"what stays the same..."

"I feel You here,
and You're picking up the pieces;
forever faithful.


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..." 

In this season of "all things new," I can't help but start with what is constant, enduring and changeless when thinking about my purpose moving forward. Regular readers might make the connection between this early January post, and a number of others "new years" pieces that I have written over the past 12 years of posting to this blog.

Sara Groves' "Less Like Scars" is a song that I keep coming back to -- especially when I am trying to realign with my sense of purpose.

And every year, the pain and hurt - distant or recent - do seem less like scars and more like character, clarity, compassion.

Each January, as I shift all my notes, reminders, and regular appointments from the previous year's calendar to a brandy, new, fresh one, I review the marginal ponderings that fill the blank space on every page. This annual review always includes my "purpose statement." I ask myself, "How is it the same, has it evolved, do I need to re-work the language?"

I can honestly say, that even though the details of "how" I can more clearly live that purpose has evolved, my core purpose itself has stayed the same. Whether it is why I post to this blog, write little miniature poems on FB, teach Sunday School, or am engaged in the healing practice of Christian Science -- that core purpose defines my work and keeps me aligned throughout the day, the night - and the year.

I clearly remember discovering the clarity of that purpose some years ago, and the feeling of "yes, this is why I have lived the life I have lived, and why do what I do." It is why I know that: "I belong here," [link to post] I am ready, and I am not alone."

I love this promise from Mary Baker Eddy*:

"You are not alone.
Love is with you
watching tenderly over you
by day and night;

and this Love
will not leave you
but will sustain you
and remember all thy tears,
and will answer thy prayers." 

My childhood was fraught with feeling alone. I thought that no one had ever been as alone as I was. I couldn't imagine that another human being had experienced the feelings of rejection, sadness, abandonment, sorrow, darkness - that I was drowning in.

And then one day, when I was almost 11 - and very ill, I was introduced to this paragraph from Mary Baker Eddy's Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures which includes the statement I have bolded for emphasis:

"The physical healing of Christian Science
results now, as in Jesus’ time,
from the operation of divine Principle,
before which sin and disease lose
their reality in human consciousness and
disappear as naturally and as necessarily
as darkness gives place to light
and sin to reformation.

Now, as then, these mighty works are not
supernatural, but supremely natural. They are
the sign of Immanuel, or “God with us,” 
— a divine influence ever present in
human consciousness and repeating itself,
coming now as was promised aforetime,
To preach deliverance to the captives [of sense],
And recovering of sight to the blind,
To set at liberty them that are bruised." 

I clung to that promise. I sought out this "God with us," at all times -- especially in the dark when I felt most alone. 

Knowing that, in fact, I was not alone -- changed everything. I was able to hold on through the dark times. I was able to look forward as we drove away from yet another house, neighborhood, friendship. I was able to draw closer to the God that was with me when every hope, dream, and plan dissolved after my dad passed on suddenly leaving me with my mom and seven younger siblings to support.

So, how do those statements, and my own experiences, define my over-arching purpose? Well, I absolutely know - with out a shadow of doubt - that I am here to behold [which Webster defines as "to see, and call attention to"] the presence of God's presence in the world. To remind us that we are not alone, that God, good is always with us. That we are never separated from Love - because there is always love in our hearts -- whether it is love we feel for something or someone, or the love that we appreciate and desire. 

I am here to never let us forget that nothing can deprive us of living that love. It is, to my sense, the great rebellion.

I am here to write, to say, to prove, to bear witness to, to remember that we are not alone. We are never alone.

And even in our darkest nights, in our moments of deep regret, in our want and woe -- we are not alone.  God, divine Love, is with us -- always. Love is there -- constantly gifting us with grace - mercy, understanding, joy, humility, patience...

In defining "the Mission of Christian Science" on page 107 of Science and Health, Mary Baker Eddy states:

"This apodictical Principle
points to the revelation of
Immanuel, "God with us," --
the sovereign ever-presence..." 

I am forever aligned with this mission of Christian Science. It is at the core of everything that I think, do, write, say, live, pray.

Reviewing my notes from last year's calendar, and listening  for Love to refresh my heart's sense of mission and purpose - I hear it clearly, "you are not alone." And I know, I am where I need to be, doing what I need to do -- today.

