There are moments in the sacred story where words grow thin and light breaks through. Ascension Day is one of those moments.
Not as loud as Easter or as heart-wrenching as Good Friday, the Ascension is quieter. A gentle lifting. A letting go. A movement upward and onward, not just of Christ—but of us all. A turning point where heaven and earth exchange a knowing glance, and we are invited to live with our heads in the clouds and our feet on holy ground.
And yet… what does that really mean today?
☁️ A Cloud Took Him
In Acts 1:9, we read that “a cloud received him out of their sight.” Not a thundercloud or a storm, but the cloud of presence—the same cloud that covered Mount Sinai, the same that overshadowed the transfiguration. In the Celtic tradition, the cloud often represents the thin veil between worlds, the nearness of the divine, the mystery we walk within every day.
The Ascension reminds us: Christ is not gone. Christ is everywhere.
Not limited to one place or time, Jesus rises not to leave us but to become intimately present within all things. The early Church understood this as the beginning of Christ’s reign—not absence, but expansion.
Heaven isn’t somewhere far off in the sky. It’s here, now. Hidden in plain sight.
“Lift up your hearts,” the liturgy says.
And we do. Not by escaping this world, but by learning to see it anew.
🕊 Ascending Is Letting Go
The Ascension is also an act of surrender. Jesus entrusts the mission to those who remain—people like us. Frightened, flawed, unsure. And yet beloved.
To ascend is to release.
To trust the unfolding.
To let go of what has been in order to receive what’s becoming.
We are not meant to cling to what was, even when it shone with glory. The disciples had to release the earthly presence of Jesus to receive the indwelling Spirit.
So must we.
In the language of changework and transformation, Ascension is the shift from outer dependency to inner knowing. It is the moment we stop looking for a saviour to do it all for us, and begin to realise: Christ lives in us. Not as a metaphor—but as a living reality.
🌍 Where Heaven Meets Earth
In the Celtic imagination, there is no great divide between the spiritual and the physical. Christ ascending does not mean Christ leaving. It means Christ is now infused into the fabric of the world. The trees. The silence. The bread on our table. The ache in our chest. The joy we didn’t expect. The neighbour we avoid. The birdsong that stops us in our tracks.
If Jesus has ascended into all things, then there is no part of life untouched by the divine.
Not even the messy bits.
And that changes how we live.
We do not look up to escape—we look up to remember.
We do not live with our heads bowed in fear, but lifted in quiet courage.
We do not wait for heaven to come—we walk as those already within it.
🔥 Relevance for Today
Ascension Day asks us a subtle question:
What are you holding onto that no longer serves the movement of God in your life?
It could be an identity, a role, a wound, a way of seeing yourself, or even an image of God that once gave comfort but now binds.
To ascend is not to fly away.
It is to rise within.
To grow.
To evolve.
To become more fully alive in Christ.
This is what makes Ascension Day so relevant in our fragmented world. In a time when everything feels unstable, Jesus reminds us: I am with you always… even in the lifting, even in the leaving, even in the letting go.
We are not abandoned.
We are expanded.
🌿 An Invitation
So today, on this quiet feast of the sky, what would it mean for you to live as if heaven is already here?
What might you release?
Where might you rise?
What new presence might you welcome within?
There is no need to force an answer. The cloud will carry it in its time.
Until then, simply breathe.
Look to the horizon.
And know that even now… Christ is lifting you.
Have you Heard?
Caim
Coming Soon
Ancient Whispers 
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