Tag Archives: healing

The sum of His divine design.

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We all are made to love.  

Part of our divine design. As created by our higher power.  God is the very source of love and we are called to reflect and direct that love to others. Our role in the loop of grace. 

Yet during the course of life’s travails, disappointments and distrust, we may begin to engage in the process of actively obscuring that attribute.  Cordoning off that integral and essential aspect of our being.  Seeking ephemeral pursuits.  Avoiding our true nature.  Evading our responsibility.  And in so doing, creating a false sense of security, safety and wellbeing.  

Despite the fact that we are hardwired for it, and it is destined to be our primary purpose, it hurts to love.  

To give it without condition, guarantee or quid pro quo.  To expose oneself to a seemingly fatal level of self-inflicted pain.  

Sad to say, we tend to give up too early. I do.  Choosing to succumb to a skinned knee, while another within our immediate universe might  be in the throes of a hopeless, lingering, lonely spiral downward.  Choosing process, research and expediency over interaction, intuition and patience.  Focusing on our flaws rather than our inherent capacity to help those about us grow.  Choosing ourselves and our needs first. And others?  When it makes sense for us.  

Dispensing, gifting and asserting love are all arduous tasks. The heaviest lifting imaginable   Missions that can generate more than their fair share of discomfort, disappointment and despair.  

But somewhere along the way, we convince ourselves to capitulate to that illusion.  That we will not survive the giving.  That it will never be received as we intend.  Or more to the point – how we expect it to be taken. Or that we need to be present to witness an ultimate outcome.  

Forgoing  our purpose, ignoring our  design and ignoring our Creator.  Lacerating the loop of grace. 

Fortunately, there are those within our midst that refuse to be deterred.  Fervently remaining on point. Absorbing the pain.  Depleting themselves.  Giving it up.  

Sturdy souls, with an unyielding faith, who have leaned into this mission.  Recognized that their true purpose lay within.  That the  pain is temporary.  Reserves will  be refilled.  That giving it up is who they are meant to be and what we are all intended to do.  

After all, that is how we were  made.  

The sum of His divine design.  

And therein lay the healing.

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This morning’s gospel John 5:1-16, was broken down into an amazing insight.  At least for this guy.  You can always read the words but unless deeper perspectives from others are offered and shared in a meaningful way, you may find yourself living in quite the linear manner. 

The intention within this biblical discourse is apparent.  But when other ways of looking at this particular interaction at a healing pool in Bethesda are provided, the connection takes on a whole new mass.  It truly reflects what the name literally means, “house of mercy, or grace.” 

“Do you want to be well?”

The sick man answered him, “Sir, I have no one to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up; while I am on my way, someone else gets down there before me.”

Father pointed out that the man, invalided for thirty-eight some years, did not answer His question.  Instead, he went on to describe his life, wrought of isolation, abandonment and hopelessness.  Not just that I have no one to help me into the pool, but pure and simple, “I have no one”.  

Father suggested that perhaps when he was younger, family may have helped him move about to partake in some of these healing moments in the water.  But now, approaching the middle of his life, he is essentially by himself. 

Alone.  

“While I am on my way, someone else gets down there before me”, emphasizing the utter disregard of others and his worthlessness to society. 

Imagine that.

Not just crippled for life, immovable and unable. But deemed unneeded, untouchable and unloved.  Being so crippled by that horrific experience that he didn’t even hear the question posed.

And it wasn’t asked a second time either.  He just healed him and sent him on his way.  Too bad some of that healing didn’t waft its way over to the clerics admonishing him for having the audacity to carry his mat, for the first time in his life, on the sabbath. 

Crippled may carry with it the connotation of strictly physical limitations.  But it may come to impart its will on one’s mental or emotional state.  Perhaps even spiritually.  It can be an all inclusive state.

So while He mended his body, He truly mended the man’s spirit.  Giving him life in more ways than one. We are all asked to do the same.  To be there for others.

One way alms were described to me was to simply give of yourself.  Your time.  Your empathy and compassion.  And therein lay the healing. support.  Your love.  Your presence. All forms of personal wealth we can access and share abundantly without ever breaking the bank.

So when you find yourself in a house of grace, do your part to offer alms of healing as best as you can.

You will never be expected to say ““Stand up, take your mat and walk.”

That is what He does. 

But you can definitely listen with true compassion, offer them support and love, and help them to rise from defeat and isolation.  

Simply be present for them, in that house of mercy.

For He would want you to.  

And therein lay the healing.

And then, locked.

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As I move forward in self reclamation, I find that past experiences and the words used to describe them have now, somehow become much more lucid. Nothing really made that much sense for the longest time. It just sort of was. Now, the only explanation I can relate to you is that it was found in the divine.

Initially, there was this strong, outward focused sense of resentment I not only harbored but protected for some reason, for a very long time. Perhaps strategic safeguarding was purposeful; a response to avoid personal responsibility and genuine self honesty. Then, the ego can remain untouched, intact and exonerated. Upon further reflection, this very well may be the impact of living with a rectal cranial inversion my whole life.

True, I resented others, situations and individuals, for what they allegedly did to me. Upon deeper and more genuine discernment, that just wasn’t the case. You see, the true culprit was not others, but me. I somehow came to embrace self-resentment. As if I was watching this guy – Mark – from the audience. Recognized him by his appearance, but didn’t know who I was, understand what I was able do, recognize how I was able to be or value anything I brought to the table.

To accomplish the tasks of self-resentment, I took my misconceptions, perceptions and aggressions into arenas that confirmed my illusions. Personally and professionally. Having others determine me because I was essentially clueless in that department. Not their doing. Mine. Driven by some apparition of what I was to myself.

Not quite sure how that all began or why, but it did left uncontrolled, running rough shod over me and my life until just about now. The path to understanding resentment initially led me to better understand my self-resentment. Then, I sensed the presence of a caring voice from within.

It directed me to self-awareness, self-perception and self-esteem. Things I had heard of, but never really invested the time to fully understand and embrace. Because I was ticked off about not being valued. Because I sought that from others. Because I didn’t like myself for not being valuable. Because I was consumed by total self-ignorance.

Another whisper from that same voice emerged. It told me I was valued, worthy, needed and loved. Not just once. But over and over. Listening led not only to better understanding, but actually recognizing those truths. Finally, by beginning to embrace all that was shared with me, resentment has now been shown the door. The “self” version was also included in that request. Though they may be taking their sweet time, the door will soon be closed.

And then, locked.