The Story of Grace

Your path is not at random nor by chance. When the mind is open and the heart longs for something more, signs appear along the way, and miracles show up at your door…

It was September. I had decided, quite last minute, to book a trip to San Fransisco to attend an unexpected international conference that my friend coaxed me into. It was the Attitudinal Healing International 40th Anniversary conference led by the beloved Dr. Gerald (Jerry) G. Jampolsky, author of “Love is Letting Go of Fear”, based on A Course in Miracles, which she knew I studied. And they were doing facilitator training, which I also felt drawn to. She had met Jerry and Diane the previous spring and felt a stirring that I should meet with them. And so, I flew to San Francisco (as I told Jerry the last night) “on a wing and a prayer”.

I met many new friends at the conference, and received my facilitator training at the same time. It was incredible. We practiced the power of love and forgiveness each day in small groups. It confirmed all I had learned in studying the Course. I found myself opening my heart to all, as the power of love permeated in the eyes of many, young and old, male and female, friend and stranger. This was God in action.

On my spare time, I walked the hills of San Fransisco, quietly reflecting on the beauty of the Precidio (an old army outpost now public recreation and conference centre) right by the Golden Gate bridge, including its majestic cypress and eucalyptus treed forests along my footpath (where monks used to walk), and the final lookout point for Alcatraz..

I kept wondering at the meaning of this trip and how it would impact my work when I returned. In truth, I wanted to have a spiritual experience that would be a definitive sign I was on the right path, so I prayed for one, or two, or three!

Just before the end of my trip, I got a text from my husband in Toronto:

“I picked up that book you were reading before you left, and it mentions a Grace cathedral in San Francisco. You should go see it.” My host at the bed and breakfast lit up and said, “Oh yes! there is a beautiful evening candlelit service tomorrow night and you can walk the labyrinth too. Definitely go!”

That was it!  The book was called The Source of Miracles by Kathleen McGowan about the Lord’s Prayer and how walking the labyrinth at Grace Cathedral led to the recovery of her dying infant son. The labyrinth is an ancient meditative device that brings the walker closer to God. Given I was all about miracles, I would walk it as well!

Then a series of events occurred which I could not have predicted. Nor did I even notice until after they coalesced at Grace cathedral…

On the last day of the conference I sat with a young man I will call Paul, as Jerry delivered his final speech to the crowd. Just then, a young baby, from one of the participants from Australia, began crawling beneath the chairs and causing a bit of a raucous for which we all laughed. Jerry, who was also celebrating his 90th and is a man of great patience and wisdom, called to have the baby brought up to the stage and began talking with her. Then he turned to the audience and said,

“When you can look see yourself in the eyes of this baby, you will have understood this work.”

The baby’s name was… Grace.

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Later that day one of the musicians, Scott came up to deliver a humorous rendition of how to live life with less angst and worry. He strummed his guitar and made us laugh and sing along with his silly song. As I stood in line to buy his CD, a woman beside me pointed out his name and then said she was thinking of changing her name also…

The musician’s name was… Scott Grace. 

As I was standing saying goodbye to people, the young man Paul asked if he could come along on my journey to Grace Cathedral. Then we noticed another woman I will call  Linda looked a little lost in the lobby and asked her if she’d like to join us for the evening. She had never been to church in such a long, long time, and felt a little wounded by past experiences. Surprisingly, she said yes. 

Back at the house, I gave Linda a tour and we got ready for our evening at Grace Cathedral. She told me how her mother died recently, and that she always felt closer to her Aunt. She had even received a sign once which she knew was from her Aunt. I felt a tingle as she spoke, and told her I felt her presence. She felt the same.   

It didn’t occur to me what her Aunt’s name was until later… 

Just then Paul pulled up smiling, ready to take us to Grace.

There is much More to this story in… 

The Story of Grace Cont’d

 

 

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