It’s still an uncomfortable waiting time in the U.S. as we all ponder who will reach 270 electoral votes first to become the next president.
It can be hard to wait. It’s not pleasant–this sense of not knowing.
I keep checking the news, probably too much.
How is everyone else coping?
This morning I am thinking about this seventy-five day commitment to get closer to God, the Holy Heart, Love with a capital “L”, Spirit or whatever name you use to describe our relationship with what’s bigger than our human egos.
Suddenly I am confused. What does this mean, anyway? What am I supposed to be doing? How in the world do you keep moving closer to the Holy?
What IS the Holy, anyway?
Is waiting for election results holy?
Is studying coronavirus stats sacred?
Is celebrating that our son and his wife just bought their first home holy?
What is the fine line between what’s Holy and what’s mundane?
My off-the-cuff answer at 7:12 on a waiting Friday is this: It feels like the Holy is a sacred awareness of a larger love that encompasses everything. An awareness that surrounds the everyday with the glow of sacred awareness. (I am starting to garble on, but you try describing it at 7:12 on a waiting Friday. It’s hard.)
I do not look at the Holy as a judging God in the sky. Or a kind old man bestowing favors. Or even as a deity who will grant our every wish if we pray hard enough.
It feels more like a relationship. A way of seeing. A recognition of human and divine. A turning–again and again and again–toward love and compassion and something larger than election results, coronavirus stats and the joys and sorrows of life. This turning toward something larger does not minimize the actual ordinary everyday world. It enhances it. It makes the everyday shine and glow. It’s very tender. It surrounds the hurting with care. It embraces the underprivileged, the poor, the sad, the grieving, the losses, the cuts, the injustices, the horrors. It says, “there, there” and it never stops loving, ever.
It’s what sings louder than the constructions of our minds. It dances more beautifully than our beliefs and opinions. It doesn’t fear death. Neither does it fear life. It whirls, it spirals, it continues opening us up to the Holy Heart.
OK, I’m not sure I said anything concrete here, but it feels like it’s touching the edges of what I’m trying to say.
Please feel free to share your own thoughts about this in the comments.
I am going to work training an employee at the school (from home, on the computer) in less than an hour. Then going for a brisk walk on a beautiful warm autumn day with a friend. Later–more raking of holy leaves. Blessings to all!
Day 20 of a seventy-five day journey to connect more deeply with God, Spirit, Holy, Love…to explore “What the Heart Knows” during the waning days of 2020.