Dwell in the source

December has felt a little mooney, a bit blah.

In fact, I can't quite believe we're this close to Christmas.

Circumstances in my life have shifted considerably and I'm already feeling the 'after Christmas blues'.  Maybe, because November, in many ways was very special. In other ways it was very rough, but within that difficulty I could really hear God. And I'm not hearing Him as well this month.

Last night, a friend and I were talking and she said that she prays and she does her readings but one thing she just can't get is the meditation part.  Meaning, her mind continues to wander whenever she attempts. I almost had to laugh, because she said it as though, she were one of the only ones with this problem.  I told her that I was fairly certain most people had this problem. I'm reading Letters of the Scattered Brotherhood right now and it's a treasure of a book. It speaks quite a bit on going into the silence, hushing the outer man.  If the Desert Fathers recognized the difficulty in meditating, certainly, we in our busy lives will find it near impossible.  But I think that the more we practice, the more we discipline ourselves, we will find that God is waiting to meet with us in the silence.

This section really spoke to me.  This is something I am certainly in need of practicing:

"May I say here that the mind cannot remember easily when it is full of criticism; you cannot afford to take umbrage, to have prejudices, nor hold to yourself these violent human emotions which flare up in human contacts.  Let them go and dwell in the source of all love, infinite love"

The only way I have managed at all during this time is to pray for those I resent.  To try to stay above the human drama and enter instead into the drama of Christ's love for me.  The drama of His birth, His death, and  enter, too, into my own dying to self for Him.

".....Prepare yourselves to be sons of God, rise to your full height and live most of your life in spirit while in the material world....The discipline of the body and the spirit is an exercise as old as time.  The conflict of body and spirit, joy and sorrow, has been an accompanying mystery;"


I am practicing this picture of my inner man rising above. Staying above with the peace that surpasses all understanding.  I heard a suggestion recently to breathe in with the thought, 'I am' and out with the thought, 'Peace'.

"I will give you a talisman to use in times of pressure, of drabness, of temptation.  Say, 'There is no measured time at this place, no future, neither is there a past.  I am in the eternal moment, the limitless, infinite, now.'"


Furthermore, I am in today.  Today only.  Only God know what tomorrow holds, so here and now, I am able to trust.



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Comfort

"For You, Lord, have helped me and comforted me." Psalm 86:17

The air is chilling early and I'm not ready to say goodbye to summer.

 Home at long last and I feel betrayed by the sudden turn of weather.  The warmth has comforted me for so many days and how I wished for it when I was away.

 But seasons change in atmosphere and life and I cannot live nostalgic always for last week.

So, remembering that He was faithful to bring me back,  I find comfort in a cozy sweater, hot coffee, immersion in a steaming bath.  I allow God to bring to mind that His mercies are new every morning, His peace is for each day, His warmth available every moment.  In the crazy, cold times of life, wind howling with my soul, I recall that He gave me a sound mind.  That it is His unfailing love which cheers, that He comforts those who mourn, that grieving is painful but God's presence alleviates.  Yes, the flood of verses, memorized, He presents me in time of need and chill.  And always there is relief in grace.

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His Beloved

In God's heart I am His scandalously chased lover.  I am His beloved.  I am seen and loved for all I am and all I will be.  God's heart knows my heart.  He says, "I love your heart.  Your spirit is sweet".  He says this because like a lover, He sees what I can not.  Where I see hardness and weeds, He sees flowers signifying hope amongst the rubble.

Somewhere along the way, my own heart has been crushed and jaded and so I've hid it. From so many.  I've erected walls to protect it.  I've shunned much to ward off any possibility of pain.  I've adopted tearlessness.  I've shut down.  I cringe at sappy movies and romanticism.


But in God's heart, I am His beloved.  And He longs for me.  The romance between bride and bridegroom.  He suspires to sweep me off my feet.

I am a harlot and He knows.  He knows all.  But still.  He loves me all the same.  

"Why am I afraid to dance, I who love music, and rhythm and grace and song and laughter?  Why am I afraid to live, I who love life and the beauty of flesh and the living colors of the earth and sky and sea?  Why am I afraid to love, I who love love?" -Eugene O'Neill, "The Great God Brown"

He remembers me when I was young.  He saw me dance and sing and love.  He sees me in the future and knows I will dance and sing and love again.  Today, He asks, "Beloved, dance for Me, sing with Me, you who love love, you who love Me."

And I do.  Because I am beginning to see who I am in God's heart.

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When the Hard Thing is the Right Thing

I did the hard thing.  That thing I'd rather clean than do.  And it wasn't that hard.  What was hard was the outcome.  Because hearts were hardened, though I tried to leave mine soft.

Why so often, is the hard thing, the right thing?

Why do our words, even when spoken in love, seem sometimes to not be really heard?

More than I hate conflict, I hate having my words misconstrued.  I tend to want to hash it out.  Continue a conversation once started until it's resolved.

Confession:  I really just want the last word.  I want to defend myself.  I forget that this is not my job.  I forget that God asks me to 'speak the truth in love' and then give it over.  The results are His.  It's not about me.