"You are not alone, I am here with you..."

"Someone whispers
in my ear and says,

you are not alone,
I am here with you...”

Jason Chen's cover of Michael Jackson's,  "You Are Not Alone"  is such a gentle version of this song. A song whose melody seems to be how I hear that phrase "you are not alone," whenever it comes to mind.

I have spent most of my lifetime comforting children who feel alone. As a big sister, teacher in a state institution for children who have been made "wards of the state," school administrator, hospital chaplain, and serving at summer camps - assuring children that they are not alone.

Each child navigates that feeling of alone-ness in a different way. Some become dismissive, some distract themselves with constant movement, and others cry as if their every breath is a labor of love.

But here is what I have learned. This is not home-sickness. This is home wellness. These children have such a full and healthy sense of home and family -- even those who have never known a parent's love -- that it fills their being. I have worked with sister children who have never felt deeply settled and still there is a love for the concept of home and family that fills their being. I have taught in a state-run facility with children who had been institutionalized by their families, and still there is a hope of family and a natural inclination towards warmth, affection, and connection.

It is not something that can be taken from them. It is a deep home-wellness that crosses all socio-economic boundaries. From the autistic 4-year old in a state institution, to the privileged child of loving parents at a sleep-over summer camp, this love for home, family, and being parented by love -- is universal. And it never goes away.

This morning, as I was reading the Bible lesson, I was so moved to realize that the Scriptural precedence for addressing this claim of children feeling alone is right there in I Samuel.

Hannah, after years of barrenness is blessed with a son, whom she names Samuel. And even though she loves him with all her heart, she knows that he is destined for service to God and as a boy sends him to live with Eli the priest from whom he would learn how to love and trust the Lord.

This is where the part of the story - that is in our Bible Lesson - begin:


"And the child Samuel ministered unto the Lord before Eli.

And it came to pass at that time, when Eli was laid down in his place, [that] the lamp of God went out in the temple of the Lord, where the ark of God was, and Samuel was laid down to sleep;

That the Lord called Samuel: and he answered, Here am I. And he ran unto Eli, and said, Here am I; for thou calledst me. And he said, I called not; lie down again.

And he went and lay down. And the Lord called yet again, Samuel. And Samuel arose and went to Eli, and said, Here am I; for thou didst call me. And he answered, I called not, my son; lie down again.

Now Samuel did not yet know the Lord, neither was the word of the Lord yet revealed unto him.

And the Lord called Samuel again the third time. And he arose and went to Eli, and said, Here am I; for thou didst call me.

And Eli perceived that the Lord had called the child. Therefore Eli said unto Samuel, Go, lie down: and it shall be, if he call thee, that thou shalt say, Speak, Lord; for thy servant heareth.

So Samuel went and lay down in his place. And the Lord came, and stood, and called as at other times, Samuel, Samuel. Then Samuel answered, Speak; for thy servant heareth."

Today, this story has come alive for me in a new way. Samuel was just a boy. Just a child. He was alone in the dark. The person who was his care-giver -- not his parent -- had put him to bed and he kept getting up and asking if Eli wanted him.

Eli said, no, I didn't call you, go back to bed. Sweet persistent Samuel. He returns again and again to Eli's bedchamber. Until Eli finally realizes that God was speaking directly to Samuel in the dark. Comforting, assuring, inspiring him directly, tenderly -- by name.

My heart burst. Each and every child in the world -- whether at sleep-over camps with well-appointed cabins, or in refugee camps on hostile borders, can hear their name being called, can feel the calm comfort of that loving Voice speaking directly to them -- assuring them that they are not alone. This Voice is the voice of God, divine Love. This voice not only speaks to them of their Father-Mother God's presence, but of their own spiritual maturity and purpose.

Hannah, Samuel's mother -- who had yearned for this little boy with all her being -- must have known this presence herself. She must have known that God would reach out to her son and call him by his name -- just as he had heard her weeping, seen her own tears, and sent her a son. For she was His child too.

I will be holding this story close. It touches me deeply. For all children -- and their parents.

offered with Love,

Cate

"Take a look at yourself and change..."

"I'm starting
with the man in the mirror.
I'm asking her
to change her ways.

And no message could have
been any clearer:
'If you want to make
the world a better place
take a look at yourself,
and then make a change..."

I love Michael Jackson's "Man in the Mirror."  But it was this version of  "Man in the Mirror," from the film, Joyful Noise, that really hit home tonight.  Sometimes it is the way we are viewing ourselves that can make the biggest difference in how we see our world and the impact of our prayers.

