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    Posted December 25, 2013 by
    Annandale, Virginia
    This iReport is part of an assignment:
    The written word: Your personal essays

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    To My Dear Sister, Israel


    There comes a point when the complex stories we tell ourselves become so deeply engrained in our culture that we lose the ability to see the story from a perspective other than the one originally presented, and it's not until another complex story line comes along side of it and grafts into the original that we begin to see conversations that we should have had long, long ago.


    This is one of those stories....




    My dearly beloved sister, Israel


    I am writing to you today with respect and admiration. Though I know who you are, I doubt you would have ever heard of me. I am an outlier of your family...a distant little brother, you could say. My name is Amí, or "my people," as the Hebrew would reveal, and I am here to represent a woman that I think you should know about.


    Although you were never introduced to her in the Torah, she has always been there, wanting so deeply to know you. She was not permitted to speak during the days in which these scriptures were written, and as such, you will never see her no matter how many times you read them. Since pictures could not yet be taken then and her voice could not be recorded, it takes a much different set of instincts to know where and how to look for her. We have to look for what's missing rather than what's there in black and white.


    You should have been introduced to her on the very first day you opened your eyes. Your skin should have touched her skin within moments of you taking your first breath. Her heart is affectionate and tender, like the quiet, glowing embers of a fire that warms you on a cold, wintery night, yet because she was never permitted to know you, that warmth can sometimes be triggered into a ferocious maternal fury.


    She knows that if she presents herself to you too strongly, you will reject her outright. After all, you have been taught indirectly for so very long that she doesn't even exist. She is my mother....and she is yours.... Her name is Rechem. As you know, that name means Womb in Hebrew.


    When she was engaged to your Father, he told her that she would share his title as Jehovah Rechem, or "God of the Womb," but since you have never known of her, that quite clearly did not happen. There is much about the Father, actually, that he has never told you, but since he is, at least from your perspective, an eternal creature, he most definitely has a history before the creation of the earth. There is a reason why the garden was named the a Garden of Eden, she says, but unless you knew the story about his own mother, you would never know that Eden was her name. You also wouldn't know what happened to your Father when Eden tragically died, but if you did know, it would help explain a great deal why he was so quick to drown our children in the Great Flood.


    That day, she told me in tears, was the absolute worst day of her life, as she begged and pleaded for him not to do it. She wanted so desperately to have at least some voice in raising the children, and she knew that if she could try a more nurturing approach, they wouldn't frustrate him so much. You may not believe this, but this earth in all its complexity was actually her idea, while all the other planets you see around us that cannot support life were his attempts. They are missing that maternal instinct and protective layer that shields our planet...the one you call the Ozone Layer. That is a womb....just like the womb you came out of. And if you are willing to look deeper, the lunar cycle of 29.5 nearly matches the cycle of every woman on earth. This planet was her design...not his, but it may be too late to try and tell you this.


    There is much more that she wants you to know, including what you may need to tell the Christians about Jesus...if they will listen. They do not know...nor can they even comprehend that he may in fact not be coming back at all. He tried to make a place for them, but the Father was never satisfied with what he did. He was always so adamant that everything be absolutely perfect, and quite honestly, he could never get past the foundation. He realizes that this makes him look like a groom that has abandoned his bride waiting at the altar for over two thousand years now, and even if he were to come back, he has no idea how he could explain his absence.


    This is such a complete mess...and there are so many conversations that should have taken place long, long ago that never happened. And now....where would we even start? The children are so fiercely divided, and because so many believe John's words as he wrote the book of Revelations, the environment is now in a tail spin.


    Replace the earth? Throw this one away? I am here to tell you that it is very far from being disposable. Our mother designed it to last millions of years, not tens of thousands....yet the Christians remain entrenched in their beliefs and tell each other to worship the creator and not the created. They follow our horribly wounded and frightened father...who is too afraid to change himself, so instead of modeling a healthy, consistent, adaptive response that is critical to every species on earth, his own fears hold him back and causes him to tragically model rigidity instead. This is just one of the many reasons the church continues to struggle so very much.


    Please, dear sister...please write back to me. I have studied under our mother for three years now...and there are so many things I want to talk with you about. Above all, we need to discuss the childhood and upbringing of Moses, as there are pieces of his own upbringing in the house of Hatchepsut that are embedded throughout his books.


    With all my love and deepest admiration,


    Your faithful younger brother,


    Amí of J. Rechem
    "My people of the God of the Womb"

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