This article appeared in our October 2003 issue.
Ever since I could remember, I had envisioned being a mother. It would simply happen. I imagined how many children I would have, their sexes, their names. As I matured, my desire to be a mother evolved into a deeper, spiritual force, without the specifics. Waiting patiently for years, I embraced the vision of a beloved life partner with whom I could fulfill my dream. This vision vas affirmed when I fell in love with my husband, James. From the beginning, our love flowed beautifully, as if originating from an infinite spring gurgling forth, blessing our lives. We both believed that conceiving a child was the opportunity to manifest more love.
The intensity of this vision hit me profoundly a year into our marriage on a spectacular evening high atop Mt. Shasta. I was at a concert with friends, cradling their precious infant, and as the music and beauty of the night sky made me dizzy with joy, I looked at this baby’s pure face and back at the stars. “If it’s God’s will,” my heart said to this little one, “send a little spirit friend to bless our lives.”