Something happened Friday morning that bears telling -- as hard as it is to admit. I started my day, as I usually do, with prayer, scripture, inspiration, and more prayer. I was feeling peaceful and prepared for the day.

Then, out of the blue I felt a surge of unreasonable anger. A horrible darkness seemed to come out of nowhere. It didn't take long before I'd attached those feelings to myself, and a series of things I assumed were triggering such a visceral reaction.

I don't want to make light of this inner turmoil. It wasn't like anything I'd ever felt before. It was a combination of some very overwhelming feelings -- hurt, anger, despondency, frustration, betrayal, despair.  Feelings that left me sitting on the floor with my hands balled into fists, fighting the urge to break something.

It was ugly.  It was nothing I wanted to attach myself to. But I did. It felt as if there was something poisonous in me that was coming to the surface.  Something primordial.  Something I hadn't ever been aware of, but had been smoldering in me for longer than time. I felt sick with fear. Could it be that the decades of deep spiritual study, prayer, and stillness I'd devoted my life to, had not purged something I'd long buried.

I took it hard.  I felt incapacitated.  And that's when the phone started ringing off the hook.

"Have you seen the news, Kate?" I hadn't. But it didn't take long to catch up with the events of the morning. Each caller shared some new detail of the Newtown shootings that they hoped I'd be praying about.

No, I hadn't heard the news, I'd felt it. And I learned an important lesson yesterday morning. One that I hope I never forget.

In her Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures, Mary Baker Eddy states that:

"It is no more difficult
to read the absent mind
than it is to read the present."

 and elsewhere, in the same text she writes:

"We approach God, or Life,
in proportion to our spirituality,
our fidelity to Truth and Love;
and in that ratio 
we know all human need
and are able to discern
the thought of the sick and the sinning
for the purpose of healing them.
Error of any kind
cannot hide from the law of God.."

I'd experienced this kind of "discerning thought" many, many times. An intuitive thought would occur during a phone call, on a walk through a neighborhood, in a meeting, and I would know - without question - exactly what I needed to pray about. It would be immediately clear how I could best bear witness to the presence and power of God in that very moment, situation, or circumstance.

But because these dark feelings came so viscerally -- I had been tricked into thinking that they were mine. I had let "personal sense" come through the side door of emotion, and attach to those feelings, memories, stories and experiences that seemed so personal -- and thereby, take me down. Instead of detaching myself from anything dark and erroneous, I let it convince me that was a spiritual failure. Rather than accepting the gift of pre-knowledge about what I needed to be addressing prayerfully.

Could these dark feelings of anger, sorrow, despair have been a call to detach hatred from anyone -- myself, or a young man in Connecticut. I believe that they were. And next time, you better believe that I will be more alert to the insidious distractions of personal sense. You can bet I will not be found weeping on the floor, with my hands balled in fists of disappointment. Frustration with my own spiritual failings. Instead, I will be on my knees seeing only one man -- God's child, never separated from his/her divine Parent. I will be vigilant is seeing God as the only Source of anyone's identity, thoughts, emotions, motives, or acts.

Tonight, I'm taking a closer look in the mirror. I want to remember who I am. I am someone who knows that anger, despair, darkness, self-doubt, violence are never personal -- never mine, never yours, never his.

These ideas shared in a recent article in The Christian Science Monitor, are speaking to me in very powerful ways tonight:

"But beyond taking public action, the ultimate solution lies in each individual understanding that these shooters act out of the same anger, fear, and hopelessness that their violence evokes in us.

We cannot afford – as individuals or as a society – to keep mirroring their motivating angst.

The best antidote is to embrace the opposite of those thoughts and feelings. These include empathy, calmness, mercy, hope, and openness, all of which have as much substance to deter killings over time as do metal detectors in the moment."

 Darkness does not have the power to motivate anything. It cannot cause a leaflet to turn, initiate photosynthesis, facilitate growth, or urge the ripening of a tomato.

Only light can motivate creation and impel action.

Next time I feel strong emotions that are unlike my divine name and nature I will not attach myself (or anyone else) to them. I will summarily dismiss their claim on my identity. I will not identify darkness with my fellow man. I will search for why it might be emotionally reasonable -- for any of us.

This scripture from I Peter has fresh meaning for me tonight:

"Be sober, be vigilant;
because your adversary the devil,
as a roaring lion,
walketh about,
seeking whom he may devour."

