JOURNEY TO THE NETHERLANDS: DAY EIGHT

Today’s Prayer to Passage continues within the ancient scriptures of the “Nag Hamadi”. This month’s spiritual devotion to these texts will be taking place between June 1 – June 30, 2017.

Today I pray, “Dear God, Today is day eight of my transformational journey to the Netherlands. I will continue this prayer as the evening arrives. Thank You for this journey. Amen.”

Following my prayer, I held the closed book in my hands and opened it to reveal this passage:

“Then providence came forth from silence, and the living silence of the Spirit, and the Word of the Father, and a light. She […] the five seals which the Father brought forth from his bosom, and she passed through all the aeons which I mentioned before. And she established thrones of glory, and myriads of angels without number who surrounded them, powers and incorruptible glories, who sing and give glory, all giving praise with a single voice, with one accord, with one never-silent voice, […] to the Father, and the Mother, and the Son […], and all the pleromas that I mentioned before, who is the great Christ, who is from silence, who is the incorruptible child Telmael Telmachael Eli Eli Machar Machar Seth, the power which really truly lives, and the male virgin who is with him, Youel, and Esephech, the holder of glory, the child of the child, and the crown of his glory, […] of the five seals, the pleroma that I mentioned before.

There, the great self-begotten living Word came forth, the true god, the unborn physis, he whose name I shall tell, saying, […]aia[…] thaOthOsth[…], who is the son of the great Christ, who is the son of the ineffable silence, who came forth from the great invisible and incorruptible Spirit. The son of the silence and silence appeared…”
—NAG HAMADI SCRIPTURES

This morning I did awaken and enjoy another hotel breakfast downstairs. I came back up to my third-floor room, showered, dresses, primped, and left abruptly for a swift walk to the ATM down the street and a 40-minute walk to the “tickets” office where I purchased a ticket to the countryside. At 11:30 a.m. I boarded a bus to the land of windmills aspect of the Netherlands. The bus was a double-decker. It was full of tourists. Of the bus full of tourists, I was one of two traveling solo.

There was a young woman on the bus named Maria. She was from Moscow, Russia. We sat next to each other at lunch following a tour of a cheese making shop in a charming Dutch village called “Marken”. The windmills were in a small farming community called “Voldendam”. In Marken, there was also a clog-making shop which we visited and had the opportunity to watch clogs being made from brick of wood to shoe. And we visited a Stroopwafel shop (stroopwafels are a traditional small wafer-like waffle with caramel pressed between to waffles) where we had the opportunity to view stroopwafels birth themselves into the delectable little treats that they are.

The trip out to the countryside was much needed. Emotionally and spiritually. I needed to reconnect myself to my own individuality, my own sense of making it on my own. My own sense of not getting caught up in the fate and in the destiny of a lover’s charm. I needed sovereignty. And solace. And independent comfort. All the same, only worded differently.

As the bus approached the city, I reconnected with my love for Amsterdam. And I felt for the first time like I was “home”. I texted my host-heavenly upon arriving back to my hotel room: “I’m ‘home’!” He texted me back: “I’m glad you went, must have been beautiful. If you want, let’s grab lunch together tomorrow, then you can finish off whatever you want before you leave?”

It was actually difficult for me to spend the evening alone. Spending nine days alone was always the intention of this trip. I got tripped up on love. I walked around the city, returned to the hotel, and fell asleep. Heartache. Who could have predicted I would feel this way? Angels who brought us together? Sure. I’ll offer that, and accept that. This makes for some very sensationalized reality television. I’m being facetious, yet it’s true!

He did communicate some incredibly sweet tones of love to me…
“Lol, it’s all good beautiful. Feeling better? You seemed so sad”
“Trophy man works for me πŸŽ‰πŸ˜Ž night beautiful xxx”
“That’s exciting, got the pancakes yet? Need help finding some?” (He was consistently active in assisting me with local food findings.)
“Wearing something I can’t rip off, that’s grave 😘”
“You’re good luck btw. Friend called about getting me an apartment from next week after I left πŸŽ‰”
“…Unless you need help in the shower”
“You’re gorgeous, can’t blame me. Sounds good”
“Despite being a fan of the written word, and occasionally self-proclaimed poet πŸ˜‹, I’m not sure that I could write something like you did for me. If nothing else, I’m glad that I met you. In a time where integrity and spontaneity are dead, you have been fantastic at both. I am unsure why someone would let you go, because I am unable to fault you in any way and have not had this much fun in longer than I can remember.”

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