I am going home to thee, to thy home, to thy home …

Celtic Prayer

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Thus the beginning of a Celtic prayer about death.

The Celts, I am one, realize that the material world is close to the eternal world, the visible is tethered to the invisible – indeed, the visible world, when life is accepted and lived, shows you to the invisible, eternal reality.

For us, leaving mortal life is going home where there is no pain, no darkness and you are beyond the reach of all hurt, all disappointment, all weakness and betrayal.

The man David for whom I made a prayer request in yesterday’s blog post, died on December 29, 2015.

In Connemara when one is buried the sod that covers the sandy soil is cut in three sides and peeled back and the earth is prepared to receive the coffin. When the prayers have been said and the blessings made, the sod is rolled over the grave.  I think of it as a blanket.

Yes, a blanket – perpetual warmth for the long rest.

The earth is a womb and we are returned.  Returned to the clay that has become animated with us – each made of the same substance and yet each distinct as a loving artist makes each painting distinct.

Like art, we are each to tell our story and depart according to divine plan.  Thus David’s story was told.

Entering the womb ends the separation.  We are, in the end, home.  One, again – from whence we have come – back to the Maker’s workshop.

David went home.  There is perfect peace there.


Note – A special thanks to John O’Donohue and his book Anan Cara: A Book of Celtic Wisdom.  It is a treasure as he was a treasure.