As I have mentioned before, I am prone to seeing, smelling and hearing things that other people do not. The sensitivity began when I quit using, and the phenomenon grew the stronger my faith. I have asked God for this gift, or at least the honing of it-I want the Holy Spirit to guide me in each and every way. This is profound for me-a woman who suffered a great deal of trauma and anxiety, leading to CPTSD-let’s just say there is no way I wouldn’t be in a straight jacket if not for my precious Jesus.
There is a lovely pair of doves who frequent our yard. I see them on the barn roof, telephone wire, and most recently? On a bottle of perfume. Let me explain:
For the past two years, in which I have become one with nature (or at least more observant) my very best thinking/praying is done out in Mother Nature. My gratitude runs deep, as I know God put me here, out in the ethereal mountains of Central Pennsylvania. No, I did not appreciate the raw beauty, nor the quaint ways of the Amish. I was blind to everything when I self-medicated. I try not to dwell on the years I have lost.
The doves, crap. Okay, well I have come to think of these particular lovebirds to be my mother and father. They greet me knowingly, bringing with them comfort and a deep peace. My mother wore L’eur de Temps perfume. I go for the woodsy, sweet types of spritz. Grace, Tabu, Channel No. 5, Obsession. I bought a bottle of her favorite to remind me of her, and remind me it does.
One afternoon, I could smell the aroma of my mother. The scent of L’eur de Temps thickened the air, in a pleasing, soothing way. Now, I have only used this scent a very few times. It smelled wonderful on Mary Lou, but not so much on me. I would smell the bottle often, and immediately I was with her, all those years ago. I took the bottle and looked it over, but this time? I studied it. I was shocked to see the bottle near empty, as I said I used it rarely.
“Could it be?,” I said out loud to myself.
And as I gazed at the glass bottle, I let out a sound of alarm combined with awe: right there they were, so delicate-two doves, floating weightlessly, hopelessly in love~