All the pain and hurt from the last year does seem less like scars, and more like character, clarity of purpose, deepened compassion, renewed fervency, and an awakened ardency of love for my God -- and all who might be feeling alone.

That is my purpose and it has not changed. I live to see and call attention to the presence of God in our lives -- individually and collectively. To pull focus away from all that would suggest that God is absent, any suggestion that we have been left alone to fend for ourselves and face the darkness. By focusing on God's presence, we draw attention back to the good that is right in front of us -- the love in our hearts, the hopes that will not die, the beauty found in the ordinary, the wisdom in simplicity.

Wherever you are, whatever your circumstances -- God is there, because you are there, and you are filled with dreams of beauty, hope for harmony, a desire for healing, your love for whatever God has put in your heart - to love. You are not alone.

offered with Love,

Kate

This quote is in a letter from Mary Baker Eddy to Caroline W. Frame, November 5, 1903 -- and is the collection of The Mary Baker Eddy Library.

"We come with purposes written on our hearts..."

"Redemption comes in strange places,
small spaces,
calling out the best of who we are

We come with beautiful secrets,
We come with purposes written on our hearts,
written on our souls.

We come to every new morning,
with possibilities only we can hold,
that only we can hold..."
- Sara Groves

A friend and I were emailing one another about the discovery of our deeper spiritual purposes.  It was a conversation that left me pondering the mixture of  deep content, and the demand for self-surrender, I feel in knowing what God wants of me.  Sara's song, "Add to the Beauty," sings to me of my purpose.  I want to add to the recognition of divine beauty, wholeness, and grace that is constantly coming to bloom in our lives, moment-by-moment.   I want to tell a better story.  No matter what "script" we have been handed, and might seem to be playing itself out in our lives, there is a better story beneath the surface of things.  And when we keep our eyes keenly focused, looking for God, good, in all things, we can find it.  It is always there.

"...I want to add to the beauty,
to tell a better story.
I want to shine with the light
that's burning up inside.

It comes in small inspirations.
It brings redemption to life and work.
To our lives and our work..."

Our conversation gave space to ideas that I'd been cherishing for the past few months. The questions pouring from my friend's heart: Why does this longing for personal direction almost feel like a physical tightness? Will I ever be able to really know, and let myself surrender to, God's purpose in my life? These questions, gave birth to the dialogue thread she has given me permission to share, in part, here:

Tightness and letting go...tightness and letting go...this is birth. This is mid-wifing the best in yourself, bringing your divine purpose forward into the light. 

It may look like contractions...a tightening, or seizing up...but it is really an expansion.  Much the way a balloon seems to return to a smaller size each time we take a deep breath while blowing it up.  But it never, ever returns to the old form...the one it held prior to that very first expansion.  It is always stretched a bit more with each breath so that the next expansion comes easier.

I know that you wonder if you will ever see that larger sense of purpose in your own life...whether you will discover those bigger dreams, higher aims.  Whether you will ever be new and alive with passion and divine direction...different from old forms and out-grown desires.

But, you are already different...you already have different dreams, different questions, a different vantage point than you had...even a week ago.  It's not something you have to decide to embrace or pursue, it has already embraced you, and this fresh breath of Spirit is blowing Its new life into your being, changing you...moment by moment...forever. 

This wildly, passionate you...the one who now loves to dress in bright colors, the you who is eager to try new foods, and paraglide from the edge of a cliff...  this you, is already alive and in formation...one beautiful, extravagant, exotic moment at a time. 

Let it happen.  Let Spirit, Pneuma continue to breathe Itself into your being.  Let it blow you, bear you like seed on the wind, carry you into your next chapter of holy labor, or time to be "at play in the fields of the Lord."  This is not a choice or a decision.  You don't have to go looking for your divine purpose.  As the Bible says,  "canst thou by searching find out God?"  Nope!  It comes to you and fills you with divine inspiration.   Those ins and outs, that feeling of ebbing and flowing urgency, passionate vision and then quiet contempation, they are the breath of God expanding and preparing you for a larger sense of life.  Or as Jesus said,

"I have come that they might have life,
and that they might have it more abundantly."

