Full Moon Fire For Festival of Humanity

Ancient wisdom teachings speak of the Festival of Humanity or The Festival of The Christ. It is said, “The higher interlude of the spiritual year culminates in the Gemini full moon – in a Festival which celebrates the spiritual potential of humanity to unify the personal will with the Will of God. On this day the Christ stands before God as the representative of humanity, the “eldest in a great family of brothers,” and focalises the united aspiration of humanity into an invocative demand for more Light and Love. Through Christ, the response of deity pours forth into humanity, uplifting human consciousness and establishing a culture of goodwill and right human relations on earth.”

I really embraced the energy of this full moon and the blessing I could feel being poured out onto humanity. And oh, how we all need it at this time. Personally, there has been great sorrow in my life since the loss of my husband, mom and sister.

On this glorious evening Patty created an amazing bonfire. Charlene, the three horses, two huskies, the doodle, the new puppy, the blue ghost fireflies and I all came together to enjoy this magical evening.

As we sat around a roaring fire, the horses were so wanting to be in the middle of it all. Conner kept coming up behind me and nuzzling the back of my neck. I could not help but break out into such laughter, as I have not heard come forth for such a very long time.

In that evening something magical happened. I felt a quickening in my heart. An opening in an area nearly closed. Like the softening of scar tissue that had formed out of grief and loss. And in the morning I arose feeling such joy and gratitude. For certain I had received a great blessing under that lovely full moon at Festival of Humanity. Thank you Spirit.

Looking back…

This is how the “About Rev. Jean Wanta” looks at this moment in time…

“I am a wife, mother and grandmother. As my children have grown, so have I. They taught me so much in those early days and that continues to this day. Now, beautiful young women they are making their way on their journey, nurturing their own children, relationships and careers. Along with my precious husband, they are my heart and my greatest joy.”


I remember the day, some time ago when I read that on my own web page and wept. I thought at the time, I am going to have to change this page. But instead I immediately closed it and forgot about it. Too painful. I couldn’t face it just then. It was like the first time I had to check the box that said “Widow”. I thought I would be sick. I couldn’t believe that I was a widow. I had never paid any attention to that box before as I had happily checked the married box for 44 years. I don’t think it ever occurred to me how painful it must be to someone, having to check that box.

Sadly, I have not been good about keeping up with my website since the day Brian went ill. My life and that of my family changed forever on that first day of June 2018. Everything that wasn’t about our precious “Papi” went to the wayside as we tried to wrap our brains around what we were being told.

It is as though I have existed in an altered state since that day. Slowly however, I can feel that I am coming back to myself. I promise in the days and months ahead, I will do better. And one of the things I will address is this first paragraph on my page as I am not a wife any longer and my most precious husband is now pure light.

So, now who am I? That is what Spirit is beginning to gently unfold. I am trusting as I go. How will my next chapter read? Walk with me. We will open it together.

Healing, a messy business

Renewal of Vows on 20th Anniversary

Healing is indeed messy at times. But I ask myself, would I trade the love that I was so blessed to know for… well….anything? No. No, I wouldn’t.

So the price is paid upon their leaving. It is paid in tears. In gut wrenching wails that come out of nowhere, unrecognizable as your own, hiding deep within your belly. In the aching and longing to hold them once again. To hear their laugh. To see their smile.

So, each day I do the best I can. And most days are good. I laugh and smile and love. And on those messy days, I don’t judge myself. I let the tears flow. I let the wails come and then go. And then, I gather myself up and give myself a hug.

Another installment paid for the love I was blessed to know.

Stairway to Heaven

As I began to clear away layers of decomposing leaves and dark rich soil, the stairs of stone began to reveal themselves. My mind wandered and danced as I worked my way from top to bottom.  My skin welcomed the cool damp air, as my descent took me closer to the rushing waters of the creek below.  Louder and louder came its song, as though it was excited at my presence.  

When the last stone appeared from beneath the debris of the forest floor, I stopped and looked up at the unearthed rocks. Rhododendrons, wild flowers, and prickly vines all pushing their way to the edge of the path.  How beautiful it was, curving slightly as it made its way to the fern covered slope above. 

At the top of the stairs, the sun shown so brightly on the lush green ferns. It felt like a magical gateway, beckoning me to come forth. I slowly climbed those lovely stone stairs. In the whispers of the wind through the forest my heart heard a small voice. Come, we have prepared a table. There is much for you here.

Take that Covid 19

No photo description available.
All of my little loves. Rachel, Trey, Maddie, Kiera, Emmy and Lily Jean

While in the mountains, or anytime I am away, I always miss my family. UPS delivered a package today that delighted me from head to toe! It was a beautiful gift from my amazing daughters and grands. Now I can literally wrap myself up in their love.

Take that Covid! Physical distancing can’t stop the love!

