"from You, I get the story..."

"Listening to You,  I get the music
Gazing at You, I get the heat
Following You, I climb the mountain
I get excitement at Your feet.

Right behind You, I see the millions
On You, I see the glory
From You, I get opinion
From You, I get the story..."

I have to admit, I was never a big fan of The Who.  And I never understood their 1975 rock opera, "Tommy." But recently, lines from their long-forgotten, "Listening to You," have been coming to me in the strangest moments -- stillness, silence, prayer.

And it's the song's opening lyrics -- See me. Feel me. Touch me. Heal me. -- that most often come as a dialogue with the divine.  It is as if God is inviting me into a deeper conversation.

See me [He says]: See My hand in everything. Whether it seems a blessing or a cursing. Since I am the only Cause and Creator, if it is, it is of Me. It is only your perception -- your view -- of it that needs to change. Find Me in everything. Find My presence, My purpose, My power.

Mary Baker Eddy writes in Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures:

"All that is made,
is the work of God,
and all is good." 

This is a definitive statement. It is not a suggestion to consider. It is not conditional. It is imperative and absolute.  Therefore, my "job," is to see Him -- God -- in all things.

Feel me: Stop giving this most precious sense of "feeling" to another creator. Don't let anyone, or anything, hijack your right to feel Me -- every moment. Feel love. Feel joy. Feel gratitude. Feel peace. Feel the presence of stillness. I am here. Feel Me.

Again, Eddy's words confirm this spiritual right to feel Him. She writes in Rudimental Divine Science:

"You must feel
and know that God
alone governs man..." 

This is a promise. You must. And she starts this promise, with our right to actually feel God's government -- even before knowing it. So how do I feel this Truth -- the Truth that God alone governs me, and mine, and all? 

I feel it every time I find myself setting aside self-concern, for what is in the best interests of another. I feel it in the way that Love is able to steady my resolve in the face of fear. I felt this morning, when every thing in me screamed that I could not possibly do something I had committed to doing.  And yet, Love prevailed and I was able to rise to the occasion.

The other night, as I was praying, it was the third line that took me by surprise in my conversation with God.

Touch me: Reach for Me. Linger in My love for you. Let your heart find refuge in My hold. Rest your concerns upon My promise. There was a visceral sense to this touch. It wasn't just a word -- there was weight and substance to it.

In Science and Health, Eddy refers to this "touch" when she suggest:

"Some people yield slowly
to the touch of Truth." 

And in her collection, Miscellaneous Writings 1883 - 1896 she writes:

"The easel of time presents
pictures — once fragmentary and faint — now
rejuvenated by the touch of God’s right hand.
Where joy, sorrow, hope, disappointment,
sigh, and smile commingled, now hope
sits dove-like." 

Ahh, to feel this touch. To actually feel it. My heart cries out for it's weight upon my life. To feel gentled by God's right hand. To know the rejuvenating power of this touch -- like sunlight upon the frost-blighted bud.

And my response.

Heal me:  Dear Father-Mother God, show me my innate wholeness. I am not asking You to fix what is broken, for You have never left me vulnerable to breaking. You have always been with me to hold me intact. I am your image and likeness -- pixel-for-pixel. There is not one mental molecule of my being that has the power to "go rogue." Heal me. Heal me.

This time, it was the first verse of a hymn from the Christian Science Hymnal that washed over, and around, and through me:

"In speechless prayer and reverence,
Dear Lord, I come to Thee;
My heart with love Thou fillest,
Yea, with humility.
My bread and wine Thou art,
With Thee I hold communion;
Thy presence healeth me
Thy presence healeth me." 

Because of these song-based conversations with God -- which happen more often than you might imagine -- I find myself singing songs I'd long forgotten, and listening for new meaning.

Listening to Him, I get the story. Because the story -- no matter what it may seem to be at first glance -- is always His. It is always about Him.

offered with Love,

Kate