Real Care is Not Ambiguous: The Loaves and Fishes are Not Dead

“Real care is not ambiguous” thus said Henri Nouwen and yet the word itself can suggest a certain amount of ambiguity. When someone says they will take care of something or someone it can sound almost threatening, there is certainly a sense of power over another in play, in phrase “I will take care of it, or I will take care of them.” This is not real care. Real care is about relationship; real care is about empathy; real care is about love. In this sense “real care is not ambiguous.”

I think one of the saddest and loneliest phrases, you will ever hear in the English language is, “I don’t care”. Who amongst us can say that they have never uttered them? If not out loud, so that others could hear them, at least inwardly to themselves. I’ve said it. I said it many years ago and later denied doing so. I said it though and regretted it immediately. It was at a moment in my life when I had sunk so far into the pain of my lost little self that I did not care anymore. I was in hell and the uttering of those words proved it at that moment in time.

Thankfully, although at times I do feel weariness towards aspects of life, it has been many years since I did not care; it has been many years since I experienced the pain and loneliness of indifference.

There’s another phrase along this theme, which I often hear spoken, “I don’t care what people think of me.” Now while I think I understand what people mean by this, that they are no longer ruled by the views of others, what matters is how they see themselves, there is something in this phrase that still bothers me. I never want to reach the point where I do not care at all what people think of me. I never want to, once again, experience indifference. While I am not ruled by the views of others, it matters to me what they believe. I care a lot.

As a child I was considered overly sensitive, that I felt too much and that I took things personally. While it was thought of as a likeable quality, I know it was seen as a serious handicap too. I remember my stepfather telling me I needed to toughen up and he certainly tried to in ways that were not healthy. All this really led to was me closing part of my humanity down. This did lead to a sense of indifference at some later stages of my life which led to some horrific feelings of loneliness, isolation and disconnection. Thankfully I eventually saw the truth of this and through love I began to connect and care again. This seeming blight became an asset as I was able to care once more. It wasn’t so much that I lost the sensitivity, that I felt less, it was more that I recognised that these feelings were not about me. I took things less personally and it was this that allowed me to begin to serve, to minister.

To minister is to serve and to serve is to care. It is about connection it is about relationship it’s about bringing that loving space alive. I learnt this through the example given to me by John Midgley when he came and tried to be with both me and others during an horrific time in our lives. John couldn’t heal or change anything. He was as powerless as we were, but he was able to be with us in our shared powerlessness and somehow in this space the healing power held us together. An example I will never forget. It is something I have been thinking of again these last couple of years I have become more involved in helping to develop ministers.

To truly care is to connect, to relate, to be a part of something, it is not a power relationship, it is intimate and it is mutual. It is empathy. This is heaven, this is love, this is what it means to care. This is what it means to turn to as opposed to turn away despite the pain, fear and confusion. This is courage. To care takes courage, it comes from the heart, it is the heart alive and on fire. To not care is the way of the coward; to not care is a frozen state, indifference requires a frozen heart.

I have heard hell described in many ways, what it means to be living in a state of hell. I think the most accurate explanation of hell, is that it is indifference. It is a sense of disconnection from the feelings and concerns of others. Hell is indifference. To live in hell is to be indifferent to sufferings of others. Dante’s Inferno described it thus.

Extract from Dante Alighieri’s “The Divine Comedy” Inferno (Hell), Canto III

ARGUMENT.—Dante, following Virgil, comes to the gate of Hell; where, after having read the dreadful words that are written thereon, they both enter. Here, as he understands from Virgil, those were punished who had passed their time (for living it could not be called) in a state of apathy and indifference both to good and evil. Then, pursuing their way, they arrive at the river Acheron; and there find the old ferryman Charon, who takes the spirits over to the opposite shore; which, as soon as Dante reaches, he is seized with terror, and falls into a trance.

Hell is indifference. Hell is not fire but in actual fact a frozen state, a state where a person no longer cares and has grown cold towards, others, towards life itself.

Here’s a story depicting the difference between Heaven and Hell, from the Zen Buddhist Tradition. I have shared it before. It’s one of those stories you hear different versions of in many traditions.

