Remember thy Self to keep holy

“You was blind to Him as your footprints in the ashes, but He saw you.

Beneath every disguise; in every gesture false or true; every silent resentment – He saw you in those dark corners. He heard you. Oh my brothers, He heard those thoughts.

Now, I am here today to talk to you about reality. I’m here to tell you about what you already know.

This, all, — this, is not real. It is merely the limitation of our senses which are meager devices. Your angers, and your griefs and your separations, are a fevered hallucination, one suffered by us all, we prisoners of light and matter…

Our faces pressed to the bars, lookin’ out, lookin up, askin’ the question, beggin’ the question — “Are YOU there?” Would that we had ears to hear – because every moment, every now — is an answer; every beat of every heart, every second of every minute, every minute of every hour, every hour of every day — is an answer.

And the ANSWER is: “Yes. Yes. Yes.”

Your sorrows pin you to this place; they divide you from what your heart knows…

And we bandage our soft selves in hardness and anger.

You are a stranger to yourself, and yet He knows you… And when your hard heart made you like unto the stone and broke you from His Body — which is the stars and the wind between the stars — He knew you. He knew you – yet and forever. How could the Father forget His children; how could the world forget itself?

Doesn’t matter that the children do not understand what they are. Doesn’t matter that the world thinks that it’s many different things — rather than One – HIM. Doesn’t matter.

My sad and joyous, and frightened and courageous brothers and sisters,

I want you to close your eyes and let your chest swell as His lungs; I want you to feel His Portion in us – in each other.

Every single one of you, I want you to listen for that answer:

If ever your sorrow becomes such a burden that you forget yourself – forget this world, I want you to remember this truth, this is as indelible as the sun in the sky and the ground beneath your feet:

This world is a veil, and the face you wear is not your own.

The shape of our true face is not YET known to us.

And so I press my eyes to the bars, and I look out, and I look up — and I ask the question, no! I BEG the question: Jesus Christ! Jesus Christ! – Your arms open and close, and the echoes of my life could never contain a single truth about You. You move the feather and ash, You touch the leaf with His flame, You linked Your soul to an Infinity of atomic creation, and of It – I am less than a drop in the ocean. How then can I know sorrow, how then, can I know despair? – Does the rain know sorrow, does the grass and the mountains, those beautiful mountains, know despair?

Such is not His Province, and so not be our purpose.

Be in Him, of Him, and then KNOW peace; that is His gift to us — our birthright.

In the End, we will find ourselves at the Beginning. We will at last KNOW ourselves; and our True Faces will weep in His Light – and those tears will feel like a warm rain.


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