When the Soul Opens & Grace Enters

I’m immersed in soul work at this moment filling me with wonder, courage, knowledge, joy, and humility. It’s not a small thing to journey through a dry season or a dark night and suddenly begin to taste truth flowing from something new beyond reason, perhaps only accessible as the old falls apart at the end of our ego’s resources. Oh, the grace…finding us just where we are.

Soul Work, Amazing Grace & Immunity

It is probably too soon to write about any of this new discovery and wonder. That won’t stop me. It’s fresh, and I am in a place of heartfulness, not mindfulness.

When change is coming and it’s fresh, it is tricky to find the right language to speak of such precious territory. Holy language is required. Sometimes it flows from my lips, and most of the time it is buried underneath needless worry, superficial chatter, and self-centered bitterness.

Holy language waits in my soul to be spoken and can only bring healing. Can only heal! In the absence of cure. In spite of assorted circumstances and global uncertainty. It breathes in the space I resist returning to because I would rather stay in the land of the imagination and intellect.

I hold places of woundedness with such reverence and apt attention that I miss all of the soothing comfort from healing waters of Grace. There it is, flowing and available to baptize and bless!

So this is where I’m at. The work is getting over myself. The work has always been getting over myself.

My father is the holiest human I know on this earth, and this is the invitation he has offered me for as long as I can remember. He’s a holy man of God who got over himself at a very young age and chose a life of gentle forgiveness, integrity, and mercy for his fellowman.

Like Jesus, he is comfortable in the presence of all types of people from every walk of life. He knows how to interface in an impersonal way where he easily maintains the field of Grace surrounding him.

My father doesn’t become offended. Doesn’t shrink, isn’t reactive to judgment or bitterness. But I do, I am, and so this is my work.

The work has involved chapters of self-awareness and self-knowledge, and perhaps they belong. I don’t know much of anything so I’m not sure. But maybe they prepared me for more deepening, and now the work of healing involves soul school.

Soul searching and spiritual maturity. I can only embark on such work with help from angels and Grace. Left to my own devices, I will always shy away from it with fear about the cost. With fear of the uncertainty ahead. It is why spiritual transformation is so rare…it is hard to change when such expansive territories within us do not want to change.

The work I’m doing uncovers all sorts of ways I betray the soul daily. I fall out of my integrity in spite of my soul’s intense longing for integration. I repeat unhealthy patterns and move further away from my soul so that I can’t hear its wisdom.

A part of me simply does not want to be responsible, wants to stay childish. This is a betrayal. This is not the path to healing. So I am opening up to the new. Opening to see the ways I keep lies alive.

I am noticing my knee-jerk reactions and tendency to soothe myself with old narratives anchoring me to old consciousness. There’s no fruit for me there. I remember reading Barbara Brown Taylor’s Learning to Walk in the Dark years ago and not getting it at all.

It was like a foreign language, and I’m horrible at foreign language. I was perplexed by its mystery because I wasn’t ready to be exposed to my own darkness let alone travel through it willingly.

In the past couple of years as my illness worsened, my response has been some variation of I just need tools of transformation that will expand my capacity to cope with this sh$t and release anger. Ya know? And I think I understood such capacity would demand a fair amount of excavation. But what sort of excavation?

Sometimes this gets answered by doing it the wrong way…well, it’s not THIS, not THIS. So right where I am, I am learning new ways to discern, to walk in the dark, to attend to fractures in the soul, to suit up for survival, to see life as a trustworthy journey, to finally trust myself and embrace the power that is mine.

I hope this is coherent as I sit here in the desert with my eyes closed and allow my fingers to type words. I hope somehow loving kindness emerges in the white space between the words so you will sense I am just like you and am with you on your unique journey.

I am not special at all, and I can’t tell you the elation I feel when I proclaim that truth. I am not special yet I have a profound responsibility to my soul and the collective soul. Pray for me. Pray for me!

Pray that wondrous Grace would be mine. That further wisdom will come. That not my will, but Thine would be done.

Peace to you right where you are.

-michele

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