Tag Archives: christianity



It’s an interesting journey, the journey of self discovery. As I move along, Source brings new things into my experience that cause me to shine a light upon myself in places I haven’t yet looked. Once there, I’m able to see my soul’s growth. More importantly, I’m able to see the extent that my mind has been reshaped. Am I a servant to the mind. Or is my mind a servant to my soul. These moments happen in stillness.

There was a point when my internal being was a place of chaos. Like a storm that descends upon the ocean and whips the water into a wild mix of waves, my inner being was anything but calm. Now, those waves are few and far between. More often than not my soul sits still upon the surface of my human frame and the mind that controls it.

I’ve given good thought lately to life, love, religion, human interaction and what it truly means to be one with God. This stillness within me is my church. And I take my church with me wherever I go. There are times when this truth causes me to weep with appreciation. Never are these calm, divine waters of stillness held apart from me. But there are times when it feels life, or my reaction to it, causes a separation. Instead of floating on still waters I find myself, seemingly, miles away from the very waters I hold so dear. Then I panic.

I scramble, I grow sad, I grow weary and exhausted and have nothing left to give anyone around me. It is always from upon divine waters that I write to you, dear reader. But life isn’t about seclusion to the point where we never experience adversity. Life is about keeping our inner water calm while the storms of life rage around us. Its about keeping the portal to Source clear and unobstructed. And taking that connection out and into the world.

To me stillness is God – in full. It is there that I can hear with the most clarity and see most clearly. When there I fortify. From there I can, once again, go anywhere. And I can do so carrying the stillness with me because it is active and alive within me. I can witness mankind and see it through the eyes of love. The eyes of my soul. The eyes of Source – God.

I encourage you to go and sit upon the waters of your inner being, dear reader. Don’t grow frightened if you find yourself caught in waves that push you around. Tend to the waves. Give them your love. Love heals. Love calms. In time, what was once a raging storm of waves fueled by hurt and fear will become waters of wisdom and grace.

Go there. Look at yourself with compassion. Tend to your waves. Within stillness we feel the peace of love. The love of God and Source and All That Is; love that was there all along. To feel it, we just have to get still. Storms of life come and go. But your stillness will remain.


The Choice is Ours


I don’t believe we ever compartmentalize our emotions or life experiences. I understand why so many make this attempt, believing in a successful outcome. But each and every life experience, and the subsequent emotions that live within that moment, become a part of who we are – like it or not. So I say, sit with the experience. Work through the emotion. Allow it time to heal, then release it. Even then, those emotions do not dissipate as the words might lead us to believe.

Emotions are energy. Energy never disappears, nor remains stagnant; regardless of how strong our compartmentalizing abilities may be. Instead, over time they permeate every cell in our body. Even when we believe they are completely stuffed away and hidden from view, their impact on us is life changing. They reshape our view of each and every thing that comes before us. And yes, those who are perceptive enough see the very thing we hope is kept from view.

But when we allow the emotion its due, when we refrain from reacting, and instead sit with the emotion, processing it, learning from it, allowing it air – it heals. Then what is left is something that adds to our being instead of takes. The emotion, that when compartmentalized skewed our view, now becomes an emotion that deepens our take of the world.

I must warn you, the mind does not like to sit with an emotion other than those that are pleasant and bright. Our logical mind will approve to us having surgery to heal physical damage. Doing so is logical, it says. It makes sense. Your emotional being requires the same. Painful, negative emotions metastasize if not treated, much in the same way as a cancer cell does within the physical body. We would never dream of ignoring a cancer cell; concluding we’ll be just fine. Yet, we do, when it comes to our emotions.

As you move through your life, take the time to tend to your emotional health. Close your eyes, then look within. How many boxes of unfinished business do you have blocking your way. Hurts from others. Hurts from your youth. Events that ended in failure.

These boxes carry a two-fold problem: they block those that love you from getting in, and they block you from every getting out.

You may ask then, how these events could possibly add to your experience. That’s easy. Within every experience carries the potential to expand your soul; to broaden and deepen or restrict and constrict. It’s up to you. It’s always been up to you. I know many people who have been through the worst of the worst. Moments in time that altered everything; moments so crushing it could have shut them down completely, causing them to live a constricted life of fear and resentment and hurt. Instead, they chose to allow it to expand their compassion and deepen their understanding. They sat with this complex, evolving, evolving emotion, sometimes for years, and learned, and saw, and grew.

