Category: Stress

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Walk with Me

Lord, I have 15 minutes. Maybe 20. I have done everything except get quiet. I lay awake too long to begin, quiet. Lord?

You think you can’t hear Me in a “brainstorm.” Worse, you think I can’t hear you. When you cannot quiet your mind, I. Am. Still. Think about that. I Am Still. What if I cannot be still, cannot be still and know, you ask? Then look to Me, the Great I Am, the One Who Still Is, Who Is Always, Who Is Present, Who Is Both Active, and Still. Let My Peace penetrate your unknowing. Just walk with Me. You will find My companionship to be all you need today, to begin. To begin your day more centered, more grounded, more focused. Just walk with Me. Decide on a pace that lets you remember all you do know.

You are being Martha and neglecting Mary. Look up the verse. (I do that.) See what it says? I don’t scold Martha for being busy–which is what you always think. It is not the tMartha was busy, or that she had a lot that had to get done–which is what you say–it is that her attitude needed adjusting. And the best way to adjust attitude is to realign with Me, which is what Mary is doing in the story. It’s not about preferring one sister over the other. It is not even about sibling squabbles. It is about Martha being distracted, worried, and anxious or upset. Does this sound like anyone you know?

Okay, so there has to be a third way, for busy people. The story goes on to say only one thing is important.

Yes, and that is?

Oh, of course! Love! Love You, love others!

And–love yourself. Take care of yourself too–and living in a perpetual state of worry and distraction, even if you try to say it’s all about others, isn’t actually loving anybody. So, walk with Me. Let Me show you every day what your own “good part” is, what that looks like in the context of your work, your home, your family and friends, and the larger world.

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Light So Bright

So, Lord, this has been a roller-coaster couple of weeks, the plunge point being Pete spiking his 4th or 5th fever, I lost count, with two trips to his regular doctor’s office culminating in an ambulance ride to the ER. And he is much, much better now. But. So the hospital ruled out all the seemingly serious stuff, like pneumonia; the doctor’s office swabbed for flu, and that was negative, so it seemed as if he had some sort of virus. Then the hospital called back six days later, and turns out they had sent his urine for a culture, and he had a UTI. Once he started on a new antibiotic, he felt so much better right away, and we have had no more shaking chills, no more high fevers. But. The but is, I was calm during all that, but kind of an inside mess afterwards. I didn’t sleep well, agitated. And now that fatigue has piled up, and I wound up napping today.  I am so relieved this was caught in time, before it became something too serious. But it could have been. And one day, it will be. Just writing that, my heart rate kicks up, I can feel it, and I am breathing more rapidly. I signed up for this–I know that. But it’s hard.

No, you didn’t. Not exactly. No human really ever “signs up” for the loss of someone they love. Remember, Death was–in the ways you experience it–never My idea. I planted a Tree of Life in the Garden, remember? That is why I have transformed Death into a Door, a Door I Myself Am. A Door I Myself walked through in human form so I could transform the Door into a Doorway, A Gateway, into Life.

Remember the vision you had, a couple days ago? Of walking into a Light so bright everything else fades and dims? Hold to that. Hold to that for yourself, and hold to that for everyone you love who has gone–or will go–before you.

You’ve had glimpses of this before, quick visual images. Now I want these glimpses to begin to permeate and resonate in your other senses, too, starting with hearing. You will begin to hear, in your mind’s ear, some of heaven’s music, as you hear My Voice, as you see in your mind’s eye.

In the midst of writing that, I mean, right that second about hearing, I hear my phone ping a message.

Yes, this will be that sudden–and in the beginning that startling. But it is time the Silent Movies end and you begin to integrate sight and sound.

Lord, kitty Barney is all stretched out. So relaxed.

Yes, that is what I want for you, the deep relaxation that comes from deep trust, from knowing all is truly well and you are loved, and cared for.

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Mirroring

God, I feel as if I can talk to You about anything. And increasingly, at any time. So I want to talk to You about my fingers. About this decades-old habit, started when I was, what? You know. Three? Four? Five? This lifelong habit I have of picking my fingers, which drives Pete crazy, and which, for all these years, I have assumed You judged me for. I certainly have judged myself. And in that judgment, I named the habit sin, which I really think, thought, it is. Until I was falling asleep–or between sleep and waking–and You said, I think it was You, something extraordinary. And I want and need to talk to You about it.

You said You didn’t see this habit as sin. Is that true? Was that You, that sudden thought in my head, so contrary to the way I have thought?