Once upon a time, in a temple nestled in the misty end of south hill, lived a pair of monks. One old and one young.
“What are the differences between Heaven and Hell?” the young monk asked the learned master one day.
“There are no material differences,” replied the old monk peacefully.
“None at all?” asked the confused young monk.
“Yes. Both Heaven and Hell look the same. They all have a dining hall with a big hot pot in the centre in which some delicious noodles are boiled, giving off an appetising scent,” said our old priest. “The size of the pan and the number of people sitting around the pot are the same in these two places.”
“But oddly, each diner is given a pair of meter-long chopsticks and must use them to eat the noodles. And to eat the noodles, one must hold the chopsticks properly at their ends, no cheating is allowed,” the Zen master went on to describe to our young monk.
“In the case of Hell, people are always starved because no matter how hard they try, they fail to get the noodles into their mouths,” said the old priest.
“But isn't it the same happens to the people in Heaven?” the junior questioned.
“No. They can eat because they each feed the person sitting opposite them at the table. You see, that is the difference between Heaven and Hell,” explained the old monk.


In the story “Heaven and Hell” appear exactly the same and yet they are experienced oh so differently. In Hell all go hungry because everyone tries to feed themselves only, they are purely self-focused and fail to recognise the hunger in their neighbour sat opposite them. And yet in heaven they attempt to feed one another and are therefore fed in abundance. To me this is as much about the relationships as the food going into one another’s mouths. I believe that we all possess an innate need to serve one another that if we do not do this part of our natural humanity withers away and dies off. By not serving one another we starve our souls. Seems pretty clear, there is nothing ambiguous here. This is real care.

Henri Nouwen said “real care is NOT ambiguous”, he highlighted that the word “care” has its origin from the old English word “caru” meaning “sorrow, anxiety, grief” as well as "burdens of mind; serious mental attention," from the Proto-Germanic word “karo” meaning "lament; grief, care". To really care is to truly feel another’s sorrow to cry out with them and to truly be with them. To care is to truly empathies and not merely sympathies. To truly care is to be with another, it is about meeting another in common human relationship. This is why indifference, to not care, it is hell. This is because it is about breaking that sense of relationship, it is emptiness it is loneliness. It hurts to care, which is why so often we turn away. No one likes to feel powerless and to care is about recognizing our singular powerlessness at times. It’s also about recognising the healing power that can begin to grow from this powerless state, as the common grief is recognised and shared and the healing comes in that very space. This is the power of love. This is the miracle of healing that is recounted again and again in the Gospel accounts; it is the same love that comes alive once again when we recognise one another and truly care. We make heaven. We create the kin-dom, the one-ness of love, right here, right now. For heaven is a place where everything connects.

You see this clearly in the example of Jesus in the Gospel accounts. As Nouwen points out. As Jesus came out of his solitude, he reached out his caring hand to those in need. From his lonely place his care grew strong and from here he entered a healing closeness with his fellow humans. The key is the relationship. It wasn’t merely that he fed folk, or healed them. He did not do so alone, the power is in the relationship. Yes, he fed the people with the loaves and fishes, but only after first been given them by a stranger in the crowd. The Disciples then fed the people face to face. This is care, this is a deep loving relationship. Before returning the boy of Nain to his widowed mother, he first felt her sorrow. Lazarus was raised from the dead through the experience of distress, sorrow and tears. There is a deep connective relationship here, that brings life from death. It is not so much that folk are cured, by some kind of magic. This is not the key to these stories; no, the key is in the relationship. This is real care. It is solidarity in the suffering, participation in the pain. It is the shared experience of suffering; it is deep human connection. This is what it means to truly care. There is nothing ambiguous here. To really care is to truly feel another’s sorrow, to cry out with them and to truly be with them. To care is to truly empathies and not merely sympathies; to truly care is to be with another; to truly care is about meeting another in common human relationship; to truly care is to inhabit Heaven on earth. Where as to be indifferent is to live in a state of Hell. Heaven is connection and Hell is disconnection. It is heaven that is the warm place and hell that is frozen over.

Many people say they feel lonely, that they experience a sense of disconnection. This can become even stronger at this time of the year, early January. The weeks in the deepest part of winter following the Christmas festivities. These are cold, frozen days. Sometimes these frozen feelings are not caused by the temperature of the air, but by indifference and a sense of disconnection. We yearn to be warmed, we yearn to be fed.

Here is a wonderful  poem by David Whyte inspired by "Loaves and Fishes"

“Loaves and Fishes” by David Whyte

This is not
the age of information.

This is NOT
the age of information.

Forget the news,
and the radio,
and the blurred screen.

This is the time of loaves
and fishes.

People are hungry,
and one good word is bread
for a thousand.

