This Little Love!

This Little Love!

“When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers,
the moon and the stars, which you have set in place…”
~Psalm 8:3

I went out in the dark of night to get some space away from an exhausting day. Over my house hung a sliver of the moon and a star, side by side. I’m sure it was a planet, but which one, I don’t know. The two of them looked as if they could have been holding hands, gazing into one another’s eyes with deep affection. I smiled at the thought of celestial friendships—how everything hanging in God’s sky is in perfect harmony.

I breathed in the cool of the night, God’s own breath, and I wondered, Why can’t we be in perfect harmony with each other?  I asked myself What do I need to do to love more? I went to bed with the desire to live in more peace and harmony with all of God’s creation.

Cradling Christ.

Cradling Christ.

“This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped
in cloths and lying in a manger.”
~Luke 2:12

Everything in my life was rushing past me so fast that I couldn’t make sense of it. I felt only chaos and confusion. I knew what I had to do—what I often do when I feel like everything is spinning out of control. I went out into my garden and sat down. I took  a few  slow deep breaths and closed my eyes.

I imagined myself out in a field with shepherds. Silence cut through the night, save for the bleating of the sheep. The stars waved above us, lighting the way. We walked for awhile.

We finally arrived at a stable. The barn animals sat quietly as the shepherds and I entered. Inside was a young mother and father, their newborn lying in a manger. Without a word, the young mother picked up her baby and placed Him in my arms. I felt the warmth of His small body. I breathed in His sweet innocence. I felt an incredible love flow through me when I looked into His eyes. He was so precious! I cradled Him, rocking Him in my embrace. When He fell asleep, I kissed His forehead and handed Him back to His mother.

When I opened my eyes, everything that had been rushing so fast had come to a stop. What had felt confusing and chaotic now felt calm and coherent. When I imagine that I am cradling Christ, all of my worries and woes vanish. All that remains is peace. Sweet, sweet, peace.

I Don’t Think I’ll Ever Get Over You

I Don’t Think I’ll Ever Get Over You

I still find pieces of your presence here
Even after all these years.
~Colin Hay

Had I known when I buried you that I’d still miss you twenty-seven years later, I’m not sure I would have survived that April morning when the ground claimed your body as its own. In the quiet of the morning, I listen for the sound of your voice. I search your face in the crowds. I dream of you on nights when the rain lullabies me to sleep. What I’d give to hold you, one more time! But even in the hollow of my grief, I feel the blessing of having loved you. To have missed knowing you would have been the real loss. And so I go on, with the memory of you tucked safely in my pocket. I carry you with me into the soft light of each new day.

And so it goes, life and death. The mystery of it all. The exquisite beauty and pain of it all. I’m just trying to breathe in and out love and to enjoy the journey, hoping and praying that in the end, it leads me back to you.

It’s Not Who, It’s What

It’s Not Who, It’s What

“For God has not given us a spirit of fear and timidity,
but of power, love, and self-discipline.”
~2 Timothy 1:7

I sat in the quiet of the rising sun, out in my garden. I prayed and pondered my life. thinking of all of the many twists and turns it has taken. I thought about who I am now, after healing from so many past wounds.

“You aren’t your story,” God said.

“What? What story?” I asked.

“You are not the events that have taken place in your life,” God answered. “You are not a “who”. You are more than a mom, a coach, a sister, a daughter, a woman who has been abused or hurt. You are more than a person who stopped drinking, who lost everything but found the most amazing riches of all. You aren’t even your name. You aren’t Jennifer.”

“I’m not? Then who am I?”

“Instead of getting lost in the story you tell yourself about you and your life, think about what you are,” He instructed. You are part of my creation. Your true nature is far greater than anything that has, or ever will, happen to you. Drop the stories. Then, drop the storyteller. Let your consciousness expand beyond the boundaries you’ve created. Remember what you are, my child.”

“That may take me some time and effort,” I said. I’m not used to thinking in those terms.

“I’m here to help you,” God said. A songbird lifted her voice to the morning. I turned my face to the heavens and closed my eyes. I did my best to forget who I am and to be what I am. For a moment, I was at peace, no longer bound to my story, no longer attached to my ego. I was fully connected to God.

The Sweetness Of An Apple

The Sweetness Of An Apple

“Do not love the world or the things in the world.”
1John 2:15

Hungry for a snack, I padded into the kitchen and took a beautiful red apple from the refrigerator. I washed it and sliced it into bite-size pieces and placed them in a small bowl. I sat down and ate them, one by one. Each piece was a burst of sweetness—the flesh gave way to little rivers of juice under the crushing of my teeth. I tuned out everything else but the experience of the apple. For a few minutes, I was conscious of God’s amazing creation, aware of what was really important in life—the sweetness of an apple. I was awake.

I returned to work and it didn’t take long until I had pulled the world back over my eyes. I lost the connection to the most important things in life and became hypnotized by the rat race; the hustle and bustle to get ahead, social media, the news. etc. I fell back asleep into a world of make-believe that man has created. Maybe you too, are asleep most of the day. If you are, I hope that you will wake up to God’s great world, if only for a few minutes.

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