The Owl

Brian’s favorite place in the whole world was our back yard. Many years ago he hung a wooden swing from the massive oak that we fondly call “Grandmother”. That swing eventually lost itself to the winds and rains of time. Christmas before last, our daughter Emma gave me a new swing. Recently I took my book and made myself comfortable. The weather was lovely. Not too hot and no mosquitos in sight.

As I gently swayed back and forth, I set the book down next to me. I began taking in the colors. The ferns so green, the pink in the flowers, the blue sky with its puffy white clouds. It felt so good. For a few moments I was not missing Brian. I wasn’t worried about work or paying the bills. I was just relaxed and happy. After a short time, Brian was back in my thoughts. Out loud, I asked, Brian are you hear? If you are, give me a sign.

Well hawks come to me all of the time if I am looking for an answer or asking for confirmation of something but the owls would come out for Brian. I would rarely see them but Brian saw them all the time. As I sat quietly on the swing, swaying ever so gently I laid my head back and looked up into Grandmothers massive canopy. I was focused on a large low limb when all of the sudden, exactly where I was focusing, landed a beautiful owl. I reached down and picked up my phone. It was almost comical watching him. He would peek from behind some leaves and look straight at me. Then he would slowly tuck himself just behind the leaves and then peek out again. He stayed with me for about 5 minutes. I knew beyond any doubt that it was Brian saying hello through the owl. Moments later I could hear the song of a cardinal and there he was just above me also perched on a large branch. I firmly believe we can receive many signs through nature and the animal kingdom if we just open our hearts to the possibility.


Before we had even spoken a word to each other, on that night of June 15th, 1973, I turned to my friend and told her “If he asked me to leave with him tonight I would do it.”

Little did I know, with those words spoken, a home was being prepared for us in Jacksonville Florida. When we moved into our home we found blue prints for the pool. The date the plans were drafted was June 15th, 1973, the day we met in Wisconsin, nine years earlier. This would be the home where our children would be born, laugh and play. A home we would share for 36 blessed years. God had a wonderful plan for us. I am gratelful for the home that was prepared, the children that were gifted and now the grandchildren that fill in the empty spaces that came with Brian’s leaving.

Thank you dear Lord for all of it. For if it was your plan that we meet, then it was also in your plan that he was to leave us. I am not angry, just very sad. I am doing my best to look forward with new eyes. To see what this next chapter brings. Thank you Spirit. I am grateful.

The Apron

It began two nights ago when my sister and I were talking about the passing of our mom.  We were both missing her so.  She was telling me that if she could have one thing that belonged to mom, it would be one of her aprons. I completely understood, as that had been one of my wishes too. You see as we grew up, our mom almost always had an apron on.  With a family of 10, she spent many hours in the kitchen. And with 8 little noses, one must have an apron pocket in which to keep a handkerchief. I knew, packed away with my precious memories, I had such an apron.  I decided right then that I would not mention it but would send mine to her without a word. 

The following day while having a conversation with a friend, she shared that she’d had vision of mom on the other side. In it, mom was enjoying walking through a field of flowers and was so taken by them. I confirmed to her that mom loved flowers.  She suggested that I let mom know that I would like a sign from her and to be so bold as to be specific so that I would know that it was her. I began talking to mom but had not yet decided on a specific sign.

I forged through my treasures and there it was. I lifted the apron to my nose and face hoping to find some memory of my mom within its folds. It felt so good on my face.  I decided to put the apron on and take a selfie.  I had to laugh at myself as I draped it over my shoulders.  She should have worn it this way I thought to myself, like all superheroes wear their capes.  For she certainly was a superhero in my eyes.

This morning I opened my container of wrapping paper in hopes of finding something beautiful to wrap the apron in. I wanted it to speak of the love that was contained inside as she removed it from the mailing package. Right there on the top was a brand-new package of tissue paper. Actually, it had been there for a long time.  Now I knew why I had never used it.  It was meant for this special occasion.  A time when I would need the perfect wrapping but could not go out to shop due to the Covid19 “Stay at Home” order. It was so pretty and it was covered in flowers!  Wow, I thought to myself, mom would love this.  

 I began talking to my mom as I ever so gently folded the apron. I wanted her to know that I wasn’t giving the apron away because I didn’t value it.  Quite the contrary.  I was giving it up because I loved it so much and I knew exactly what it would mean to my sister to have such a gift.  I carefully wrapped the apron first in a lovely lavender tissue, then in an outer layer using the floral.  I didn’t want to put just any old ribbon on it, so I went to a special drawer in my office to see if I might have something.  Just on the very top of some organza bags was a single ribbon.  It was the perfect size and length of white satin.  My heart leapt with joy. I continued my conversation with my mom as I carefully coaxed the white satin ribbon into a lovely bow. Now for a card. It had to be a very special card. I knew immediately! I went to yet another drawer where I had a very special blank card that I absolutely loved. I felt the warmth of mom’s approval and deep love as I penned just one line on the most beautiful little card.  “Because I love you.  Jean”

A short time later, there was a loud knock at my kitchen door.  I got up to answer it and saw a blur of a black truck as it sped away from my house. It looked like Will’s truck.  I opened the door to find a gorgeous bouquet of spring flowers on my doorstep.  There was a note attached.  It said, “Just to say we love you”. 