You asked me if this moment-by-moment embracing of a divine calling, a holy purpose, is enough for me?  Have I given up dreaming and desiring, wanting and needing?  I think I can say that what I have surrendered, is not a hunger for something more, but the fear that I might never find what I am looking for.

What I have given up is all the searching.  I am beginning to realize that I am really not a searcher, but an observer.  For the observer, there is no pursuing, no strategizing, no imagining.  As an observer, I watch to see what each moment includes, and how it will carry itself out.  If it includes a "dream," fine, I will dream it.  But it is no longer a down-the-road, someday-when kind of dreaming.   It is not "out there."

It is my truth.  It is what I am, right at that moment, embracing as conscious reality.  It is, right then,  a PRESENT thought, idea, image, concept.  It is not a future "imagining." It is, right now, a gift of beauty and wonder to bless me in the now of my conscious consideration...in my reflecting of Soul, my deep pondering.  And it is in the now, always, ever and only, in the now. 

But to answer your question:  I am no longer searching for a dream to build my hopes on. I have stopped trying to track down the perfect life.  I am trying to live in perfect contentment...right here, right now.  I am discovering a peaceful sense of freedom from decades of "want." 

It has come on the heels of a long chapter, one that has been filled with salvation-focused prayer and surrender. It has not been any more pretty, planned, harmonious, desired, or less uncomfortable than the humbling posture of any birth.  But like birth, it doesn't wait for us to say, "I'm ready now, go ahead,."  It moves in us, and through us, and can be neither resisted, or sought out.  It is simply to be yielded to, with complete abandon. 

I am still, very much, in the throes of that self-birthing.  But I no longer care if it ever really ends.  I am realizing that this just may be the holy position, stance, and posture I am being "called" to, according to Her spiritually designed purpose for me. 

I am aware that it really doesn't matter if I know who, what, where,  or when the "child" will come, it's going to happen anyway.  And just like with birth, it will come step-by-step, moment-by-moment.  I can only hope that I will breathe through each expansion (not contraction) with a sigh of grace, a exhalation of kindness, a breath of patience, meekness and non-judgment.

I am realizing now that I can always entertain myself by imagining how I would want to give birth, what I might want to wear to the hospital, the relaxation techniques I will use to get me through the contractions.  I can imagine when the due date will be, and what that date might mean.  I can dream about who will be there with me, and what music I will have playing on my ipod to distract me from discomfort and worry.

But when the birth happens...it happens.   And when my child, my growing and evolving divine purpose, comes forth, there is no stopping, designing, or controlling it.  In that moment, I can only decide what I am going to focus on.  And I am choosing, with each expansion of my purpose, to focus on the face of the One who made me, and loves me.  I am choosing to remember the look of love in His eyes.  All the dreaming, wanting, or imagining on earth...or in heaven...cannot change His purpose for me.

As we weep our way through our moments of self-birthing, perhaps it is those very tears that are the gift of "purpose" we are being called to...to cry, cleanse, purify...to surrender.  Our spiritual purpose in life is not a noun.  It is not this job or that dream, a particular guy, business, mountain, town, or title.  Our spiritual purpose is always a verb, an action.  We are purposed as verbs...to do something.  We are verbs needing no condition, geography, person, address, or circumstance to be ourselves...ever unfolding, ever evolving "from a boundless basis." For me it was the end of seeing myself in terms of a job, a career, a title...and the beginning of simply showing up each moment according to His, God's, purpose for me.

"...It comes in loving community.
It comes in helping a soul find it's worth.

This is grace, an invitation to be beautiful.
This is grace, an invitation.

And I want to add to the beauty
To tell a better story
I want to shine with the light
That's burning up inside..."

You have a divine purpose. Let it be born in you, let it bear you up, let yourself be borne...carried on the wings of the morning...into a higher and holier space. The space that is your calling. A calling...a purpose...that is, and always has been, yours, eternally yours.

with Love,
Kate
Kate Robertson, CS

Living with a Kingdom within

Always remember you have within you
the strength, the patience and the passion
to reach for the stars
to change the world.
- Harriet Tubman

This quote has been sitting on my desk (okay, the sideboard in our dining room where I sit to write) for two weeks.  It is typed, exactly as you see it above, as the inspirational header for a letter to donors from our local Children's Museum...one of the best in the world.

