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1.08.2021

it was a grand canyon sort of day - spiritually speaking I mean

Some teach that through meditation, chakras, enlightenment or spiritual practices there is a space you can get to outside of yourself.  A space where one is not aware of self thinking thoughts and are emptied to be surrounded only by light, pure love. It's there in that space we are fully the spiritual beings we are intended to be.

I'm not hung up on the name, the practices, or even some of the lingo, but I do believe that truth. I am my own worst enemy to that presence. My constant thinking and thoughts prohibit my complete absorption of the spiritual presence in and around me. There have been a handful of times in my life where I have experienced that heightened space of spiritual presence outside of myself - beautiful and healing, partly organic and spontaneous and usually the result of deep hunger for more. I always feel God's presence daily. This is a space beyond that.

We used to walk to the top of Yavapai Hills in Prescott, Arizona when we lived there. At the peak, a mile above sea level, was a treasure of unadulterated, wild, boundless wind. It was a different wind than what you could feel below. My heart would soar at the boundary-less freedom that could not even remotely inhibit the bigness of that wild wind. It felt like it might consume you and set you free at the same time. Its wildness spoke to the bigness of what we cannot see. 

It's tough to empty me of me. Maybe it is for all us who are human. Seems virtually impossible, mostly. Though I've come to realize impossible is its secret gate entrance. I cannot orchestrate, juxtapose, or even necessarily follow a script to get there. Maybe that would dim its grandeur if I could.

Less of anything, me included, opens the window and gives room to simply experience the bigness of God. In my fettered life and mind if I can free myself of less of me, less of the world's pulls, scrap off the sadness we ingest from the culture, I can more easily find that entrance to God. He is the named and sometimes unnamed presence in and all around us. I am an intricate snowflake in His wonder.

Two days ago, driven by sorrow of this country, I found myself absorbing the chaos. [How can God love us? Why does He love us based on our displays of yuckiness? His love must be bigger and deeper than I can even grasp. What am I missing in that deepness? Despite our downward spiral behavior and ungratefulness He created us and loves us.] 

I stopped . . .    It seemed inconceivable and unbelievable based on where we were. My thoughts began to place my own humanity against His Deity. I began to shrink, and disappear. Not in an insignificant, worth nothing sort of way. Instead, in a bigness of God's love for the world He created then down to the intimacy of just me. I was unaware of me and over aware of His presence in and around me. The message so powerful and unrestrained, like the wind atop Yavapai Hills. 

I stayed there suspended longer than the handful of previous times I had stumbled my way to the secret entrance. Time was not time in the fully divine light and love that cascaded over and through me. The know of the God of the Universe was palpable and I was only aware of one thing - God's immense love for me. It was so intense that I didn't want it to end. It's intensity and realization of love and light drove me deeper in the know of my unworthiness to be loved was somehow removing Nancy and allowing God's apparent outpouring at that moment.

My unworthiness was not shame, or wanting to hide. It was astonishment of the total envelopment of that kind of love and light around and in me. I was not worthy and yet, I was connecting to the One who made me. I felt emptied of me in the intense presence of God's love. I was outside myself feeling only God.

Some say there is a place they have visited so great they would visit it again and again just to experience the grandeur repeatedly - Belize, the Grand Canyon .  .  .   I wish I could have barred the exit doors on that space I had been in. I did not want it to end. God's intense love, which lies in the middle of me, for whatever reason was spatially brought to where I could experience it like the wild wind atop Yavapai Hills that day. It made me love Him more and me less. 





 


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