I believe in love.
I believe in God, who actually IS love.
Please don't cringe.
I will not thump you with anything or throw preachy barbs in your direction.
I will not talk in any way that is unfamiliar or odd.
Here's some of what I don't believe.
I do not believe in a celestial Santa who metaphorically sits me on his knee and listens as I rhyme off everything I want or think I need.
I don't believe in a Grand Receiver who has no mouth, no words, only ears to hear as I ask and ask and ask.
Nor do I believe in a puppeteer, who pulls my strings for his own amusement.
I certainly don't believe in a mean, punishing deity who finds satisfaction in smashing me with heavy hand.
That's not love.
That's not what he's like.
I don't believe that God is aloof or haughty, 'up there' removed, unfeeling.
I believe his feelings for me (and you) are so deep that there is no adequate measure to describe. He is not all ears, or all heavy hand but all heart. All heart.
Big, beautiful heart so full, if I could only understand it would be my undoing.
I hear him when children say profound things.
I hear him in beautiful songs and in distressing sounds.
I see him sitting on a park bench, half clothed, matted head hung down.
Calling out, stirring up compassion within me.
I call God 'he', but I'm not sure if gender tags are even appropriate when describing this beautiful being.
There is no room in my mind or heart for a God who 'watches us from afar'.
No, I have no room for such a notion.
He is not far.
In fact is very close and as present as the unseen molecules whirling around me and the invisible air I'm breathing. He inhabits atmosphere, he's at home in cloud filled expanse of sky.
He's at home with me and knowing me still has only love in his heart.
I could not believe if I thought that belief in God meant checking my brain at the door, forsaking questions, wearing blinders or becoming hermetically sealed off from 'dirty' society.
It means none of those things. There is no judgmental finger wagging. There are no laws except for love. It is the only one.
You know, I feel for us all as we grapple with genuine spirituality, which is our very own life's breath.
Not the spirituality of self help, of paid for predictions or of exotic cultural magic.
Not the spirituality of incense and ommmm, of secrets, of levels.
Not the spirituality of setting intentions, of aligning chakras.
Not the spirituality of flirting with darkness and engaging powers which ought not to be engaged.
I mean the spirit of truth and life.
The one we are all gasping for in all of our selfish and reckless pursuits.
and we breathe so shallow, and we have spiritual apnea.
Some of us have stopped breathing all together.
We cannot live if we stop breathing.
I can't live.
I believe this is true.
If I didn't, I wouldn't say it.
Totally Pulling Them Off - Dave and I have been watching How I Met Your Mother on Netflix... So the title of this post and photo of Cali would only make sense if you watch the show.....
1 year ago