 Personal sense, the ego, is the only adversary. It would love for us to become so personally attached to those dark emotions, that we feel unable, incompetent, unprepared, and incapable of dealing with them impersonally and effectively. It is only seeking to devour our sense of spiritual purpose.   It would love to convince us that we are feeling too hurt to bring healing, too angry to share love, too filled with despair to give hope.

On Friday it fooled me into thinking that those unhealthy emotions were actually part of me. That they were in my heart. In the future, I will be much more alert.  When the next cry for help comes in the language of dark feelings, I will be ready.

with Love,

Kate

"Why..."

It seem like, every couple of years, I need to be reminded why I ever started posting to this blog. At the deepest level, the original reason is never far from my heart...but it's easy to lose sight of at times. Thank you, dear S., for your email suggesting that I revisit this post from 2007:

"You are not alone..."

"…you are not alone
For I am here with you
Though we're far apart
You're always in my heart
you are not alone…"
- Jackson

Someone asked me the other day, "why do you write these posts twice weekly?". 

Was I trying to teach readers something new about spirituality? No, the Bible and Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures by Mary Baker Eddy...as well as countless other inspirational books, magazine articles, blogs and websites are lovingly dedicated to this kind of pedagogy. 

Was I trying to get my writing seen by blog surfing publishers? No.  Did I have an irrepressible urge to write? Yes, but this is not the reason I blog. 

I have been writing and journaling, at least two hours daily, for many, many years…I write a lot.  I didn't need another focus for my writing life. 

So, as I sat in front of this computer screen and really pondered her question: "Why do you blog?"

Then, the AOL icon at the bottom of my screen started bouncing, up-and-down, alerting me to a new email.  I shook myself from the deep reverie of self-examination to check the message...just in case there was an urgent need for attention.

This was the email that greeted me (shared with permission…all personal and identifying information deleted):

Dear Kate,

I had a difficult day and then read your web-log ("Sunrise, sunset") and nearly burst into tears. Of all the many things I have wanted to ask you is how you bear this very thing … this changing and growing and going. I feel it as sadness and loss. I can't seem to find joy there. My little girl, the world's very best baby, is turning (age deleted). I love to see what she is becoming, but I miss the girl she was even last year.

I have more birthday preparations and it's late. I want to thank you again for your writing and the healings on your website. I turn to it so frequently during the day.

Love...

In reading her message I remembered with such clarity why I post on this blog each Tuesday and Thursday…it is not to share my insights or inspirations, it is not to see my words self-published on the internet, it is not to receive notes of praise…it is for one reason…and for me, there is just one message:

"You are not alone."

Just before I sit down at my computer,  to write a piece for posting, I try to become very quiet and listen for a silent cry that speaks to my heart. I am listening for the tears of those who feel -  that in the darkness of their own private sadness or confusion – they are alone.  That somehow, they are the only ones who have every felt this frightened, angry, hungry for compassion or kindness. 

And then I listen for my own heart.  What in me is reaching out, from the posture of "experience," to try and offer understanding, compassion, comfort, and be a beacon of faint light in that darkness.  What can I share that will assure them that someone else has been there and that there is a way out. 

I am, in each posting,  trying to say…"I will sing this song, of God's amazing grace, loudly, so that you can know that you are not alone in the darkness. To remind you that God is there…right there in your own heart… impelling you forward.

"...Just the other night
I thought I heard you cry
Asking me to come
And hold you in my arms
I can hear your prayers
Your burdens I will bear
But first I need your hand..."

To know that we are not alone...that God is there at every juncture to take our hand and lead us into our own light...is a message so powerful to me.  To know also that God has appointed angels of kindness in our lives...friends, sisters, mothers, brothers...to be the hand we feel, the song we listen for...this makes me weep with gratitude.

Here is my reply to my friend's email (with some minor editing):

Dear...

I burst into tears sometimes too when I later read the raw nakedness of what I have felt about something and posted to the blog.  These issues of motherhood and of journeying towards evolving as a spiritual  woman in a world that is constantly inviting us to want, want, want...more, more, more...are such powerful catalysts for my own spiritual development (de-envelop-ment).  They strip me clean day after day of all pride and ambition and leave me childlike in my need for a divine Parent's embrace and care.

I often find that the ideas I have shared are so new to me when I finally read them. It is almost as if I wrote them without even thinking of them...as if they poured out of my fingertips without passing through the medium of this false mind that would like to call itself sovereign in my life….memory, speculation, imagination.  That they come from a more silent space – the heart.