“The loaves and fishes are not dead” it comes alive when we care, when we connect, when we empathise and sit with one another. It warms our hearts and souls.

Real care is not ambiguous. Hell is the frozen place; it is Heaven that is warm. We will begin to warm our own hearts and those we share this world with, in and through true care. It begins by recognising what we have in common. It comes in recognising our shared sense of powerlessness at times, for here is where the power comes alive, in this deep relationship of care.

It begins by reconnecting in and through care. Let’s not become frozen people, indifferent people, let us live in and through care. For in so doing we will bring warmth to our lives and those we share our lives we.

Let’s care a lot…

Here is a video devotion based on the material in this "blogspot"

Super Ordinary Heroes: The Lives of Christopher Reeve and Victor Frankl

“When the first Superman movie came out I was frequently asked, "What is a hero?" My answer was that a hero is someone who commits a courageous action without considering the consequences...

...Now my definition is completely different. I think a hero is an ordinary individual who finds strength to persevere and endure in spite of overwhelming obstacles.”

Christopher Reeve

I recently watched “Super/Man: The Christopher Reeve Story”. It was a powerful and moving documentary film about not only his life, but his family’s life also. Like a lot of young people, of my generation, Superman was the ultimate hero, and Christopher the archetype. I went to see all of the first three films at the pictures. Just like young people do today as they marvel at such features. Christopher Reeve seemed to be the perfect image of the “Superman”. He was the all American hero and a great success. He seemed to be well loved too by his contemporaries. He had a life long friendship with Robin Williams. He had lived something of a hedonistic lifestyle, living the good life and achieving much. Then tragedy struck and he became paralysed from his neck down after being thrown from his horse.

His chances of survival were slim. In fact he only survived due to a new surgery. He fell into despair and said to his wife Dana “Maybe we should just let me go”. Dana persuaded him to give himself two years and told him “But you are still you. And I love you.” He was still him, but he could no longer physically touch life. Despite all he had lost he still had had the love of his family, he also had fame and saw that he could create something powerful and useful from this. So, he decided use all he had to create something good. He and Dana set up the “Christopher and Dana Reeve Foundation”.to help both other paraplegic people but also develop research to help people perhaps one day walk again, to heal spinal injuries.

Christopher Reeve realised that even though he could no longer use his body, he had a power that so many other people do not. He could use his fame. He could create something from this tragedy. He succeeded he created something incredible, as did his family. Sadly, he died suddenly in 2004 but his legacy lived on. A year later his wife Dana was diagnosed with stage four lung cancer, sadly she died only a year or so after Christopher. This left their son Will without either parent. He and his older siblings Matthew and Alexandra, from a previous relationship, carried on the work of the foundation.

There is a moment towards the end of the film where Will speaks of the death of both of his parents and the potential to slip into despair. He, spoke of a decision, of a choice that he and perhaps all of us have to make. That you can look at the universe and look at life and say it is simply meaningless; or you can search out a meaning and create something from this. It struck me powerfully, in fact it filled me with tears.

I know that Christopher Reeve became a Unitarian towards the end of his life. He went on an inner journey following his accident and the open and free community helped him to do so. He was interviewed by “Readers Digest” not long before he died and he was asked why. He said "It gives me a moral compass. I often refer to Abe Lincoln, who said, 'When I do good, I feel good. When I do bad, I feel bad. And that is my religion.' I think we all have a little voice inside us that will guide us. It may be God, I don't know. But I think that if we shut out all the noise and clutter from our lives and listen to that voice, it will tell us the right thing to do."

As I watched this deeply moving film it obviously brought to my mind the “Hero’s Journey” that Joseph Campbell Identified. Chrsitopher Reeve and his family are a classic example of this. That said it spoke more powerfully to me of the work of Viktor Frankl. I thought this throughout and I felt it deeply as his son Will spoke of the decision he took after both of his parents had died. The choice was his to turn to meaningless despair or find meaning, to create something from this suffering and thus transform it into something meaningful. This the whole family has done. So many have benefited from this decision.

