Pacem in Terris

Why are we afraid to be alone? After all, you're alone, when you're alone. No one else there. Nothing to fear. But maybe that in it's self is worth fearing. By ourselves, no one else's thoughts and we are left alone to face the fact that we ourselves are the ones to fear. The endless racing of thought after thought comes streaming in to our raging mind. What's not to fear? What will we find, when left with ourselves, with no "to do" list? No screaming kids? No other voices calling for our attention in the break of day. That is when we find ourselves for what we are, for who we are, and that is what makes us afraid.

That is what I found, sitting in my rocking chair, staring out the picture window of my little cottage hut. In the middle of the big woods, just me and the Lord. Though I have had nothing to do for weeks, anxiety has still come to attack me, and here, all alone, I find the anxiety is from me. The voices raging are all my own as I sit and contemplate over and over and over again the bane of my existence.

Then a sigh. Every word's been said. Every worry wrought. And a gentle whisper below the waves of my worry, so gently whispers in my ear, "You are mine." I hear the peaceful coo, but can barely believe it.

Maybe not an audible voice, but surely the sensation of an overwhelming peace has come over me, and what is this feeling? Serenity? "My Beloved."

Oh how long it's been since I've heard those words. I say in guest "It's been a long time since you called me that."

You reply, without guest "It's been a long times since you've been listening."

A melancholy phrase resonating with in my soul. Indeed, it has been a long time and this saddens me. How long had it been since I simply sat, without a worry or a "to do" list, but simply me? To sit in the quiet, my soul laid bare in the blessed assurance that I am Beloved. The identity that once was mine, still was mine, but some how muffled by my messy chaos. How could I forget the sweet promise of all I am? Yes here I am, admitting that this basic core has been buried alive and I don't know how long it's been since I've seen it. Suffocating, squelched, gasping for a breath of life which breeds truth and wholeness. It's been lost for so long and so have I as I forget it's existence. Wanting more. Striving for more. Begging to be more. When Beloved is the essential to anything that could come next. Praying, build me. Grow me stretch me. I'm ready to move on. Yet never realizing that my foundation is in the basics so from the basics I cannot go.

I am the Beloved. I am my Beloved's and he is mine. (Song of Solomon 6:3).

So here I sit. Basking in the truth. Peace that passes understanding all surrounding. I am Beloved.
Out of this basic truth, the life blood flows, for I know that nothing is accomplished without it.
How can I love my brother, my sister, that homeless child across the street, unless I have first been loved.
We love him, because she first loved us (1 John 4: 19)
Wasn't it even Jesus who it was said "This is my beloved son." Then he went out doing his miracles. Acts of love for the people. It was after, not before, because even the Son of Man had to be loved in order to love. Am I better than God?

So I will sit. Remembering my way. Finding myself in the one who gave himself all for me. I surrender my anxieties, one by one, and finally find I am light by the glory of the Son.