I’ve had quite a few hurts and events that have brought me to my knees. But after a time of recovery, I expanded and opened – letting the energy flow. Those moments have strengthened me, and softened me; strengthened my faith, softened my compassion for others. That choice was mine. We’ve got one shot at this life. Dig in, live it. The choice is yours.


For those who are curious, this blog was written while listening to: Into the Mystic by Van Morrison, Drift Away by Dobie Gray, Home by Phillip Phillips, Dirty Paws by Of Monsters and Men and Seasons by Future Islands.

But Why?


I can remember with vivid color, the confounded look that swept across my mother’s face after having asked her what I (a nine-year old, with a very inquisitive mind), felt was a rather straight forward question.

Standing in the kitchen, my small feet planted on the brightly colored, orange and yellow carpeting that gave our kitchen an unmistakable seventies flare, I stared at my mother while voicing my question, “If ya’ only get to heaven through Jesus…then what about all the people who never heard of him? What about all the Indians?” To which, after a lengthy pause, she replied, “I don’t know. God just knows, that’s all.”

My mother was constantly hit with similar questions. In fact I had a Hefty bag full of questions resting on my mind. Periodically, while driving to the store, or moments before my mother would attempt to bring closure to another long day, I would launch a question in her direction. She was, after all, the person to whom I went for all guidance in this regard. She read the bible and believed in it, and while young, we were raised to believe in it too. However, I questioned everything that failed to make fundamental sense to me – and still do. On the flip side: I had no problem with the things in the bible that did make sense. So, like a rookie reporter from a small town newspaper, I would seek out my mother, wherever she was hiding, and expect a thorough explanation for all that baffled me. I needed her to patch the holes I felt were peppered throughout the bible. My mother, it seemed at the time, was content stepping over the holes.

“Why does the minister say it isn’t right to work or labor on Sunday, that it’s a day of worship and rest…then he goes out for lunch after church? The waitress and cook are forced to labor as a result of him wanting to go out for lunch?” I said eyeballing my mother carefully. On a separate occasion I asked, “Why is there a King James version of the bible? What happened to the other versions? Why did this King James guy need his own version?” I immediately zeroed in on the very real possibility that valuable information may have been, inadvertently or perhaps quite intentionally, left out of this valuable manuscript as it morphed from version to version.

“If it’s a sin to murder someone Mom, then did all the soldiers in Vietnam commit sin when they had to shoot the enemy?” I questioned, while looking at my Mom as she tried to enjoy her lunch. This question bothered me considerably. I needed an explanation, and she tried to offer one. “The soldiers were doing their duty. They were following orders,” she said. Later I asked, “Well, what if a person breaks into your home to steal food for their starving child…that’s a sin right? But it seems to me like God would understand why the person did what they did and it would be okay?” She reassuringly offered, “God understands Honey.” I nodded, pleased for the moment with the thought that there was a good deal of grey area involved with these so-called sins. “Mom – how do we know the commandments are what God really said…?”

So far, my children do not pepper me with these types of questions. And years ago I abandoned those particular questions altogether. Instead, I believe only those things that rest comfortably on my soul. When I want to commune with God I pray regardless of where I am. And when I question the existence of God or that which is bigger than myself, I merely look into my children’s eyes, let my own eyes scan across the natural vista that sits outside my window, or pay attention to the way my heart hurts when I see someone being treated poorly. I see and feel God in these things. And upon doing so, my questions, for the most part – are answered. To this day I still see the great divide between those that profess adherence to certain religions yet fail to let their actions mirror that which they say they believe. Nothing seems more blasphemous either. I don’t care what one believes, but at least live it with respect and strength of mind and character. With that said, my ways most likely wouldn’t feel right to someone else, and that is perfectly fine. Our journey is ours alone to map out, walk, and discover. But looking back, I can’t help but to smile. My mother tried in earnest to answer questions for which she had no answer. But she took the time to listen. God’s love rested within her patience.