I have been looking at it because I have needed this reminder that what I need to take the next steps in my life are already deep within me like a clear, still, constant well of water...fathomless and reliable.  Jesus referred to this depth of being within as "the kingdom of heaven"....I like thinking that there is an entire, self-sustaining kingdom within me operating under the divine guidance of a benevolent, wise and generous King.  That His proclamations of purpose, movement, stillness, service...are offered to me, His waiting subject.....eager and ready to serve Him...with vision and affection that inspire my loyalty, obedience, passion, courage and vigor.

It is all already within me.  I just have to listen, with my face turned up towards the balcony where He delivers his messages of mission and purpose from....and I will always know what to do....well-prepared by my love for Him to serve him with devotion and grace...humility and honor.  He will place the armor, which bears his seal on my life and I will be able to carry out that mission safely and wisely.

So how can I know what my mission is....I have to know the language that is indigenous in this Kingdom.   What is the language spoken in this place, by my King....is it the language of fear, as in "If I don't go to this college, I am afraid that I may never succeed" or is it Love as in "I love theater arts and this school has a great Theater Arts department that would really give me the opportunity to share my talents".  Is the language spoken in the kingdom one of dissatisfaction "I am so sick of this job that I just have to get out of here to be happy" or one of satisfaction, "I have had such a complete experience with this job that I feel that I have learned all that I can learn and blessed the department as fully as I can and am so eager to move forward towards new opportunities for growth and sharing my love for this (or another) industry, trade, art form or discipline."

I always ask myself if the message that is being delivered from the balcony (in my thinking) is consistent with the character and nature, language and vision of the King.  Does it encourage me to trust Him, does it afford me the opportunity to grow in grace - "patience, meekness, love and good deeds"  - is it LOVE based...or does it try to use fear as a manipulative tool for getting me off course....and fear is a language that we just don't use, give attention to, understand or comprehend in this Kingdom.

I like having a Kingdom within me....As a young girl I was fascinated with anything "Arthur"....after Camelot (the film) came out in theatres I was even more obsessed. I read anything that included tales of noblesse oblige, the Round Table, and a kingdom where it "never rained till after sundown...July and August cannot be too hot ". My first formal dress I designed to look like Guinevere's wedding gown in the movie. It was a long sheath made from a heavy metallic fabric, with belled sleeves and a fine chain belt resting just below my waist. My hair was haloed in a thin garland of holly (it was a Christmas dance) and I wore ballet slippers that allowed me to walk with the quiet dignity of a queen...or so I thought. In reality I was a high school sophmore with soggy pink ballet slippers and my beautiful silvery dress was so heavy I could barely slow dance...forget about doing anything more energetic....but, I digress....

Those years of loving all things Camelot and Arthur gave me many mental images for considering this Kingdom within. I think about it as being a Kingdom that never sleeps....there is always something going on there.  When I am resting, the cook is up before dawn preparing the stillness that will sustain me through the day, the guards are at the gate keeping watch and admitting only those messengers that serve the King's mission and purpose.  I love thinking that the tailor is mending the garments of praise, and the panoply (the tunic worn by the standard bearer with the King's crest on it which announces the purpose of our crusade) of Love.  I am emboldened by the thought that every step I take on the cobbled paths in this kingdom have been worn smooth by the faithful feet of other servants, knights, maidens and guards, princesses and minstrels. I especially love thinking that a wise Sage, like the Merlin archetype is giving me the wisdom that will protect me from foolishness and folly.

So....today, I wait within the walls of the Kingdom, serving in the scullery or preparing for another mission, to share the King's love throughout the countryside, as his courier....currying my horse, preparing my pack....ready for the call of the trumpeters from the King's chambers...the voice of Love in my heart... signaling that a new message, a mission, is being delivered from the balcony.... I think I will go to the foot of the cross and wait to hear what He has in store for us today.  I am ready to serve my King...K

In short, there's simply not
a more congenial spot
for happily-ever-aftering
than here in Camelot.
- Alan Jay Lerner