Wednesday, March 28, 2007

Dearest God,

When the horrors of life o'er take you, how far can you expect to rise up when the light finally penetrates the seal, cracking it, the darkness escaping, the warmth of the light invading? To the highest heights? Is it possible to crawl out of the darkness into the light forevermore?

In counselling I hear some of life's greatest tragedies. I ask you, "How can people empty themselves of such pain, hatred, bitterness, loss, sorrow?" With what do you replace this gunk from the past? Can we ever be truly free? Will the images pass away completely?

I don't regard myself as a counselor. I do counseling, but I think I do it differently. From the moment a person steps foot into my study, I recognize they are often treading water, ready to drown. I can "see" the darkness.

I believe the ground upon which my office stands is holy ground. This is not a counseling session, I tell myself, this is holy ground. This person has come here because they're looking for holy ground, not an answer. My responsibility is not to "cure" someone but to introduce them to One who stands ready to take hold of them, to walk with them, to embrace them at the deepest level of light.

I try to be light until the True Light enters. I can only offer a safe, holy environment until the individual discovers this Holy Light, who steps inside an injured, wounded soul. And when it happens, oh my God in heaven, something magnificent takes place. First, in the eyes, the wide-eyed realization of Truth that comes, soothing the soul. Second, the breath of labor eases, for giving birth to a new reality is hard work. Third, the love that laps up the soul is the love of God, the loneliness no longer having a hold. And finally a peace enters the room because it is what God who loves us brings as a sign of his coming.

I have witnessed the dispelling of darkness. I have seen the powerful Light shine. I have observed with my own eyes a lightening of the burden. I have known God's presence to enter the weary soul.

But I still come back to you, how high can you rise? And is it possible to rise at a speed that transforms everything around you? Is it possible to remain in the light of day, ridding one's self of darkness forever?

I know the sweetness of God. Like a perfume it scents the ugly smell of the past. God's own heavenly aroma overtakes the stench of yesterday, changing it to a kind of distinct beauty unique to the one broken soul made whole. There is a rising, a physical rising of the soul to a new height of love, forgiveness, grace, mercy, hope. This is the work of God.

Can it be contained, this newfound relief? No box is big enough. God refuses to be restrained, restricted, limited. This is the Light that when squeezed on one side will grow bigger on the other side. It is a pervasive mass that keeps spreading, little by little, coloring the ugliness all around. Redemption, this is redemption. God has redeemed God's very own. Every soul has an entry into this redemption, no matter the horror.

New life comes, making sense of the old. Saying goodbye to the past is difficult, often filled with grief and despair, yet hope drives it away in time, making space for the new to live permanently.

You have come
as the Light.
You have talked the darkness down.
You have inspired
the soul to transformation.
You have anointed with hope,
allowing the dark pieces
to leave with grace.
You show us the way,
a gentle rising with Holy light.
The angels sing,
rocking the darkness turned to light,
the songs of faith and joy.
Heights unknown,
rising.

Eternally yours, Andrea