8/22/09 Home and Getting Back Into it/ Flying on the Shakti--wow

I got up and get ready fast (for me).  We left at our agreed time:11:30.  We hoped to get to Chicago in time to see Bapuji before the birthday party at the Indian Center.  

MKate had a GPS and we turned it on.  At first it was not working,  then MKate stopped the car and reset it.  The voice on the GPS was English and hard to understand,  but it worked.  MKate is a strong driver.  I'm amazed.  She just hits the road and goes.  The traffic was stopped for over 1/2 hour on 65 N and we were lost for a little while.  So . . . .  we got to our hotel,  and just had time to drop off our stuff and use the bathroom.  

 I called Nayna and told her we were in our hotel down the block from her place.  I wanted to follow someone to the Indian Temple.  We got to the house fast,  Bapuji stays with Nayna and Pancaj Dave in Chicago, the house is decorated and looks welcoming and warm.  The garage door is open and there are shoes lined up on the cement floor.  Luke and MKate went in.  I was hoping that they'd decide to follow Bapaji's car as we did last year. I didn't want to disturb Bapuji by coming in as well.  He was just getting into the shower and getting ready for his birthday party.  MKate and Luke decided not to follow Bapuji's car.  Nayna sent out food for us.  Amazing rice pancakes with sauce,  carrot pudding and other delicious Indian treats.  

Instead we trusted the GPS but somehow got lost anyway,  maybe because we dripped sauce on the screen of the GPS and when she wiped it off,  MKate changed the language to Dutch,  which we don't understand.   Finally, we got to the temple,  a little late, not too late.

As we were getting seated ,  Bapuji was giving out roses.  We think they might be the roses we sent for his birthday.   We hope.  It feels blest to be part of the festivities.   There were about 500 people there to honor Bapuji for his grace in their lives throughout the 12 years that he's been coming to America.   

Singing.  Dancing.  Kids and adults.  Toward the end of the program,  nine of the woman who have served Bapuji for all the years did a lovely dance.  They danced for the divine,  for their own personal Saint,  for love,  for gratitude--and as they whirled around . . . .Bapuji's Guru, Ranga Avaduta,  appeared and blessed all the children of Bapuji.  He blessed MKate,  and Luke and me.  He blessed all the children that have came to Bapuji with sadness have been uplifted.  I didn't see Ranga Avadutaji,  but many others did.  Still, hearing of His appearance uplifted me,  and gave me a deep feeling of security and peace.  I knew that something intensely spiritual had come about.  I could feel it.  I don't want to share specifics.  Now,  I knew what had created those intense feelings and experiences.

As last year,  when the program was over,  Bapuji had the children and the Westerners--MKate, Luke and me among them go up on stage right next to his chair.  The lights were shut down and we got to swing lighted hearts around our heads.  I love that part.  My heart necklace went out and Luke gave me his.  I plan to remember that when I get the chance to do a favor for him.  Bapuji's helper told me that He was extra glad to see me,  and that make me feel like magic inside.   It feels like young love.  When I went up for darshan,  I told Bapuji that I loved him and we hugged.  Yummmy.  Hugging a Saint.  No words can discribe this experience. 

After 5 hours of festivities,  Bapuji left.  As He was leaving the building,  He looked right at me and put His hand on His heart and sent me all His love.  I started to cry.  Someone put their hand out to support me and to share the grace.    

After Bapuji left,  we all had a feast.  You can sit anywhere you want and we always meet neat people.  We met Judy B's friend,  Kiki.  I've heard about Kiki for so many years,  now we were eating with her and getting to know her.  She told me she has a miracle to share,  so I gave her my card.  I hope she decides to e-mail me.  We also met an older woman in a red wig.  She told me that her name was Kamala.  I said,  Kelly?  She answered,  No,  Kamala.  Baba Muktanada gave that name to me.  That's when we realized that we were sitting together for a reason.  First,  Ron,  from Bear Valley ,  now Kamala.  Hummmm.

I love Indian food.  The food at a Bandara,  feast in honor of a Saint,  is blessed and tastes amazing.