Let’s stop bashing each other about our religions and spirituality. Most of us have them because they define us in an invisible way. Yes, each of us believe some things that sound crazy to other people. I say that with respect, even though at times I admit that I can’t help but laugh at some of the things we believe. I dislike religions that inspire prejudice or marginalize women from being leaders. I understand that many people find comfort in religions that seem to go against my previous comment. Most of all, I love belief that demands the golden rule and reciprocity in all things. Spirituality is personal. Most of us set aside the particulars that we don’t agree with. And in the end, that’s all that should matter. A belief that pushes us towards being a better person and a better human to those around us. Though most people disagree with me, the particular creator we hold in our heart is secondary. Because if we are mistreating ourselves and other people, we’ve already violated the main principle that I think our maker would want us to follow. And if we don’t believe in a creator, I can’t imagine any one objecting to the ideal of acting as if we’re here with purpose. We can argue and bicker like all of our ancestors have done. The bickering is a distraction. Loving people act with love. We might grit our teeth at others in the process. The goal remains the same. Love, X +
Of all the messages out there in the world, the luminous one is that if we could permit each other be as ridiculously inconsistent and weird as we need to be, we all might benefit. I’m not fooled. I’ve seen behind enough curtains to know that most people have some outrageous behavior and ideas. Most keep them tightly closeted. The Golden Rule applies to letting people be themselves if that’s the way they choose to be. We tend to ridicule or shout them down, even with our silence. And then, POOF! We all reach the point when the realization that time is indeed limited swoops down and makes just about everything seem utterly stupid.
The building soon will be repurposed as a real estate school.
The people who called it their church home had open hearts to me. Especially the pastor. He thought nothing of the fact that my heart was skeptical and doubtful. Humor was our language. It is difficult indeed to find a pastor who can relate to people as different and fascinating versions of the same imperfect template.
I didn’t attend the last service this morning, for reasons of my own.
The building will remain idle and empty only for a short interval.
The church members will carry on as friends. They plan on continuing as a virtual body.
I was lucky that I was welcomed there.
Everyone was, no matter their hue, hyphenation, language, denomination, or orientation.
That’s rare too. It reflects the attitude and character of Jim. He’s not doing well. But if there is anyone who walks the line between spiritual and the mundane, it is him. He’s one of those people who deserves another 50 years. Heaven can wait for him. He doesn’t care that my idea of the afterlife deviates from his; he carries his certainty openly and with a ridiculous laugh to accompany it.
Goodbye, church.
All things must end.
And if we are lucky, we won’t forget the spaces or moments shared.
I made this picture for my cousin. She reminded me of the beauty of a faith that guides you to be the best version of yourself, even as you stumble. Religion’s main thesis should be simple in application. I am a doubter myself – but know that all of this is much more complicated than most people’s opinion of it. .
I haven’t finished the melody, but I wrote this song, something I haven’t done in a long time. When I finished, I realized that it could be both spiritual plea or a personal promise. For those whose lives are filled with God, let that be your premise. For those who love, may this be your optimism and purposeful promise of anticipation of another day. And for those souls who have both? Stand together and watch the sunrise, if you can.
Or the sunset. And be renewed. – X . .
hallelujah hallelujah
I shall never know if you’re listening only that I’m whispering the words
That my life not be made easier only fuller and always in anticipation
I don’t want to know the obstacles nor the slap of who will precede me
only that I’ll have one more variable day before the shadows grow feet and approach me
I make this unrequested promise to you let me arise and see the sunrise, anew
just one more time, one more snapshot another measure of loving enduring optimism
and if you do, I vow to sing
hallelujah, hallelujah
not for me, but for you
hallelujah, hallelujah
I shall never know if you’re listening only that I’m whispering the words
hallelujah, hallelujah .
Love, X .
P.S. The picture is two superimposed pictures of a man celebrating both sunrise and sunset. Because the sun never sets upon the Earth, only upon our eyes. So much of us is limited to our narrow perspective, and we grow to trust only the things we can touch – instead of the things we can feel and experience.
For anyone who wants to read an intimate and personal explanation about their experience with God and the divine, this is for you. A friend shared it with me. It touched me beyond words. * *
Recently you posted about how you seemed to wish you were certain of God’s love for you.
I feel the need to share a painful personal story with you.
Let me preface it by saying that faith is a gift I was given as a young child. I don’t know why or how; I only know that I have always had faith. Not just faith in God, but also faith in other people. It is hard to describe the certainty.
Fast forward to my early 30’s. My daughter was 2 years old. She reached childhood milestones early and was speaking, singing, and whistling. In 1996, she had her first seizure, and it was as if the computer in her brain was wiped clean. Rebooted, blank slate. All forward progress was gone. We started over with teaching her to speak and do the things other children did. Each and every seizure took some progress. It was awful. The seizures were poorly controlled, and we were desperate for answers. Which led me to the public library for information. I found several books covering seizures. The one that provided the most information was by John Hopkins University. From that book, I figured out that based upon her seizures, she had one of two conditions. I read that book midday, and it upset me. That was the day before Easter. I went to work that evening, but I was unable to concentrate to transcribe because I was too upset. So I left early. I cried all of the way home and had a VERY angry one-sided conversation with GOD. When I arrived home, I dried my tears because I still had Easter Baskets to make. I made the baskets and went to bed. That night I had the most amazing dream.
It was raining, and we were walking into an unfamiliar building. As we approached the building, the clouds parted, and a face poked through the clouds and said, “You will be ok. It will be difficult, but you will be ok.” Then the face disappeared. That is all that I have ever remembered of the dream. I awoke with the most complete sense of peace. A few weeks later, we took my daughter for an appointment at ACH in Little Rock. We pulled up and discovered the building from my dream. I burst into tears. We were at the right place for her treatment. I also knew that everything would be ok. It has been. She was placed on the correct treatment during that visit, and her seizures became better controlled.
It may sound like sentimental blabber, but I am certain that it is real. I am also certain of GOD’s love because he made certain I had what I needed when I needed it most.
Throughout my life, when times became difficult, there has always been someone new to bring a positive perspective and to show me the way through the pain.
I don’t expect you to grab onto this and suddenly feel GOD’s presence in your life. It is there; you identify it every day in the stories you write. So many of your stories include some form of Divine grace. Open yourself to the possibility that you are worthy of his love because, my friend, you are worthy.
Sometimes we need to forgive ourselves before we allow the best stuff to enrich our lives. * *
Love, X
P.S. Imagine someone sharing this kind of story with you? This is the stuff of a life well-lived and appreciated.
P.S. Parenthetically Speaking 