I also thought of Christopher Reeve’s inner journey. He was an athlete and a physical being. He enjoyed fame and fortune and all the trappings that go with it. He enjoyed all the pleasures that life has to offer. In the end he lost all of this, it was a chasing in the wind, to quote Ecclesiastes. He lost all that and had to go on an inner journey, into the spiritual realm. Again it brought to my mind the work of Viktor Frankl and what he described as “Religio” or the search for the “Unconscious God” and to bring this alive through our lives and thus create a life rich in meaning. I think it is clear that in so doing that Christopher Reeve truly found the hero inside himself. To repeat that quote of his:

“When the first Superman movie came out I was frequently asked, "What is a hero?" My answer was that a hero is someone who commits a courageous action without considering the consequences...

...Now my definition is completely different. I think a hero is an ordinary individual who finds strength to persevere and endure in spite of overwhelming obstacles.”

Christopher Reeve reminded me of a quadriplegic man, from Texas, named Jerry Long, who Viktor Frankl often spoke of in his later interviews. Jerry Long had read “Man’s Search for Meaning”, whilst recuperating from an accident that had left him paralysed. It did not kill his spirit though. He wrote to Frankl and they formed a lifelong friendship. Frankl described Jerry as "a living testimony to logotherapy lived and the defiant power of the human spirit".

Jerry gained his doctorate in psychotherapy and became a renowned public speaker throughout the world. In 1998 he wrote a contribution to a journal issue commemorating the recently deceased Viktor Frankl. Here is a passage from it.:

"Once, after speaking to a large audience, I was asked if I ever felt sad because I could no longer walk. I replied, "Professor Frankl can hardly see, I cannot walk at all, and many of you can hardly cope with life. What is crucial to remember is this - We don't need just our eyes, just our legs, or just our minds. All we need are the wings of our souls and together we can fly." - Jerry L. Long

This is what Viktor Frankl was trying to show the world, through Logotherapy. He was trying to help us see this.

Now you may well ask Who is this Viktor Frankl and what is Logotherapy.

Viktor Frankl was the founder of what has often been referred to as the “Third Viennese School of Psychotherapy” Freud founded the first which was based on the central role of the libido or pleasure principle in human psychology. Alfred Adler founded the second which emphasised the importance of the will to power and the significance of the superiority/inferiority complex in human behaviour. In contrast to these two schools Frankl’s psychology is based on the will to meaning which he saw as the primary motivating force in human life. He named it “Logotherapy” taken from the Greek term logos, which means “word”, “reason”, or “meaning”. Think of the opening words from John’s Gospel, “In the beginning was the word, and the word was with God, and the word was God.” The word here of course is “Logos”. There is an implication here that meaning has a transcendent origin.

Frankl saw a spiritual dimension beyond the biological and psychological. He saw the suppression of this as the root cause of our human malady. Therefore, the task of “Logotherapy” was “to remind patients of their unconscious religiousness” and to uncover the spiritual dimensions of their lives and enable them to recover the capacity to choose those values which give our lives worth and meaning.

Now this meaning is of course different for everyone, as Frankl said himself:

“For the meaning of life differs from man to man, from day to day and from hour to hour. What matters, therefore, is not the meaning of life in general but rather the specific meaning of a person’s life at a given moment.”

Frankl claimed that meaning is discovered through creative and worthwhile activities, by creating something beautiful or doing good – I believe that one of the greatest sadness’s of our age is the fact that the phrase “do-gooder” has become a term of mockery, that it is somehow seen as wrong and suspicious to do good - Meaning can be found through experiencing and sharing in the beauty of art or nature or through loving or ethical encounters with others. Now is the example of Christopher Reeve and his family, the embodiment of this.

Even in the most horrific and terrifyingly hopeless situations we still have the capacity to choose our attitude towards whatever circumstances we are faced with. It is our response to life’s events that shapes our souls. Remember Frankl developed his theory during the utter despair and horror of the Nazi death camps. As Frankl himself said “Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms – to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances.”

There are those that say that life has no meaning, that nothing matters in life. I was once one of these people. These days I see no truth in such statements. These days I see meaning in everything, even in the most painful moments in life. In fact, it has usually been through coming through these most painful moments that the greatest meaning has emerged. Not immediately always but eventually as I have been able to give back to others from the experience of the suffering I have experienced and or witnessed. These last few months have proven this once again. By the way Frankl is in no way suggesting that this justifies suffering, please do not misunderstand. Frankl is not suggesting any such thing. To quote Dorothee Soelle, “no heaven can rectify an Auswitz”. Frankl was very clear that is suffering can be stopped then it must, and that can be done to stop the suffering must be applied. What I have discovered and Frankl taught was that despite the suffering that by living openly meaning can emerge. Meaning can emerge from living by the way of the Lure of Divine Love. Such love draws us out of ourselves and meaning emerges as we live from love and our most painful experiences are transfigured into meaning and purpose. The suffering is still as real, but meaning begins to emerge as we are saved from the hell of despair.