But as for your question - I am realizing that the best thing I can give my daughters is HONESTY about the journey.  Allowing them to think that I have it even one bit more "figured out" than I really do, is cruel and sets them up for failure by comparison.  So...I am staying focused on integrity in parenting my children...integrity of heart, mind, spirit, actions, words...emotions.

It is sometimes very messy and organic...but it is true...and I like truth...alot...

love,
Kate

This is my truth.  I don't write from a longing to be heard, I don't write from a need to say something profound or pithy....but I do write from a deep desire to answer the call of  someone crying in the dark, to let them know that they are not alone. That their divine Father-Mother is there to comfort them, as She has been there to comfort me on so many long journeys through the wilderness.

"I speak from experience."
- Mary Baker Eddy

Here is a Youtube clip of Michael Jackson's"You are Not Alone":

"Heal..."

"Heal the world
make it a better place
for you, and for me
and the entire human race..."

Reports of the devastating effects of a widespread drought in East Africa and an unfathomable hunger crisis that has left millions facing starvation, knocks at the door of my heart hourly...and I am answering.

But there was a time when if I heard that knock, all I felt was helpless. Oh yes, I prayed for the world, but it was more a prayer of petition, than the exercise of divine law. Opening the door to suffering humanity was terrifying. I wasn't sure I would be able to respond...in any way but breaking down in tears...once I swung it wide and welcomed the world in. In fact, I remember watching this video of Michael Jackson's "Heal the World," and just sighing.  It was 1991, our daughter was not yet two, and the images of children living in poverty, civil urest, and homelessness contrasted so strikingly with our modest, but safe, warm, and peaceful life in a small university town in Colorado, that I couldn't wrap my arms around it.  

It had been two years since our return from South Africa, and yet I was still haunted by what I'd seen of the living conditions in Soweto, the Apartheid-era imposed racially segregated township housing over one million impovereished black Africans.  Raw sewarage, corrugated tin shacks, hungry children, and the angry faces of the oppressed were seared into my memory.  Seeing the images in the video only brought those earlier feelings of helplessness in the face of insurmountable social injustice and human indignity to the surface again.   And as Nelson Mandela learned during his tenure in prison:

"Freedom is indivisible;
the chains on any one of my people
were the chains on all of them,
the chains on all of my people
were the chains on me."

So, I reasoned, the suffering of any one person, was my suffering.  And I was feeling it.

But, I also knew that I didn't have to stay there.  If I wanted to witness healing and freedom in my own life...mind, body, spirit, my family, my community...I had to be willing to advocate for the impersonal, impartial, and universal well-being of everyone, everywhere.  And as a spiritual thinker, I knew  had an option other than despair and frustration...one that didn't compromise my heart's desire to see the end of oppression, or abdicate  my sense of social responsibility...but one, in fact, that gave me practical ways to make a difference.  I could take my human rights case to the Supreme Court...of Spirit.  

Just as a civil liberties attorney would hunker down with the Constitution to ground himself in the establishments of his clients rights, I knew that I had to ground my case in all that constituted the rights of man, based on divine law. 

As I began my research for the case of "global social injustice vs. God," it became instantly clear to me that throughout human history, as recorded in the Bible, our spiritual patriarchs had been faced with countless opportunities to litigate against oppression in the court of Spirit.  And time, and again, they had prevailed.  Moses, Ruth, Solomon, Jesus...especially Jesus...grounded themselves in the law of Love, and triumphed. 

As I poured over their case histories, two sentences..one from the gospel of Matthew, and one from Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures, by Mary Baker Eddy, became the cornerstone of my case. 

"Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself..."
- Jesus

and

"Love is impartial and universal
in its adaptation and bestowals."
- Mary Baker Eddy

On the constitutional foundation of these two statements I built my case.  There were so many inontrovertible accounts of "human justice patterning the divine" in the Bible -- to draw on for citing precendence -- that it made preparing for an "argument" unneccessary.  Any justification for treating an "other" as less deserving of good, would be inadmissable in the court of Spirit.  I knew that I had an absolutely airtight defense of humanity's right to peace, security, justice, dignity, health, and compassion.  I was ready. 

It had become crystal clear to me that Jesus' statement. "thou shalt love thy neighbors as thyself," was not a suggestion, but a spiritual imperative...a promise.  And that Eddy's declaration...her proclamation that Love's adaptiations and bestowals are impartial and universal ...without condition, leaving no one out, under any circumstance...were all I needed to rest my case.  

