So here I sit next to a mystical stream
or tree or something … with a now empty metaphorical
backpack at my side. Now what?
I notice that there is dust covering me, and I am afraid that every
passerby will notice too. It is embarrassing to sit here all covered in the
grunge of my past. I feel shame and
embarrassment. I know that every
passer-by can see … in my mind I am sure that I know exactly what they are
thinking. I’m afraid of the “what if’s”, what if my newfound God finds
out about me, too? As I think those thoughts I slowly begin to sense a feeling
of warmth and certainty fill my body.
I sense that I am
safe again. I can now
both sense and hear that Voice within,
and this is a poor description of that experience, but they are the only words
I can use to describe what happens when I communicate with my Creator.
The Voice is so much a part of me now and it tells me that these things that I called “my stuff” are only the things that
happened, they are not who I am. Perfect, Upright and Beautiful, Some Days
My Behavior Stinks, I am not my Behavior.
I sense or hear that this Power within me loves me for me, then I
remember an old phrase:
God Don’t Make No Junk.
I begin to look for someone who has already walked this part of the
path, someone to share with, someone who seems to know their way along this
pathway. I know that I need to do
this. I know that I want to brush off the dust of my past. Just like cataloguing the stuff, I now know in my heart of hearts that I must unburden
myself in the presence of both my Higher
Power and another living breathing human being.
This feels scary but I know this must be done.
Who will I trust? I ask for
guidance from my Higher Power, just a short prayer and as I do I notice someone
is there beside me. I look at them and
just know they are the one.
Together we sift through the dust.
For the first time in my life I feel accepted and safe.
. . . Experience Has Taught Me That . . .
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