I began the journey to her like all journeys with humiliation and trepidation as I know that there is always something that challenges you on a journey to Her. This day was unlike all the others , the sun was not shining, in fact the Mediterranean climate had turned from a colour of azure blue to grey and inky blue, It was raining, heavily and the wind was battering normally dry landscape. “Ok” I said here we go. 

The drive was very different to we left the palm trees and the cedars,, the terracotta houses and the olive trees to a suburban scene. Marseille graffiti adorned the high concrete walls that now began to enclose my car and made me feel claustrophobic. Opening the windows to wasn’t an option as the cool sea air had been devoured by the petrol fumes of the many cars that travelled alongside me in this now concrete jungle. I felt a slight fear and took a big breath, also holding back some nausea. I felt her and I was trying to ignore it, breath it in deeply , breathe by breathe I was getting closer. My son said out loud ‘Mum do you know she’s not a real black Madonna? Apparently, there are certain characteristics that they have to have and she doesn’t have them all.”  Really! I thought, what a coincidence ( there is no coincidence only synchronicity, Carl Jung would say)  and so the veiling of her as a ‘fake’ Madonna was already revealing itself and I was preparing for the lesson she may give me. More nausea came over me.

As we arrived in Carnoux en Provence, Notre Dame d’Afrique was not the usual church that homes a Black Madonna, nor the kind of church I would visit on my tours of France. There was no gothic façade,  no gold and beautiful murals or decadent paintings and statues of saints. This was a square white 1960s church, it was a huge masculine block building with no room for opulence or frills.   Nothing about this building revealed what was inside, not even the name of the church. It felt like a prison, a penitentiary build to hold prisoners.  Only I felt something bursting from that building that no prison or  concrete block could hold.

I walked in and  felt her hugeness. Energetically and by size. She held out her dark ands and beckoned me to her. It was like being squeezed into a humongous room with equally colossal energy. I felt so small and compressed .. though the church in its proportions were also lofty and spacious, clean , pristine , modern. The paint new and shiny, there was no resemblance to the places I have witnessed Madonna’s in before .. none at all. This was different.. she was different. 

What struck me first before anything was the black veil that they had put over her face, I said out loud “ I can’t believe they have put that over her face” and my partner and son , just looked at me blankly. I got closer , I was becoming angry, why would they veil her like that so you can’t see her face and I said it again “ Why have they covered her face?” Both men looked at me … again blankly. So I got all the way up and I could not see her face because of this black mesh type veil and so I desperately tried a different angle to see if I could look in to her face at the side.  I just could not see her face , at all. WHY? WHY WOULD THEY DO THIS? And I felt so very distressed by it. 

As I took a breath to try to calm myself down I walked to the side of her … and suddenly there was no veil.  

IT 

HAD

COMPLETELY 

 GONE….

 I said to my partner I saw a veil, its gone I can see her face.. he said “I really didn’t know what you were talking about”  I looked at my son and he looked again at me blankly ‘mum, I didn’t answer you , because I could not see what you were seeing”   I had to sit down before her. She was veiled … for sure, I was in a panic that we had come all this way and I could not see her face. …  but now I could see her face clearly. 

AND 

SHE 

WAS SO

BEAUTIFUL.

I sat with her and what she had given me. It was the lesson and as the church had no lights on to illuminate her face I could also see that she was the blackest Madonna I had ever seen bowled me over with her energy and also the invisibility veil that she had decided to show me. 

WOW… POW! She hit me with her lesson and the transmission from which I should give from her through The Sacred Rose Mystery School.  I sat looking at the  bright blue silk gown that they had dressed her in and a white brides veil that hung from her head, it was white … not black as I had seen it. The darkness of her face hid her beauty unless you got close enough to see just how perfect she was. 

She was modern ,new fresh , she was for the NOW, she was current, she was it , she was all those Black Madonna’s I had seen from the past and the previous days rolled into one and she stood before me and ‘HERE I AM- THIS IS ME NOW’ 

There is a veil that hides us as women, hides our true face, our true beauty , our true power, it is a veil that we have co-created with the stories history has given us and the events that have been Imprinted upon us, it is a false veil; one others have told us and one we have old ourselves. It is a black veil and it is hidden in our shadow , it is shrouded by the unconscious. It holds all our history , it holds the past … and it is time that that veil is removed.

THE VEIL OF THE BLACK MADONNA 

The lady of Afrique has been veiled by society, by the stories of the fake, the stories of her blackened skin. It was time that veil dropped and the truth of her Black Beauty revealed.. in Her , in you , in all of us.

Join me in the unveiling :

VEIL OF THE BLACK MADONNA 10th November 2022  21:00pm Paris time