Yes, that was Me. What I need you to understand is that all the times you felt prompted by Me to stop, those leadings were not to lead you out of something I was judging you guilty for. I have asked you to stop because of what the habit is doing to you. I see, deeper than you yourself see, the sense of shame and guilt and even despair you carry, over this seemingly simple little habit. You began as a way to handle stress and tension in your house when you were a very young child. You have used it ever since, when you were tired, or stressed, or afraid, or under any kind of accusation. To keep yourself silent, you took to tearing at yourself.

Let Me ask you a question. In fact, let Me ask you several questions.

Would you reach over, take Pete’s hands in yours, and begin systematically to tear at his fingers?

No, of course not!

Would you do this to a close friend?

No.

To an acquaintance, perhaps?

No.

How about a stranger? Would you feel free, would you be motivated, to do that  to a stranger’s hands?

No, Lord. You know not.

Well, how about someone who hurt you? Would you reach out and hurt them back in this way?

NO.

Okay, well, what about an animal, then? Would you do something comparable to an animal?

No, never.

So. Last question. Would you, if you could be with Me in a physical way, would you do this to Me?

No, Lord, of course not!

Look at what you are saying. You are making yourself less than anyone else you would ever know, or meet. Less than the animals, whom you purport to love.

I do love them, You know I do.

Here is what I know: you do not yet fully love yourself. You have not yet fully received the depth, the breadth, the length and the height of My love for you. I have asked you to stop, and told you that stopping will open doors to greater service and ministry, not because this habit is sinful in My eyes, but because it reveals you are not yet fully healed, fully whole. You don’t see yourself as I see you, and you see yourself much less clearly than you see every other living thing on the planet.

Lord, something set me off this past spring. Sometimes I know my triggers but this time I am not sure what did it. I was fine, I was okay all during Pete not feeling well last fall, and holidays with family which are always stressful, and then the decision to move Yellowhouse, everything involved with that, and then suddenly something upset me to the point I started again.

And the shame of starting has fueled you to continue. That is what I want to address, and relieve–your deep sense of shame. Every one of My Children is worthy of love, of My Love. Every one of My Children begins as a precious and innocent being. And as you well know, I will move heaven and earth to show each one the truth of that Love. So what do I have to do, what can I say, to bring you to a place where the mirror you look deeply into is My Eyes of Love for you?

That sounds like a Vision Quest question.

Indeed it is. You have an old, flawed, distorted mirror. I would like to lead you away from that mirror to a place where you can see a clear, honest, pure reflection. You have been afraid to come to that place, seeing it as a place of shame and accusation, which is what you are running from, and what your tearing at your fingers is an expression of. But I Am calling you, asking you, pleading with you, please stop running. Stop running from your own precious self. Stop running from the you I see, the you I love, the you I chose before you were even born. Be willing to live in the light I Am offering you now, and I promise you, the compulsion you have felt for the past five-and-a-half decades will lose its grip and its power on your mind and your heart.

I Am asking you because your pain grieves Me, and I would relieve it. But we must be partners for that to happen. Because this originated in your feelings about yourself, you have to have a part in its resolution. This isn’t a work I can do by Myself; I need you as My Partner in your wholeness.

Okay, Lord. I really do want to be free of it. 

Yes, I know you do. But hear Me well — you need to be free of your distorted view of yourself, in order to be free of the habit you so despise. You think the habit is causing the distorted self-image, but I tell you, the reverse is true. The distorted self-image is manifesting in your habit, not the other way around. So Come. Come to My Pool of Reflection; stand here beside Me, look into My Love and see what I see. You–and your life–will never be the same.

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Making Waves

One of my favorite quotes of Louise Hay is, you can start your day over at any time. God, I sort of feel like that about my week, like I need a do-over. Things are actually going quite well, but I think my attitude has needed a readjustment, and I’m sorry. I think I have, actually, I know I have been letting the stress get the best of me, meaning overtake my best self. I don’t know who else has noticed, but I have noticed. And obviously You have noticed.

I have a shorthand word for do-over also, and it is Grace.

I say that sometimes, God. I said it inside a lot this week, when I was panicked, about the wiring, about the computer hookup, about staging, about placement of fixtures: I move through my day with ease and grace.

So think about what you are really saying. If you are moving through with grace, with My Grace, then what that really means is you are moving forward in My Power. My Power is not only power to do, it is primarily power to be. In your case right now, that means power to be your best self, as you do all that needs doing.

Lord, I’ve gone months, months, without picking my fingers. Right through the ER visit with what turned out to be a mini stroke with Pete. What in the world set me off this week? I really need to know. It’s a stress response I no longer want to have in my psyche. Yet for some reason, it surfaced this week. Why?

This week you were confronted with many expectations and suggestions, so many coming at you at once that you literally could not hear yourself think. And you were so bombarded with having to react in the moment, moment after moment, that you could not figure out how to make time to hear Me either. Isn’t that true?

