A dream for my friends

I saw Jesus softly folding the most beautiful clothes.
Some were silk and velvet, all different sizes and shapes,
some had great long sleeves and lace,
but some were jeans.

I could see shapes like capes
and shapes like bikinis,
I’m sure there were wedding dresses,
Halloween costumes, little league uniforms,
favorite pajamas.

Jesus was putting them away so carefully –
each one — in a drawer with sachets and rose petals.

I never think of Jesus and laundry,
but it didn’t seem blasphemous –

so I asked what he was doing
and he said these were the memories
of all God’s children with dementia
and he was folding them up
to make sure not a one would be torn or lost.

He said — the very first thing those children do
when they come home
is find their drawer.
Oh, what a fun time that is!

Sometimes they dress up
in every memory at the same time —
they are so happy to find them again.
They dance around – swirling and swishing,
recognizing everyone
and burying their faces in
the fresh-washed scent of their old joys.

Then like some wonderful crazy Paris runway
they walk out to the throne
modeling the wardrobe of the heart.

And the angels hold up mirrors.

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11 Responses to A dream for my friends

  1. Marie Lucca says:

    Another amazing post that set the tone and focus for my prayer time this morning. Thank you!!

  2. Kris Firth says:

    Maren I appreciate many of your posts on Gifts in Open Hands, but every now and then one really touches me, as this one did. Beautiful. Thanks.

  3. Thank you, always, for a heart so open to receive and record such inspired visions.

  4. Maren says:

    Thank you all. some of you know that this comes from my lived experience of fifteen years caring for family with Alzheimer’s disease and learning how much love is not limited by anything, even recognition, even memory.

  5. Dee Ledger says:

    Maren, this is so beautiful and touching…and true. My favorite lines…”Sometimes they dress up in every memory at the same time–they are so happy to find them again…” and “the fresh-washed scent of old joys…” I am reminded of a place I regularly visited in FL as a hospice chaplain…a special unit that tried to help their guests reconnect with old joys and helped families reconnect and dance with their beloved…It was tender, special, and so very needed. And I am reminded of how fabric and clothing, and the act of “dressing up” and “dressing down” can connect us to lost parts of ourselves no matter our “memory” status…Don’t we all suffer from memory lapses at some point? Don’t we all sometimes struggle to retrieve the solace and preciousness of joys received? Sometimes I think that angels sometimes wear the most interesting disguises and give hope in the most interesting of ways…and teach us how to live our seasons whole-heartedly in tune to one another. Thank you for your post. It was my morning devotion.

  6. Maren says:

    Thank you Dee for your wonderful reflection which expands what I shared!

  7. Nicolette Wellington says:

    Thank you Maren,

    This is beautiful!

    Nicolette Wellington

  8. rezrevres says:

    This just such a beautiful poem, Maren. I sure hope that after my Mom crossed-over she too found her drawer and buried her face “in the fresh-washed scent of (her) old joys.” She certainly deserved to “dance around – swirling and swishing, recognizing everyone.” What a wonderful portrait you paint with all the gentle hues of your word palate. Thank you so much.

  9. Maren says:

    Thank you, Matthew. I think that she did.

  10. Rev. Jane MacIntyre says:

    WOW! Guess what’s being read for tonight’s Deacon’s meeting devotional!!

    Miss you.

  11. Maren says:

    That’s lovely. Well, I am sure I will be north again!

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