Over, and over, and over again, as one distortion of justice after another suggests itself for consideration and blind acceptance, I can, without finger pointing or judgment,  take a stand for the power of Love to enforce its own Law of divine providence. And through His Word, reverberating in each human heart, to:

"...enrich the affections of all mankind, and govern them"*

I've loved watching as God's Word,  advocating in defense of humanity's impartial and universal right to experience good, operates unspent and without hesitation in every corner of the universe...especially in my own heart.   I know the law of Love.  I am steeped in Scriptural precedence. Love always triumphs.  I trust it...unconditionally, unreservedly...with all my being.  

always,  
Kate

*From "The Daily Prayer," which can be found in the Section on "Discipline," of The Manual of The Mother Church, by Mary Baker Eddy.  It reads in its entirety:

"Thy kingdom come,
let the reign of divine Truth, Life, and Love
be sestablished in me,
and rule out of me all sin.

And may Thy Word,
enrich the affections of all mankind,
and govern them."

"Less like scars...more like character..."

"It's been a hard year,
but I'm climbing out of the rubble.
These lessons are hard
Healing changes are subtle
But every day it's...

Less like tearing, more like building
Less like captive, more like willing
Less like breakdown, more like surrender
Less like haunting, more like remember

And I feel You here
And You're picking up the pieces
Forever faithful

It seemed out of my hands,
a bad situation
But You are able,
and in Your hands the pain and hurt
look less like scars and more like...
character..."
-Sara Groves

I couldn't help but think of Sara Groves' "Less Like Scars" tonight...I think you will see why...

The following post, from this blog, was written and published originally in June of 2007.  A dear friend sent me a link to it, because it had been meaningful to her.  To be honest, I had forgotten writing it, so it was a wonderful gift to receive.  Just as wonderful, was the realization that it still rings as true for me today, as it did almost three years ago.  My purpose has not changed.  I still contribute posts to this blog for the very same reason.

My friend sent me this gift of love...tonight I am re-gifting it to you as a re-declaration of purpose...my purpose.  It is my truth, and it is more precious than gold, frankincense, or myrrh.  It is a purpose statement that has not changed...one bit.  I like that.  I like knowing that it is through my purpose...a holy, Love-inspired sense of purpose, that I find a contiguous thread of authenticity in my being.  It is helping me to see that I am becoming what I long to be...really, truly, genuinely be...a woman of my word.  I have trusted God's hand in designing my purpose statement, and am discovering that He has set His seal upon it, and impressed it firmly on my heart. What a gift to give someone.

As this decades comes to a close, and a new one is given birth, I promise to keep this spiritual purpose clearly, distinctly, precisely in focus. 

Here is the original post with the addition of this audio clip of "You are Not Alone":

"…you are not alone
_ I am here with you
_Though we're far apart
_You're always in my heart
_you are not alone…"_
- Michael Jackson

Someone asked me the other day why I write these posts twice every week.  Was I trying to teach readers something new about spirituality…no, the Bible and Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures by Mary Baker Eddy...as well as countless other inspirational books, magazine articles, blogs and websites are lovingly dedicated to this kind of pedagogy.  Was I trying to get my writing seen by blog surfing publishers….no.  Did I have an irrepressible urge to write…yes, but this is not the reason I blog. 

I have been writing and journaling (at least two hours a day) daily for many, many years…I write a lot.  I didn't need another focus for my writing life. 

So, as I sat in front of this computer screen pondering that question: "Why do you blog?" the AOL icon at the bottom of my screen started bouncing to alert me that a new message was in my mailbox.  I shook myself from the reverie of self-examination to check the message in case there was an urgent need for attention.  This is the email that greeted me (shared with permission…all personal and identifying information deleted):

Dear Kate,

I had a difficult day and then read your web-log ("Sunrise, Sunset") and nearly burst into tears. Of all the many things I have wanted to ask you is how you bear this very thing … this changing and growing and going. I feel it as sadness and loss. I can't seem to find joy there.

My little girl, the world's very best baby, is turning (age deleted). I love to see what she is becoming, but I miss the girl she was even last year.

I have more birthday preparations and it's late. I want to thank you again for your writing and the healings on your website. I turn to it so frequently during the day.

Love, ______

In reading her message I remembered with such clarity why I post on this blog each Tuesday and Thursday…it is not to share my insights or inspirations, it is not to see my words self-published on the internet, it is not to receive notes of praise…it is for one reason…and for me, there is just one message:

"You are not alone."

Just before I sit down at my computer,  to write a piece for posting, I try to become very quiet and listen for a silent cry that speaks to my heart….I am listening for the tears of those who feel -  that in the darkness of their own private sadness or confusion - they are alone.  That somehow, they are the only ones who have ever felt this frightened, angry, hurt, hungry for compassion or kindness. 

