"my temporary home..."

"This is my temporary home,
it's not where I belong -- 

windows and rooms 

that I'm passing through.

This was just a stop,

on the way to where I'm going. 

I'm not afraid because I know

this is my temporary home."

 I fell upon this Carrie Underwood video of "Temporary Home," while I was looking for another song -- and that, as they say, was that.

Recently someone asked me about my relationship to the concept of "body."

For one thing, I love it.   I am grateful for every way that it allows me to more fully express my relationship with God.   

With arms, I am able to show affection.  It is an honor  to manifest God's presence -- as Love -- in this way.   With this bodily form, I able to express grace, order, and precision as a dancer.   Thus sharing, with those around me, a window on the  choreographing power of divine Principle.    

I hope this gives some insight on how I  am thinking about the concept of "body" these days.   I do not presume to define this for anyone else.   I am so grateful for the writings of Mary Baker Eddy as I consider this subject.

In her Miscellaneous Writings 1883 - 1896 (page 47), she states that:

"In Science, body is the servant of Mind,
not its master; Mind is supreme."

 and elsewhere, in her primary work, Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures (page 216) she says:

"This understanding... 
makes the body harmonious,
it makes the nerves, bone, brain, etc.
servants instead of masters."

 She doesn't say that we don't have a body -- just that it isn't our master.  God is.

In fact, in her definition of "Temple." (also from Science and Health) Eddy ties the "body," to form and function when she writes: 

"Temple. Body;

the superstructure of Truth;

the shrine of Love..."

Don't you just love it?   It makes me so happy to think that with the help of this body I can give form to Truth, a sanctuary in which I bow to Love, surrender to Soul, yield to Spirit.

So, as I go about my day -- seeking ways to fulfill my mission to serve our God -- I find it useful to have the help of this servant-body. It is a beautiful, strong, functional, graceful, willing servant. It is obedient and responsive.

And it is my temporary home.  My "forever home" is the consciousness of Love.  

But this temporary home serves to house -- in this current experience -- all the spiritual, God-derived goodness that I include as His reflection. 

 With the help of its strong walls I can be a shoulder to lean on. Through it's clear windows I can see out from a pure heart, filled with Love. 

 But it is Love's shrine, Truth's superstructure. It is not mine. It never was. Love maintains it function, Truth sustains its form. I am, simply, eternally...grateful.

I believe, at least for today -- since I am always willing for God to shift my perspective -- that this is my temporary home, and it is as ever-evolving as my consciousness of God's purpose for me evolves.

But as it evolves spiritually it is always becoming more beautiful to me...not less so.

offered with Love,

Kate

"Oh happy day..."

"Oh happy day,
Oh happy day,
When Jesus washed,
When Jesus washed,
He washed my sins away..."

Don't you just love this performance of "Oh Happy Day," from the film, Sister Act.  It gives me chills.  It has the same effect on me as almost any performance of "Amazing Grace."

To have my "sins" washed away by Jesus' message of Love-inspired salvation, always takes my breath away.  But lately, as I have considered what this really means to me, I started to see that I was cherishing a mental image of a traditional baptism, as "how" Jesus washed away sins.  But, Jesus, himself, never baptized anyone in a large body of water or by sprinkling water on their heads or foreheads...that we know of anyway.   But, what he did do though, was wash feet. 

His example was not one of a spiritual leader who, from the lofty summit of greater spiritual insight and demonstration, magnanimously absolves man from his sin (any belief in a separation from God, good, and His creation...and the reaction to that belief) through a ceremonial immersion in water.* 

No, his model was that of a servant, naked before those he ministered to -- humbly washing the most dirt-ravaged parts of their bodies...feet that had walked miles on dusty roads in open sandals...with the tenderness of a parent washing a child's wounds.   Teaching each of them "how" to do it, and then offering this gentle instruction:

"...ye should do as I have done to you."

So, I have to ask myself: "am I...?"

  Mary Baker Eddy's counsel, in part, through these passages, has provided insight and guidance.  She writes in Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures:

"To...follow his [our Master's] example, is our proper debt to him and the only worthy evidence of our gratitude for all that he has done."

and

"We all must learn that Life is God. Ask yourself:  Am I living the life that approaches the supreme good?  Am I demonstrating the healing power of Truth and Love? If so, then the way will grow brighter "unto the perfect day."


A brighter day, a perfect day...oh happy day...
Kate

*I am so grateful that  Mary Baker Eddy defines "baptism" as:  "Purification by Spirit; submergence in Spirit."  What a wonderful way of thinking about this term.