Lord, it is true. I just want to do everything right, everything correctly. And somehow please all these different people, some of whom want, or seem to want, very different things. I get lost in all of it.

Yes, you do get lost — you lose your focus, you lose your center and that is when you lose your way. In those moments although you may seem outwardly to be in control, you are actually free-falling into a very old fear, so old you can barely remember its origins. At the bottom of that fear is the prohibition against speaking up, speaking out, verbalizing your own thought or feeling or opinion, or asking for what you truly need or want. Your personal primal stress responses are all born out of silence. But as I have told you before, I don’t want you silent. I don’t want you shouting, either. As always there is a third way. You can find safe and sacred spaces to speak. Not to be silent, not to shout, but to speak. To speak up. Up from the well that is inside you, that is full, by the way, of creative, innovative, inspired ideas. On the one hand, you think it is dry, when it is actually full to nearly overflowing. And on the other hand, you are afraid if you pry the lid off this long-capped well, what will emerge will be anger or rage, something that would hurt someone else. You have been long schooled to think your words and thoughts have little value. They are precious to Me. Hear Me: your words, your thoughts, your feelings are Precious in My sight! Not anathema. Not cursed. Not rejected. Precious. Try that thought on for size!

Lord, that thought is huge. It is like a very large coat, several sizes too big.

Not too big. Not too big for your mind and not too big for your heart. But let’s talk a moment about your stress.

Ummm. Do we have to?

No, of course we do not “have to.” But you are the one who brought it up in the first place. Don’t you want to?

I guess. Maybe. Yes. Okay. Yes.

Do you know what stress is like? It is like picking up something too heavy for you to lift and carry, and then staggering under its weight, trying to prove you are strong. I Am not asking you to prove you are strong. I Am not asking you to prove anything. I know you and I love you. All I Am asking you is to walk with Me. Walk with Me and be honest. Tell Me what you cannot lift and carry. It may just be that you are trying to tote a burden that is not yours in the first place.

Not mine?

No. Not if what you are trying to carry is to meet others’ expectations that are either irrelevant, or impossible to truly satisfy, or counter to your true values. One of your core values is abundance. Another is the importance of connecting, if only for a brief few minutes. Another is that everyone ought to have a chance to shine. Another is that you recharge by drinking in air and light, clouds and water, wide, broad land and high tall land, and eye contact with all critters. The world did not always understand Me. It will not always understand you. You can seek to be understood or you can accept that you will sometimes–and sometimes more than other times–be misunderstood, and that is actually okay, because you are walking a different pace on a different trail than those who misunderstand. No judgment against them, and no judgment against you. But you have to decide in those moments whether it is worth it to you to just keep walking. It is when you turn aside, stop walking, and try to match either their path or their pace that you stumble into stress.

But Lord…shouldn’t I care what people think? 

If you can continue to love them, and show love to them, even if they misunderstand you, then your love is really what is most important–not their understanding.

So You think that is why I felt so stressed the past few days? I was trying to be understood?

You were longing to be understood, and considering the many thoughts and opinions all around you, you were literally trying to morph yourself into being a chameleon in order to blend in, not make waves. But let Me ask you something about making waves.

What did you photograph this week?

Oh, ha, Lord! Waves!

What kind of waves?

Oh, my gosh–big waves, huge waves, sunlit waves, magnificent curls and splashes, wave spray backwards and shooting up in ethereal angelic forms and rainbow colors, multiple wave sets breaking all at once. Fabulous huge waves!

What would you rather photograph, if there was no danger, no destruction, associated with your images? A flat lake-like ocean, or the ocean you saw yesterday?

The ocean I saw yesterday, Lord. I felt so alive out there. It was cold and windy and until I came in and realized my lips and face were chapped, I hardly noticed in the moment!

So I would ask you to carefully consider your answer in terms of your own life, your own influence. If you had a choice–and you do have a choice–do you want to be a placid lake or a wild ocean?

Gosh, God, that doesn’t seem fair, asking me that question. You know how much I love peace. How much I don’t want discord.

Who said anything about discord? I am asking about energy and influence. Which would you rather be?

Hmmm. Can I be both peaceful and inspiring? Because that ocean yesterday was inspiring, God. It was. It made me think of possibilities. It woke me up somehow.

That ocean uncapped your well. And what came spilling out? Rage? Anger? All that you feared? Anxiety? Panic? Stress?

No, God, none of that. Exhilaration and gratitude and gladness and exuberance. Joy. Joy is what came out, I guess. 

So let Me ask you one more time: How do you feel about “making waves” now?

Nervous. But I hear You. I do. Can You help me?

Of course. To paraphrase what Aslan said to Lucy, I shall be helping you all the time.