And then I listen for my own heart.  What in me is reaching out from the posture of "experience?" What is it that might bring them honest comfort and be a beacon of faint light in their darkness?  What story can I offer?  What can I share that will assure them that someone else has been there and that there is a way out? 

I am, in each posting,  trying to say…"I will sing loudly so that you can know that you are not alone in the darkness.  I will sing to remind you that God is there…right there in your own heart… impelling you forward.

"...Just the other night
I thought I heard you cry
Asking me to come
And hold you in my arms
I can hear your prayers
Your burdens I will bear
But first I need your hand..."

To know that we are not alone...that God is there at every turn, pause...at every juncture, to take our hand and lead us into our own light...is a message so powerful that it brings me to my knees.  To know, also, that God has appointed angels of kindness in our lives...friends, sisters, mothers, brothers...to be the hand we feel, the song we listen for...this makes me weep with gratitude.

Here is my reply to my friend's email (with some minor editing):

Dear....

I burst into tears sometimes, too, when I later read the raw nakedness of what I have felt about something and have fearlessly (or naively) posted to this blog. 

These issues of motherhood, and this journey in discovering my ever-evolving indentity as a spiritual woman, living in a world that constantly invites us to want, want, want...more, more, more...are such powerful catalysts for my own spiritual development (de-envelop-ment).  They strip me clean, day-after-day, of all pride and ambition, and leave me childlike in my need for a divine Parent's embrace and care.

I often find that the ideas I have shared are actually still very new to me when I finally read them myself. It is almost as if I wrote the words, without even thinking of them...as if they poured out of my fingertips without passing through the medium of this false mind that would like to call itself sovereign in my life….memory, speculation, imagination. 

I am learning that they come from a more silent space - the heart.

But as for your question:  "how do you bear this very thing … this changing and growing and going?"

I really don't know, other than to say that I try to use each day as a Love-impelled search for God...whether it looks like a triumph, or is filled with tears...it doesn't matter.  As a mother, I realize that the best thing I can give my daughters is HONESTY about the journey.  Allowing them to think that I have it even one bit more "figured out" than I really do, is cruel, and sets them up for failure by comparison. 

So...I am staying focused on integrity in parenting my children...integrity of heart, mind, spirit, actions, words...emotions.  It is sometimes very messy and organic...but it is true...and I like truth...alot...

with love,  Kate

This is my truth.  I really don't write from a longing to be heard, I don't write from a need to say something profound or pithy....but I do write from the deep desire answer the call of  someone crying in the dark, to let them know that they are not alone.  Yes, this is my truth, and I try to follow the wise counsel, and example, of my favorite author when she says:

"I speak from experience."
- Mary Baker Eddy

Back to December 31, 2009...

What a lovely year this has been.  What a gift it has been to see, as Sara sings in "Less Like Scars" that in God's hands my life looks, and feels:

"...Less like tearing, more like building
Less like captive, more like willing
Less like breakdown, more like surrender
Less like haunting, more like remember

And I feel You here
And You're picking up the pieces
Forever faithful
It seemed out of my hands, a bad situation
But You are able
And in Your hands the pain and hurt
Look less like scars and more like
Character

Less like a prison, more like my room
It's less like a casket, more like a womb
Less like dying, more like transcending
Less like fear, less like an ending

And I feel You here
And You're picking up the pieces
Forever faithful
It seemed out of my hands, a bad situation
But You are able
And in Your hands the pain and hurt
Look less like scars

Just a little while ago
I couldn't feel the power or the hope
I couldn't cope, I couldn't feel a thing
Just a little while back
I was desperate, broken, laid out, hoping
You would come

And I need You
And I want You here
And I feel You

And I know You're here
And You're picking up the pieces
Forever faithful
It seemed out of my hands, a bad, bad situation
But You are able

And in Your hands the pain and hurt
Look less like scars
And more like character..."

Yes, less like scars...more like character.  I hope that in His hands, your life feels that way too.  On to a new decade, a new year, a new day, the next moment - with hope...

in His hands,
Kate
Kate Robertson, CS

[photo credit: Colleen Johnston Campbell]

"We must bring salvation back...."

"...You and I must make a pact,
we must bring salvation back
Where there is love, I'll be there

I'll reach out my hand to you,
I'll have faith in all you do
Just call my name and I'll be there..."

