Whisper of Time

Written By: Deanna Marie Battista

 God has spoken through my heart, through my wounds that are now healed, and most especially through my pen. It never ceases to amaze me the miracles Jesus is capable of. Through the intention of speaking of catholic traditions, through the lens of wanting to adhere to others which light to grasp through spiritual warfare; and through the subtlety in how he can still show you he is here. With you always. Something as simplistic as a musical note came to whisper out time to me. It’s been twelve years since an angel's wings came to hold me through the embrace of sunlight intermixed with the royalty of a certain color. The singes of a death that rang through me like there would never be a tomorrow. It’s been nine years since a tiny anchor used to catapult me falling towards my faith, and I had crossed paths. It’s been exactly a multitude of hours since death yet again has turned another's heart hollow. Yesterday something miraculous happened. When the chorus in church sings, it awakens something deep within one’s soul. When the bells ring out announcing the unity of reverence and worship, it’s another anomaly of gifts. When the eleventh hour strikes its chord and the hourglass of the past echo’s once more, it’s God’s will weaving through the delicate and intricate fates he has created. What a beautiful note of praise, once its light can reflect and shine throughout your whole life. Through fleeting conversations and a slighted goodbye, once again I am brought into the expanse of God calling out to me to be more than just a friend. To truly be his daughter in all senses of the word. To all the more steep in the holiness I want to give in the world. To further the map of hope and discipleship towards the faces of those who continue to keep their eyes closed, I have been given something yet again, another variation to the way in which my Father holds my hand even within his stead. With this story I impart, through much reflection, my faith has been so granted another unlocked level of what else I’m not sure. But for the traditions, the great works of the saints before me I am amazed. Through the ribbon that ties everyone close together. Through the moonlight that shines even when she sleeps. Through the way my heart still beats. Within the pillars of my found treasure, the color of my faith I will always cherish and never forsake. I will always pray to the one who knows best, when I, alike you, with everyone around, give parts of my pen to synchronize; to uphold paradise to tie each other's faith together. What a great story to unfold when time whispers out singing songs from angel’s chests you get to hold close. The sky is changing once more, with Papa’s death anniversary knocking on my soul hinges door. I may shed tears, and I may wonder, but through this faith filled courage of mine, blessed I will always be and will always yearn for others to be set free. Just like for what God has done to me. I shield the crest of what matters most and profess what Jesus has always promised. Throughout the history of my never ending story, the truth that will heal us all. Through fear, doubt, pain, and suffering; the time to awaken within the light of day is now. What greater story could ever be foretold when the one author of tomorrow keeps on writing our scrolls. Of what our lives will truly be. Through the somber parts within healing history, and a glimpse of what his will can do, no one freight. All we have to do is wait, because we already know the rest. 

Yours Truly, 

                Deanna Marie 

                             Always Writing with Light