Then it hit me straight in the heart!  It was a message from my mom.  My friend had seen her in a field of flowers. Now, because I had not set up an agreement with mom as to what type of sign she should send me, she used a connection that she had already made with me the day before through my friend as she spoke of my mom in the field of flowers.

I immediately asked Will if it had been he who delivered that beautiful bouquet, to which he answered that he could neither confirm nor deny such a happening.  Of course, I knew for sure then.  I went on to explain that unbeknownst to him, my mother had whispered those instructions in his ear.  He laughed and said, let me explain how it was on my end. He said that he hadn’t planned in advance to get those flowers but found himself turning left instead of right on Atlantic Blvd. and before he knew it, he had bought the bouquet and was on his way to my house.  I laughed right out loud and said “Will, meet my mother”. 

A Bundle of Love

February 12, 2020

I have never been so aware of life changes as I have been since my husband passed.  It has been a time of reflection upon what was and an opening to the possibilities of the future.  A future without him.

I recently made a major decision that was the most difficult yet.  It was the decision to stay in our home.  It took some time to weigh and measure it.  In the beginning I looked at it as, which would be less painful. Leaving this house where Brian and I had spent the last 36 years or staying and being reminded of the memories of what once was but could no longer be.

When Brian first passed, I was so raw.  It felt as though my heart had been fileted open and the very air upon it was nearly unbearable.  Just 38 days later my house, our home, was burglarized and ransacked.  My already fileted heart now felt the full impact of his leaving.  I remember asking Father Mother God, “Am I to be broken Father?  No my child, Mother whispered gently. Broken open my love, not broken. That is much different indeed.  Being broken open is a glorious happening.”

Then one day, I received a wonderful sign.  On January 30th, Will and I were dragging some trash to the street while doing some renovations to the bathroom.  As we bumped our way out, the storm door banging against our load, I made a comment to him that I had never liked the storm doors on the house.  Within about 10 minutes he had removed them both. It felt so good.  There was such a change in the energy.  Opening the door and just stepping out without the hinderance of the storm felt so freeing. 

That very evening, I heard that small soft voice say, “The storm is over.  You can settle now.  You can rest easy.”  I knew immediately that there was divine inspiration behind my removing the storm doors earlier in the day.  The symbolism was so powerful.  It was that event that really cemented my decision not to sell this house but to stay and rebuild my life. 

Just one week later, on February 6th I received a phone call from Detective Karst at the Jacksonville Sheriff’s Office.  He was calling to let me know that the man who burglarized my house had been arrested and was in jail.  I knew it!  I knew that he would be caught. 

Just days before the burglary I had said a prayer asking Creator to please help the police catch whoever was causing the mischief in our neighborhood. Then wham!  My house was broken into!  My first thought was, I guess I should have been more specific in my asking but then quickly said well, why not me?  I was the one asking for the help.  Why shouldn’t I be the catalyst for this prayer to be answered. 

When walking into my house that day, the contents of my life strewn about without care or concern, I was at first angry.  Angry that someone had gone through Brian’s desk.  Touched his things. How dare they, I thought.  How dare they violate his memory.  As I reached the bedroom where we had cared for him during his illness I was taken aback. The contents of the dressers and closet covered the floor but there in the doorway laid my prayer bundle.  It had been carried from my bureau in the master bedroom and was still bound. Its gold satin cord tied securely, just as I had left it. A vision flashed through my mind.  It was of hands holding the bundle when suddenly the hands flew up as though being burned by the bundle and it dropped to the floor.  I heard that usually small voice, booming now. “No, not that. Here no further!”  I knew that I had been given a wonderful gift.  That small prayer bundle, that was so sacred to me had been protected. The burglar was not allowed to take it and in that moment I felt so loved by God and my angels.  My prayer was being answered but a line had been drawn and I had been spared the sadness of losing my precious prayer bundle. 

As my eyes once again began scanning the destruction and my mind tried to grasp exactly what I was seeing, there it was!  Just two feet from where my prayer bundle had been dropped laid a blood- filled latex glove.  We got him, I thought excitedly!  DNA, we’ve got DNA!  As I looked more carefully, I noticed that one of the drawers that now stood open contained one black Isotoner glove.  I looked about and did not see the right glove.  Just the day before, I had placed that pair of gloves in that bureau.  Now the right glove was gone.  Well, it didn’t take a detective to surmise that the thief cut his hand on the glass as he came through the door and then found my glove as he searched the room.  Although I can only speculate, I can just image God plucking it from the pocket he probably stuffed it into and dropping it just there by my prayer bundle. 