Recently I saw an ASPCA (American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals) public service announcement in which this song, "I'll Be There." was used to deliver a plea for compassion.  At first it brought back memories of sitting with my back against one of the plaid cushions from the sofa in our living room, watching the Jackson 5 on The Ed Sullivan Show, on a Sunday night in the late 1960s or early 1970s. 

Sunday's were special in our family.  Church and Sunday School in the morning, gardening or a family outing...rock climbing in Red Rocks, antique bottle digging in some remote location, a drive into the nearby mountains...in the afternoon, and homemade pizza and dad-brewed and bottled root beer for dinner on newspaper spread on the floor of  the living room, while we watched "The Wonderful World of Disney."

Clean-up and dessert during Bonanza, baths and bed-time for the "little kids," then watching Ed Sullivan while we marked our Bible Lesson books until our own bedtime.

I loved Sundays. 

I can clearly remember my dad's reaction to seeing, and hearing, the Jackson 5 on Ed Sullivan.  He was spellbound by Michael's voice.  It was 1970 and I don't know that my dad had ever heard that "Motown sound" before.  And he loved it.  My dad worked long, hard days.  He had a wife and eight children to support.  He loved music, but had little, or no, time to indulge himself in its pursuit or pleasure.  His exposure to new sounds came from hearing break-out acts when they performed on Ed Sullivan. or overhearing something my sister and I played on our family phonograph.

So when I heard "I'll Be There" the other day, I smiled at the memory of my dad's delight with the Motown sound.  Before his passing, three years later, he would learn to play a few Marvin Gaye, Stevie Wonder, Smokey Robinson, and yes, Jackson 5 songs either on his beat-up guitar, or the old upright piano in the living room.  The majority of his repertoire was still Elvis and Roy Orbison...but occasionally he would break into a verse or two of "What's Goin' On" or "The Tears of a Clown."

I smiled...then I listened.

The lyrics were arresting.  Michael and his brothers were singing about "salvation". 

Questions raced through my mind. "Who was the singer making a pact with to bring salvation back?"  Was it a friend, a lover, Jesus....God?"

The song has been repeating itself over and over again to me this week.  I can't help by ask "how?"  How do we bring salvation back?  And, is the answer as simple as the song suggests..."where there is love, I'll be there."

It took me immediately to this statement by Mary Baker Eddy from her last published volume, The First Church of Christ, Scientist, and Miscellany:

"Individuals, as nations, unite harmoniously
on the basis of justice, and this is accomplished
when self is lost in Love - or God's own plan of salvation."

Hmmm...God's own plan of salvation: "when self is lost in Love"

And in her primary work, Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures Eddy defines "salvation" as:

"Life, Truth, and Love understood and demonstrated
as supreme over all; sin, sickness, and death destroyed."

I think this connection between salvation - the understanding and demonstration of Life, Truth, and Love (names for God that indicate His nature) as supreme over all, and the destruction of sin, sickness, and death - and Love, which is "reflected in love"...is profound. 

Could it be that "I'll Be There" lyricists Berry Gordy, Hal Davis, Willie Hutch, and Bob West, through the grace of God, caught some glimpse of this universal truth?  Did they see this connection, craft this lyric, and then hand its message to 12-year old Michael ,and his brothers to deliver to a world hungering for wholeness, mercy, and grace?

Consider these statements by other thought leaders:

"You know quite well, deep within you, that there is only a single magic,
a single power, a single salvation...and that is called loving." 
-  Herman Hesse

"Nothing worth doing is completed in our lifetime,
Therefore, we are saved by hope.
Nothing true or beautiful or good makes complete sense
in any immediate context of history;
Therefore, we are saved by faith.
Nothing we do, however virtuous, can be accomplished alone.
Therefore, we are saved by love.
No virtuous act is quite aa virtuous from the standpoint of
our friend or foe as from our own;
Therefore, we are saved by the final form of love which is forgiveness." 
-  Reinhold Niebuhr

"The salvation of this human world lies nowhere else
than in the human heart, in the human power to reflect,
in human meekness, and in human responsibility.
  -  Vaclav Havel

I only know that in my life, it is "in the loving"...in the acts of caring for others...my family, my children, hospice patients I volunteer with, campers, the homeless...that I find salvation from my own feelings of separation from God...or sin.

At a time in my life when I felt most broken...not by the choices of others, but by, what I considered, my own mistakes...it was only in those moments when self was lost in loving that I finally felt God's mercy, and hope for the resurrection of my own Christliness.

Love...gentle, generous, grace-filled - amazing grace-filled love...not sermon, philosophies,  or scholarship...bring salvation back into focus, and the saved, back to Him.

