

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