Remembering Yeshua

He would have never hurt her. He stood taller than her and looked down upon her with loving eyes. Who was he to be so kind? No man had ever seen her the way he had. She remembered the day he had pulled her to the river's edge. It wasn't really all that surprising to her that there were multitudes of six petaled flowers growing all around them. It seemed that wherever they walked, new life grew all around them. His aura was shining blue into crystalline white. She sighed and breathed in the swirl of their connected Merkabah's: he was more than her lover; he was the other half of her star-soul. She was divinely incarnated feminine and he, oh, he was divinely, incarnated masculine with rough-hewn hands and a mischievous, half-cocked smile.

He picked a flower for her. She asked forgiveness for all of the pain the tearing would bring. He felt her vibe and winked at her; his very energy reminded her of the life cycle. Without death, there could be no rebirth and, the flower, when she smelled it, said into her nostrils, "Here I am, a gift for you. I hold messages of ancient connection. For you, in this breath, is held a spirit bridge to your remembrance. Remember, remember, remember. Sophia, Sophia, Sophia."

She had only ever been called Mary. It was a very common name at that time. She had never felt all that special other than...haha...she was a very mischievous girl for her day. The general culture around her had said that she must get married and obey all the rules. The Jewish religion had created simply another caste system and, of course, women were less than slaves because, at least a slave was given their own quarters for sleeping. No, she had been given by her family to a brutal man. She had left. She could not be beaten every day and still be asked to be perky for sex.

When she had met him, she had wondered what she was going to do. She had been so hungry. She could not go back to her family: they would kill her. Because she had chosen her own path for personal safety, she had been ostracized and called a whore. What was she to do?

"Breathe, breathe, breathe little bee," she spoke the mantra over and over under her breath. She had been flying with the bees since she was a child. They had taught her much about how to build multidimensional universes and, oh, the sweets they wrought, healed soul, mind and body. So, breathe, breathe, breathe, little bee and pick up that pollen and create, create, create home with flowing motion.

She would never forget THAT day. After breathing through her initial panic of being away from any family or friends, she breathed into freedom. After foraging for her food that day, she found a space in the city to be. She needed to get out of the sun for a while and she loved to listen to the sound of children at play.

Of course, that's when they met. He had been being himself: playing with the children, bringing them food and making up games no one had heard of before. These children, especially, had great need. When the Romans had invaded their land, they had brought with them many gods and these gods loved perverted sexual things and children were their main target. When a child is harmed, the energy created is like candy to these dark beings.

She marveled at his joyously strong energy: he had no fear. He could get targeted by the rulers of the land and crucified for even attempting to feed these little ones. He didn't seem to mind and kept going on with what he was doing. There was a strength about him that she felt to be so familiar. She still didn't know that they were made of ONE strength and unique to their time.

Oh, Sophia, where have your children gone? Did they all fall and forget their infinite destinies? Oh, wait, Sophia, this was not all your fault. There were dark powers who wished this upon humanity. Oh, humanity, may you wake and feel to see that what you seek has always been seeking you and your infinite mother has always been calling you home to yourself. Oh, be, bee, beee, busy beeees. Create, create, create. Your infinite mother in her grace is with YOU.

That day. That day. That day. He pulled her up and gave her grace. The only way to know love is to feel it in our bodies and see it with our minds eye and for those who do not know love, this is only a mystery. Her heart beat in a fluttering motion, her belly released and a giggle escaped her throat. Was she about to sing? He became her everything that day. What is it to feel the merging of two souls meant to collide? He looked through and into her. She felt the pull and knew she wouldn't leave his side for the rest of her life. And, no, she didn't leave. But, she could have no idea what would be asked of her: to love is become the ultimate sacrifice and to feel all as the other does.

Oh, butterfly, beeeee and like a beeeee, fly.

The purple flower pulled her in, and she remembered: all is not as it seems. It was time.

Where would they go?

She was meant to meet his mother.

When she met that starry lady woven of sunlight and lavender, she knew she was home.

Breathe, breathe, breathe, little bee: you are home and chosen to be free.