Traversing Between; Part 7

Yesterday afternoon I watched a wind sculpture whipping around until I thought it would take flight. This morning it is perfectly still. It mimics me.

Only a week ago, I was busily tending to more details of moving. Today, I am sinking into the healing folds of God’s arms, this land, regaining spiritual strength as I pray.

Separate and other than, God, You wounded my spirit in the long, excruciating wait. You spoke and I responded with all that I had, but You withdrew from me in silence.

If a person had taunted my soul in like manner, most would have called it abuse. How is it that You are all loving and can wound at such depths?

I knew from our past that You would let my wound remain moist through the slow stages of healing, until I no longer questioned the separateness, only trusted.

I remember when You asked for my heart; and cannot forget saying, “I do”. We are joined and yet You become other than, when my Truest Self challenges my choices.

Being wed to is far different than being united in a formal ceremony. And wearing a trousseau that gives the impression of is quite the opposite of disrobing in faith.

“I am not God, but I am not other than, either.” James Finley’s words continue to linger in my mind and heart. Haunting words, really.

I can no longer hold You out there as completely separate from myself, for even now, we commune here together in moments of oneness. You show me that like Jesus, I, too, am human and divine with the capacity to redeem and save. The thought of it is daunting.

I did not want to believe it because other than was easier. I wanted to keep you at a reverent, respectable distance. Perhaps I did not want to go through the hard work of transformation. And then you opened my eyes to the violence of others who had chosen the easier way and You gave me the choice of a mirror and a pick to dig out the splinters in my own eye or a pair of blinders, so that I could ignore.

In transmuting, I found my home, within. Now, I am able to receive this desert land that I love as a gift, rather than imposing on her the awful burden of being my home.

I am not You, but I am not completely separate from You either.

You reside within me. Here inside, there is no one but myself to reject, judge or condemn me. And then there’s You, the Other whispering, “Choose life and love. Enjoy your new home.”

Sacred Ruminations*