"I pray you dance..."

"…I hope you never fear
those mountains in the distance.
Never settle for the path
of least resistance.

Living might mean taking chances...
but they're worth taking.
Lovin' might be a mistake...
but it's worth making.

Give the heavens above
more than just a passing glance…
and dance…"

I love Leann Wommack's version of "I Hope You Dance," and used it in an earlier post by the same title a few years ago, but this version of "I Hope You Dance," by Ronan Keating takes me apart...especially that last line.

Dance seems to be an inspirational theme today...friends Heather, Traci*, and Sandy have posted dance-related inspiration...so I think I'll stay with their theme,  and walk  forward into this sea of whirling dervishes a bit and see where it takes me.

I am a dancer...ballet was my discipline, but take me to a wedding, or a country bar with a great band, and I'm just as happy as a child.  I love the feeling of having the moving air lift my hair off my shoulders, while my bare feet skip and slide through the long grass at a blue grass festival,  or worn slippers...of the palest pink leather...leap off the wooden floorboards of an old stage...I am in heaven.

My body is my partner in those moments.  We are a celebration of the marriage between mind, body, and spirit.  There is a sense of wholeness in the way music is interpreted as movement.  It is this sense of wholeness, that brings the coincidence of divinity with humanity into clear focus for me....almost like no other single experience or act.   To understand God as the divine Choreographer is the definition of "integrity" for me.

Integrity, integration, integral...nothing separate, fragmentary, silo-ed, categorized...no hierarchy between Mind, Soul, Spirit...Love.   Mary Baker Eddy,  in Miscellaneous Writings 1883 - 1896:

"In Science,
body is the servant of Mind,
not its master:
Mind is supreme.."

And since the body is the servant of Mind (one of the seven synonymous names for God) then, it is also the servant of Love, Principle, Truth, Life, Soul, and Spirit.

The body, dancing to the music of Love's urging, embraces a friend, carries a child out of harm's way, walks any distance to reach someone in need.

The body, swaying to the rhythms of Truth's demanding, swings its legs over the edge and rises from the bed of pain, sweeps the floor, swings a hammer during a Habitat for Humanity project.

The body, stepping to the precision of Principle's march, places a firm, but gentle hand on the shoulder of a despairing neighbor, neatly braids the child's hair, bends to lift the weary and the weak.

The body, leaping at the opportunity to serve Spirit, joyfully bounds onto the basketball court, quickly steps into the fray, effortlessly slips into the hand of the fearful offering comfort.

The body, weaving beauty at Soul's persuasion, sweeps her bow across a cello's strings, breathes a lullaby through the nursery, paints a garden in the midst of urban blight.

The body, poised in anticipation of Love's direction, sits in stillness with the widow, expectantly watches for the errant child, patiently serves, persistently waits.

This body...that so faithfully serves Mind's holy, sacred purpose...is beautiful, graceful, flexible, strong, and full of promise. 

Let it dance...

This was a helpful reminder yesterday, when everything in me said, "you can't possibly move freely"...I just kept repeating, "let it dance..."  And it did.

I pray you dance...with Love,
Kate
Kate Robertson, CS

*And if you need something to remind you of how much fun dancing is, watch this "Dancing at the Movies" video...thanks Traci for the reminder!! 

"to see you holy, holy, holy..."

"Open the eyes of my heart, Lord
Open the eyes of my heart.
I want to see you,
I want to see you  -
holy, holy, holy..."

Last week's Bible study was rife with reminders that it's all about seeing what is right in front of you through different eyes.  I haven't been able to move on from those scriptural messages this week.  I've woken with the Women of Faith's version of Paul Baloche's "Open the Eyes of My Heart" singing through my veins this week.  I wanted to think about it more, but each day seemed to make its demands on my thoughts before I could find the time to really ponder it.

But this morning,  I lingered in the space of stillness -- that conscious vestibule between sleeping and waking where I am only aware of my thoughts, not the sentience of seeing the room around me, hearing the birds outside our windows, or feeling the quilts and linens around me - and stayed with last week's messages about "seeing" for as long as I could.  This space of conscious being is my favorite place to "abide," and it was in this mental room that I finally saw the relationship between the story of Elisha and his servant facing the army of the King of Syria, and Jesus' parable of the householder who finds his field is sown with wheat and tares. 