Well that was a very long and difficult night. Megan called to let me know that Trey wanted me to stay in his room that night. He had actually given Will very specific instructions that under no circumstances was I to be allowed to stay at the house that night. He was cleaning his room top to bottom and washing his linens so that everything would be perfect for me. When Will and I arrived at their house in the wee hours of the morning, there was Trey asleep on the sofa. I slipped quietly into his bedroom to find a fluffy fresh bed and the scent of essential oils in the air. A bottle of water was next to the bed and a stack of movies on the dresser that he thought I might enjoy. He had even set up a charging station for any devices I may have with me. But even more wonderful than all of that was the powerful feeling of his love, his kindness and his compassion. And as I laid my weary body down on his bed, his love filled my fileted heart like a soothing balm and I slipped into a restful sleep.

Brian’s Memory Honored Through a Boy Named Blake

Jean’s Journal  –  December 23, 2019

Evening was falling as I collected my things from the car and walked to the mailbox to gather the holiday wishes of the day.  There were several Christmas cards and one overstuffed, letter sized envelope with three Santa stamps and no return address. Although I was immediately intrigued, I first opened the cards.  When I got to the white envelope, I looked carefully at the handwriting but did not recognize it.  Upon opening it, a flat wrapped package revealed itself.  I loved the wrapping paper. It had an old model pickup truck with a dog inside and a Christmas tree in the bed.  Printed neatly on the front of the package in black sharpie was my name.  There was no card or tag.  Curious.  I carefully opened the package to find a thick packet of papers.  Part of me wanted to glance ahead at them to satisfy my curiosity.  And yet the other part of me said no.  Go slow.  I don’t know that I can explain the energy that I felt.  It was almost magical.  Something inside me letting me know this was not to be rushed.  Move slowly.  Savor the moment.

Now, it is important to interject here that I had just returned from dropping gifts to a little family that a group of us are trying to help.  This single mom and her two young boys are homeless after having fled Alabama to escape a bad family situation. 

The first page was a short type written note, which I will come back to.  The second was a copy of a story from the internet about a boy who is living in a domestic violence shelter with his mom.  He had written a very touching letter to Santa that had gone viral. With mom’s permission the letter was made public.  So many stepped forward who wanted to help Blake and others in the shelter that a Santa’s Sack and Amazon Wish List were created. Here is his letter.

The pages that followed this one were copies of an order placed by my anonymous gift giver to that Amazon Wish List for Blake.  Every item on Blake’s wish list was accounted for…well except for the very, very, very good dad.

The Amazon receipts showed the following:

1 of: Camping Survival Compass

1 of: Merriam Webster’s Elementary Dictionary, New Edition

1 of: Timex Ironman Classic Watch

1 of: Chapter Books:  Legend of the Star Runner and The Dangerous Book for Boys

1 of:  Stuffed Teddy Bear in Taekwondo Uniform

The simple type written note that the sender wrote went as follows.


Dear Jean and Family,

Merry Christmas.  Hope you know how loved you are.  Came across this letter from a little 7- year old boy at a domestic violence shelter asking for a very, very, very good dad and some gifts. 

What better way to honor your husband and you and your love.  Wanted to make sure that you know that his memory will not only live on in your immediate family but also in the works of others.

We see you and hear you and acknowledge your loss.  We love you so.  The best way to honor him would be to bring joy to someone else in a quiet way.  This is our attempt to be thoughtful and generous like him.  Hopefully one Christmas surprise wrapped in Christmas paper.


A fellow keeper of light

I so wanted to share this blessed happening in my writings, but now that I am here in this chair, I don’t know if I can.  How do I put into words the magnitude of what this kind gesture has meant?  I really don’t know how to begin. 

I am always delighted when Spirit orchestrates such lovely happenings.  Events that are so obviously Divinely Inspired are certainly no accident.  As I look back over the last couple of weeks, sadness has often gripped my heart. Holiday preparations sparked many great memories of the 45 Christmas’s that Brian and I have shared but with the memories come the painful reminders that there will be no more with him at my side. 

With this gift comes comfort. Knowing that even though Brian is no longer in the physical, through this “Fellow Keeper of Light” his legacy of quiet thoughtfulness and generosity has been carried on. 

I will forever treasure this Christmas gift. And many years from now, when I too am on the other side, this envelope will be found amongst my treasures.  This amazing soul heard the whispers of Spirit and through a 7-year old boy named Blake, has kept my husband’s memory alive in a truly kind and thoughtful way.  Thank you.