We can find our meaning, by uncovering whatever it is that makes us feel alive. I have witnessed it again in the lives of ordinary people recent weeks. I have experienced it too. Spiritually speaking, my heart has felt close to bursting at times recently. Not without pain, of course not, but even in that suffering meaning has emerged and I have experienced utter joy and bliss.

The key is to find our meaning, whatever makes our soul sing and bring it life through your very human being, bring to life that which is within you and all life. I am not here to tell you what the meaning of life is. I would be cautious of anyone who suggests that they have all the answers to such questions. What I can tell you though is that meaning can and will emerge from you, all you have to do is bring it to life. In so doing not only will your life be meaning filled but you will inspire others to do the same. Just as Viktor Frankl has been doing for generations and the story of Christopher Reeve and his family have too.

Below is a video devotion based on the material in this "blogspot"

Every day you have less reason not to give yourself away

I will begin with something from my favourite farmer poet, the wonderful Wendell Berry. The following is often seen as a poem about death and dying but really it is about generosity the most living giving of all virtues.

Sabbaths – 1993, I

No, no, there is no going back.
Less and less you are
that possibility you were.
More and more you have become
those lives and deaths
that have belonged to you.
You have become a sort of grave
containing much that was
and is no more in time, beloved
then, now, and always.
And you have become a sort of tree
standing over a grave.
Now more than ever you can be
generous toward each day
that comes, young, to disappear
forever, and yet remain
unaging in the mind.
Every day you have less reason
not to give yourself away.

“Every day you have less reason not to give yourself away.”

How was your Christmas and New Year. I had a lovely, quiet and restful couple of days on Christmas and Boxing Day. It was just what I needed as I was very tired, exhausted actually. I had given so much of late and had to face some difficult challenges over the last few months. I had though come through it with faith and integrity. I feel strengthen by this. I have felt so deeply loved and supported too, this has meant so much. I have been truly comforted, held with assurance, from both visible and invisible hands. I have seen myself and I have seen the world through fresher eyes, this is never easy. I have given a lot too. I felt deeply, I see more clearly how I am a deeply sensitive soul. This is not always easy. I have though lived with integrity, and I feel a deeper sense of connection and aliveness as a result of this.

I caught up with family after some time alone and saw most of the people I wanted to see. I would have liked to have seen one or two friends, but that just wasn’t possible. There will be other times. I did hear from a dear old friend on New Year’s Eve. He has been close to death and I plan to see him in the New Year.

It was lovely being with people who have known me all my life, there was a deeper love. They have their own troubles and we shared a little about that. One or two made comments about my life in recent months. It was said to me, in a variety of ways, be careful not to give yourself away too much. I smiled at this. It was said from a place of love, but not one of true understanding One of things I have a greater understanding of these last few months is that I am who I am and it is vital for me to live life my way and not try to be something I am not. I smiled to myself at this loving concern, but I suspect I will be giving myself away quite a bit these next twelve months. I am what I am.

“Don’t give yourself away too much” I was smiling about this as I drove through the fog on the M62. I am not sure exactly how to do that. I am who I am. One thing I have noticed about myself these last few months has been a deeper acceptance of who I am and the world in which I live and breath. Doesn’t mean I give the way things are my approval, more that I have a deeper acceptance that his is how it is. Delusion about reality is of no use to anyone. It is vital to live with an awakened eye.

I’ve been thinking of Wendell Berry’s poem “Sabbath’s”, once again these last few days. It is a New Year poem I reckon. It is the end of the poem that really gets into the heart of me. “Every day you have less reason not to give yourself away.”

I have learnt that if you truly want to know yourself, this is how you do it. This is how you will find yourself, how to know love, how your very being gets transformed and you become who you truly are, by giving yourself away. By pouring your heart out, you fill it with love and your mind and spirit know peace. This is the purpose of the religious of life of living in true intimate spiritual community. You cannot experience this if you practise your spirituality in isolation, something I have felt more deeply of late.

Religion gets a very bad name these days and rightly so, as for too long it has been about control and dogma, but that is not really its purpose, not in it truest sense. It is about giving yourself away and in so doing you actually not only find yourself, but become who you truly are.