For the first time I noticed the contrast between the worrisome King of Syria's suspicion that someone in his own household had betrayed his location to the King of Israel, and the peaceful householder in Jesus' parable who never once accuses a member of his own household, but immediately states, "an enemy hath done it" and confidently trusts the power of Spirit, the breath of God, to separate the tares from the wheat...much the way the prophet Elisha, in the former story, was sure that his servant would be able to see an army of angels "round about Elisha,"  if his eyes were just opened to God's universal goodness. 

Right where the servant's fear saw a host of enemies, the eyes of the prophet's heart, the lens of Love, revealed only a host of angels.   An enemy becomes a friend through the eyes of Love.  Love never sees anything but the child of God.   There weren't two different armies -- but the transformation of an enemy fitted for battle, into a host of angels ready to bless and protect.   The tares of fear, hatred, suspicion, and distrust blew away in the strong breath of spiritual vision.

As I was pondering this, I realized how true it is that we never need to sort our global "neighbors" (or household) into friends and enemies, but to change our sense of them into only "children of God" or, as the prophet promised,  "a host of angels round about" us.

Whether we seem to be a facing a border dispute with a contentious neighbor, battling with memories of a time when we were in conflict with a family member, burdened by fears that a future event could devolve into hurt and regret, or hear about a gunman terrorizing a Texas university campus, through prayer, we can always "open the eyes of our hearts" to the freshening breath of Spirit, see "even this" through the lens of a loving prophet vision, and begin to diffuse fear, hatred and anger with the gentling hand of Soul. 

Today, as I was looking for a favorite passage from Steven Pressfield's "The War of Art," I accidentally googled the title backwards, and up popped a reference to Napolean Bonaparte's "The Art of War," highlighting this quote:

"The extent of your consciousness
is limited only by your ability to love
and to embrace with your love
the space around you, and all it contains"

I was stunned.  This was not the kind of thinking I'd associated with a man I had always considered a pint-sized dictator with a hungry, mad ambition to rule Europe, and a relentless drive to push his army across a frozen continent towards their doom. 

Suddenly I wanted to know more.  I was interested in knowing him, in understanding more about a man I'd long dismissed out of hand as not very admirable.  What a wake up call. 

All day I've been asking myself, "how have I been seeing my "neighbors" -- globally and locally? As enemies, when I could just as easily  "open the eyes of my heart" and see them as friends who may have some arrestingly beautiful thoughts to share, and viewpoints that could enrich my life with vision and inspiration.

Again, Mary Baker Eddy's statement from Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures reminds me:

"The very circumstance which your suffering sense deems wrathful and afflictive, Love can make an angel entertained unawares.  Then, thought gently whispers..."

I love it when Mind, expressing itself as consciousness, surprises me with a gift of grace...

thank you God,
Kate
Kate Robertson, CS

"I choose You...."

"…I choose You
All my attention, affection
And all my devotion's for You
If everybody's worshipping something…
I choose You

Before I chose You,
You first chose me
I worship You,
You alone are worthy

You alone deserve it-
all of my worship
Lord I choose You…"
-Point of Grace

Someone asked me today if I had made my choice of candidates for this historic presidential race.

I spent most of the day thinking about this question, as well as why I actually feel so at peace about where my heart is on the extraordinary privilege of electing our next president with my one vote.

For me, it boils down to the simple message found in the above lyrics.  I chose Him/Her.  I choose to commit my life and my choices, my thoughts and decisions to my highest sense of what most honors my devotion to God.

When weighing my options during this election season, I've found guidance and direction in this simple, yet profound, passage of Jesus Christ's from Matthew:

"...Then shall the King say unto them on his right hand,
Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom
prepared for you from the foundation of the world:
For I was an hungered, and ye gave me meat:
I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink:
I was a stranger, and ye took me in:
Naked, and ye clothed me:
I was sick, and ye visited me:
I was in prison, and ye came unto me.

Then shall the righteous answer him, saying,
Lord, when saw we thee an hungered, and fed thee?
or thirsty, and gave thee drink?
When saw we thee a stranger, and took thee in?
or naked, and clothed thee?
Or when saw we thee sick, or in prison, and came unto thee?
And the King shall answer and say unto them,
Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto
one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.

This is my model for true servant-leadership.  My candidate will be the man or woman who first chooses to serve the hungry, the thirsty, the stranger, the naked, the sick, the imprisoned…the widow and the fatherless, before he, or she, asks me to choose him…or her. 

Each of us will stand in the voting booth with our God and our one vote…I can't wait.

With Love,
Kate