I find it rather challenging. This task. This task of pouring out gold like there's no end. This struggle to locate every word hidden beneath the unending strain of humanness. There are words that do not fulfill the needs of the heart. The soul finds they lack and are not strengthened as they would be had it spoken them itself. Where are the words?
Today was Easter. Tomorrow is Monday. Here we are caught in the midst. And where are we? Caught between where we've been and where we are going. Caught between home and home.... The place we come from, the land of honey and sunshine, with a river that runs through it. Trees, and the Gardener. There is a grand city there. They say the streets were paved with gold...but oh, gold is wisdom, and the streets in color appear as an opal glass. The angles stand proud and tall. Taller than our weaknesses. And they stand with a spear. Not to fight, not for war, but as a symbol of triumph. The arrow pointing to the sky above.
The place we come from....this is only a very small piece that lacks in many ways due to our inability to perceive it all. There's so much more. And the place we are going to...home. Where in the day we are graced with the gardener's smile. And it is always day. This never-ending dance of the stars. Never in the dark.
Yet here we are. The in-between, where we get to love madly, and stumble, and fall, and love deepy. And glimpses of home, and glimpses of seeing that we chose to be caught in the tides of presence. And we forget where we came from, and we forget where we are going....and we fear we are lost in this darkness. But the darkness is not without its stars.
Hands dip into the ocean and waves crash between the fingers, pouring out like waterfalls. Pouring pouring. Trying to take hold of understanding. Trying to take hold of what is much more than our hands can attain. So we dive, crashing into the sea, swallowed up and sinking, yet there's more water than we can drown in.
We flung ourselves off the cliffsides and sank deep into the abyss, we've soared across the galaxies and blazed grand like a sun. We've danced, we've sang, we've cried, and fought, and gave in, and gave up, and still we can not hold all that there is. Still we can not see or hear or feel all that is. Except....except in one name.
If there be anything that contains everything, that is all....that is completion and beginnings and life without time and time without ends, and every aspect of love....the light, the night, the stars, the wind, the flashes of lightning, the thunders, the tears, the embracing and smiles, the fullness....the wholeness of all....if there be anything that is everything we know....and everything we've yet discovered...it will lie upon the face of the Lord.
And you can forget about your religion, and you can forget about your opinions, and your ideas of good or bad, and you can forget about what fear was, or anger, or hate, or confusion....these things can not exist when He looks upon you.....and let me tell you, you may not even remember what those things are.....you will only know that He is all. Every truth, every spark of light, every idea, every vibration, every wavelength, every being....and the source of every image of love.
And He will smile upon you. He will hold out His arms wide, and you will know nothing else but peace. And He will raise you high and there will be nothing else outside of Him. He is all. And He has you too.
Today was Easter...and it doesn't matter which day you write a love letter. And if you can remember.....you can go out and visit the gardener and see the garden. The sun is shining, the honey is pouring out, and the river flows across the land. Trees bloom......
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