This brings to mind a favourite quotation on the purpose of true religion, by Karen Armstrong:

“Religion is not about accepting twenty impossible propositions before breakfast, but about doing things that change you. It is a moral aesthetic, an ethical alchemy. If you behave in a certain way, you will be transformed.” When we dare to move beyond the known patterns and perceptions of our lives, letting the alchemy of love, listening and justice do its work, then we will be more than changed. The base metals of our lives will be transformed into something precious and flourishing. This is the purpose of religion, and the meaning of a religious life: to be transformed.”

These thoughts were passing through my being as I reflected on the recent weeks of my life and the people I have shared this time with. I see so many gorgeous examples of this transformation in them. Just beautiful!

Again as Wendell Berry wrote “Every day you have less reason not to give yourself away.”

This is about living generously. My word I have witnessed a lot this in the ordinary people I share my life with. I’m not talking about on the big global scale, I’m talking about the communities that intersect my life. When I look at the big picture, on the news screens, what I see is selfishness and greed and yet when I look at the people around me, what I witness is people being generous, people giving themselves away. It fills my heart.

As Parker J Palmer has pointed out generosity does not require material abundance. When I look at the people I have been around in recent weeks, what I have witnessed is generosity of spirit, generosity of time and generosity of heart. I’ve witnessed it every time I’ve been to visit in hospital as I have looked at the people all around me. I have witnessed people giving their time, their support, their open hearted presence, their hope even in the suffering of their loved ones. These are our gifts of the self. This is how we bring that divine love alive. This is the alchemy that transforms life. This is the heart of true religion. This is gratitude in action, this is living with gratitude, this is abundance, extravagance, this is God incarnating in out ordinary human lives. Sadly too often we are afraid to do this. In fact we are told over and over again “Don’t give yourself away.”

Why?

What are we so afraid of?

No! Times is passing by, it is short “Everyday day you have less reason not to give yourself away.”

It’s that simply really and yet at times it seems so complicated. This is the transformative nature of the religious life, the free religious life at least. It comes alive, as we come alive when we give ourselves away.

It brings to my mind another favourite poem that came back into my heart in those days between Christmas and New year, “Accepting this “ by Mark Nepo

“Accepting this “ by Mark Nepo

Yes, it is true. I confess,
I have thought great thoughts,
and sung great songs—all of it
rehearsal for the majesty
of being held.

The dream is awakened
when thinking I love you
and life begins
when saying I love you
and joy moves like blood
when embracing others with love.

My efforts now turn
from trying to outrun suffering
to accepting love wherever
I can find it.

Stripped of causes and plans
and things to strive for,
I have discovered everything
I could need or ask for
is right here—
in flawed abundance.

We cannot eliminate hunger,
but we can feed each other.

We cannot eliminate loneliness,
but we can hold each other.

We cannot eliminate pain,
but we can live a life
of compassion.

Ultimately,
we are small living things

awakened in the stream,
not gods who carve out rivers.

Like human fish,
we’re asked to experience
meaning in the life that moves
through the gill of our heart.

There is nothing to do
and nowhere to go.
Accepting this,
we can do everything
and go anywhere.

There are so many beautiful paradoxes in this poem; paradoxes that speak to me of what it means to live spiritually alive; spiritually alive and in the company of others. I have witnessed and experienced so much of what it speaks of these last few weeks, this has filled my heart and humbled me. I have borne witness to how the spirit only comes alive in relation. That’s what the spiritual life is actually about you know, relationships. You cannot be a spiritual being, a living one at least in isolation. It only occurs truly in community, as messy as that can be. The more we give ourselves away, the more all will receive, that strange arithmetic of giving, that multiplies by subtraction.

I’m going to end today with a confession. I hope you can forgive me. Life is an utter mystery to me. It just doesn’t make sense. I know my own life doesn’t, well not completely. I don’t understand it, I just can’t make sense of it. I am at ease with this. The other day I felt so free as I was out in the park walking with Molly, just chatting with the folk I meet. My head as completely empty and my heart was full and I felt this incredible sense of belonging and well-being and pure love. I felt powerfully the presence of God and every person I looked at that day seemed to me to be made in that image.

All I do know is that every day I have less reason not to give myself away.

Maybe that is all I really need to know, maybe all I have to do is keep on remembering this and keep on giving myself away. The next time I forget, please remind me.

“Every day I have less reason not to give myself away.

Please find below a video devotion based on the material in this "blogspot"