This is just something I am thinking about...in fact, it's what I think about all of the time these days...the connection between love, salvation, and healing. 

I believe that we...each of us...in our we-ness with God...must bring salvation back, by our loving...because, as the song says, "where there is love, He will be there"....with us.

with Love,
Kate
Kate Robertson, CS

"You are not alone..."

"…you are not alone
For I am here with you
Though we're far apart
You're always in my heart
you are not alone…"
- Jackson

Someone asked me the other day why I write these posts twice every week.  Was I trying to teach readers something new about spirituality…no, the Bible and Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures by Mary Baker Eddy...as well as countless other inspirational books, magazine articles, blogs and websites are lovingly dedicated to this kind of pedagogy.  Was I trying to get my writing seen by blog surfing publishers….no.  Did I have an irrepressible urge to write…yes, but this is not the reason I blog.  I have been writing and journaling (at least two hours a day) daily for many, many years…I write a lot.  I didn't need another focus for my writing life.  So, as I sat in front of this computer screen pondering that question: "Why do you blog?" the AOL icon at the bottom of my screen started bouncing to alert me that a new message was in my mailbox.  I shook myself from the deep reverie of self-examination to check the message in case there was an urgent need for attention.

This is the email that greeted me (shared with permission…all personal and identifying information deleted):

Dear Kate,

I had a difficult day and then read your web-log ("Sunrise, sunset") and nearly burst into tears. Of all the many things I have wanted to ask you is how you bear this very thing … this changing and growing and going. I feel it as sadness and loss. I can't seem to find joy there. My little girl, the world's very best baby, is turning (age deleted). I love to see what she is becoming, but I miss the girl she was even last year.

I have more birthday preparations and it's late. I want to thank you again for your writing and the healings on your website. I turn to it so frequently during the day.

Love...

In reading her message I remembered with such clarity why I post on this blog each Tuesday and Thursday…it is not to share my insights or inspirations, it is not to see my words self-published on the internet, it is not to receive notes of praise…it is for one reason…and for me, there is just one message:

"You are not alone."

Just before I sit down at my computer,  to write a piece for posting, I try to become very quiet and listen for a silent cry that speaks to my heart….I am listening for the tears of those who feel -  that in the darkness of their own private sadness or confusion – they are alone.  That somehow, they are the only ones who have every felt this frightened, angry, hungry for compassion or kindness.  And then I listen for my own heart.  What in me is reaching out from the position of "experience" that might bring them honest comfort and be a beacon of faint light in that darkness.  What can I share that will assure them that someone else has been there and that there is a way out.  I am, in each posting,  trying to say…"I will sing loudly so that you can know that you are not alone in the darkness and to remind you that God is there…right there in your own heart… impelling you forward.

"...Just the other night
I thought I heard you cry
Asking me to come
And hold you in my arms
I can hear your prayers
Your burdens I will bear
But first I need your hand..."

To know that we are not alone...that God is there at every juncture to take our hand and lead us into our own light...is a message so powerful to me.  To know also that God has appointed angels of kindness in our lives...friends, sisters, mothers, brothers...to be the hand we feel, the song we listen for...this makes me weep with gratitude.

Here is my reply to my friend's email (with some minor editing):

Dear...

I burst into tears sometimes too when I later read the raw nakedness of what I have felt about something and posted to the blog.  These issues of motherhood and of journeying towards evolving as a spiritual  woman in a world that is constantly inviting us to want, want, want...more, more, more...are such powerful catalysts for my own spiritual development (de-envelop-ment).  They strip me clean day after day of all pride and ambition and leave me childlike in my need for a divine Parent's embrace and care.

I often find that the ideas I have shared are so new to me when I finally read them. It is almost as if I wrote them without even thinking of them...as if they poured out of my fingertips without passing through the medium of this false mind that would like to call itself sovereign in my life….memory, speculation, imagination.  That they come from a more silent space – the heart.

But as for your question - I am realizing that the best thing I can give my daughters is HONESTY about the journey.  Allowing them to think that I have it even one bit more "figured out" than I really do, is cruel and sets them up for failure by comparison.  So...I am staying focused on integrity in parenting my children...integrity of heart, mind, spirit, actions, words...emotions.

It is sometimes very messy and organic...but it is true...and I like truth...alot...

love,
Kate

This is my truth.  I don't write from a longing to be heard, I don't write from a need to say something profound or pithy....but I do write from the deep desire answer the call of  someone crying in the dark, to let them know that they are not alone.

"I speak from experience."
- Mary Baker Eddy