Friday, March 16, 2018

Sleep Sweetly Child

You are cared for.  If you experience pain in this life, it will not be yours alone.  You are watched over.  If you have heights or valleys, you will not walk them alone.

Rest your head.  Sleep sweetly.  Dream hopeful dreams.  The burden is not yours to carry.

Rest your body.  It is beautiful inside and out.  Material is born out of spiritual.  You are good.

Rest you mind.  The ground of being has you, you cannot add to or take away from it.

Rest your soul.  Eternity is offered it.  That which is temporary fades.  You are made for endless beauty.

Rest you legs.  You cannot run too far.  You cannot travel to be unreached.  No where you have gone has tarnished who you truly are.

Rest your arms.  Let sweet sleep repair the strained muscles.  Let rest give you new strength.

Rest your eyes.  You are held much more than you could ever take in.  All that you see does not define you.  The reality of it is better.

Rest your heart.  There is a Mender of hearts.  The Mender knows what you have gone through.  The Menders knowing is enough to swallow up your pain.

Rest.  Sleep sweetly.

Finally free

No more bondage.  No more cages.  No more internal fighting.  No more hate.  No more apprehension.  No more weariness.  No more waging internal war.  No more fires to put out.  No more deferred hope.  No more anything that is anti-life.

Hope realized, hope finally fully lived into.  Free, finally free.

Finally Home

No more wondering.  No more tributaries meandering wandering through the wood, meager and meek.  No more complaints.  No more discouragement.  No more, "this, no wait, wait, that!"  No more pain.  No more arguments.  No more mulling over scratch in my head, time after time.  No more separation.  No more segregation.  No more division.  No more fear.  No more anxiety or worry.  No more bitterness.

Finally home.

A place where I can rest my head.  And to be home, finally home.

Schisms Cease

The fragments stir.  The isolated parts start to vibrate.  The pick up on the resonance, if only a little.  Could there be others?  Am I the only one?  A hope, a quite voice inside wonders if I'm not.  But in order to move from my position, I first must melt.  My edges and limbs are to stale and stuck to move me towards what I hope for.  Shall I let go?  Yes.  I quit trying to push out and come in.  My edges and limbs quit trying so hard to hold their ground.  Can I soften?  Yes.  The edges are already of a softer consistency.  Moving in, the core seems less frozen, there is some movement.  Shall I continue?  Yes.  It's scary, but strangely liberating.  Ok, here we go.  I give way a little more.  The edges have now migrated towards the middle, the middle mix with the edges, the core seeps into the others.  The parts of myself that once were divided, once compartmentalized, start to share with each other.  I feel like a being instead of a robot.  Or at least the start of one.  Shall I continue?  Yes.  I give way more, the middle starts to collapse, the edges join force.  What was once hard and sharp has become moldable, responsive to the air and ground.  Now I am a puddle on the ground, but not stationary.  The ground is sloped.  I'm flowing in a direction.  What's that to the left?!  Another liquid blob, flowing too!  We gain speed.  And now ahead and to the sides more moving blobs of different colors and sizes become visible.  We all make our way down the slope, from each side of the center?  What happens when we meet?  And then, it happens.  We join.  We come together.  The colors mix.  What once was small dabs of liquid making our way along joins and continues to join others.  Till be become a tributary.  A river.  And finally, we reach the ocean.  All.  Is.  Well.

A Great Compassion

It speaks to us through the flowers.  The mountain tops echo it beauty.  It sings through the stars in the sky.  It's in-between the most concealed cracks.  To run from it is to run into it.  It calls our hearts. It calls our souls.  It feels our pain.

Nothing is meaningless.  All is up for redemption.  Darkness flowing in can be rays of light flowing out.

We are not alone in our pain.  Our musings are not ours alone.  There is One who shares our burdens. We cannot reach a place where we are alone, no matter the darkest hole we go down.  The One will be waiting for us there.

Preceding a spoken word is a spirit it is born from.  And preceding the spirit it is born from is a great compassion that seeks to speak through everything.

When we have given up on ourselves, we are not given up upon.  When it seems we have chosen darkness, light has still chosen us.  When we are on a plank atop the vast ocean, the ocean is love.  When our experience and what we hope for don't seem to coincide, there is a deeper Reality that eternally understands.  When we want to try for one thing, but do another, love is found in both.

My shortcomings.  My darkness.  My anger.  Are but pebbles looking up at the tidal wave.  They are meant to be swept up, to give way to the great adventure.

Free Gift

A free gift, not requiring anything.  Not having any alternative motivation.  Not seeing any hinderance.  Not having any hangups.  Only seeing potential, yet complete in itself.  Only seeing the beloved, not having hinderance in reaching out its arms.  Not having a "if" "then".  Before.  Beyond.  Encompassing.  Radical.  Acceptance.  For all.  No exception.

Love has never been born, yet is born over and over again, for all of eternity.  Mystery embodied, and yet released in the cosmos and beyond eternity.  So that somehow the flesh, spirit, mystery, the earth, everything works together.  All proclaiming one thing, all singing one song.  A song directed towards One, yet relevant to everything.  

We are deeply loved.  Deeper than the seas, higher than the heights, wider than the universe.  Yet present in our cells, in our atoms, at the ground of being.  We are not alone, we are home.  We need just believe it.  The universe was created in love, it's where it started, it's where it is heading.  And yet , it is present too.  

And when the night seems darkest.  When darkness seem akin to out being, to our understanding, to our reality.  In this, we are held.  We might not know it.  It might not be our experience.  But there is a deeper reality that we haven't quite touched yet.  But what is concealed is meant to be made known.  What we suffer with in secret seeks to find it's expression.  And in the expression, acceptance is.  

We need not hide the parts of ourselves we don't like.  The One is able even to use those to transform us.  We may feel like we are in a ping pong match within our own heads.  This, then that, then this, then that, back to this again, is there a third!  A different option?  Maybe I'm asking the wrong questions!  All this might stir through us.  But grace, already present in us, if allowed, makes the questions a dance, a beautiful movement.  

You are good.  It's how you were created.  It's who you are.  We need to just remember.  Back when we were kids, and we laughed, and that was enough, somehow this still holds true.  The time when at last we were held in a caring embrace, maybe this is who we really are, and yet deeper still.  We need not have us plus something, an existence of continuing addition.  Only, an existence of continued waking up to what is already true.  An existence of waking up to what has been true since the beginning of time, and for all eternity.  A circle dance of love.  Which we are all invited into.  Which we are already a part of.  

The belonging I seek is the belonging I already have.  It is a free gift, given and received, and a call rings, to just trust that it is true.  And the call will meet us where we are at, seeing us as beautiful, seeing us only through eyes of compassion and love.

Give me grace to believe.