…is the audience of one inside you that has seen every single detail of your life.
What would happen if you went a whole day and take nothing that happens to you personally?
Ava Sue swallowed a wood chip. It flew into her mouth when she did a cartwheel. She had a very dry cough the rest of the day.
loving is asking a generous question, and caring about the answer…
I find it strange that the words, “I didn’t do it”, usually means, “Yes, I absolutely did that, but I can’t emotionally afford you knowing the truth.”
How much more freedom there is in saving that phrase for the moments you actually didn’t do something; not as a defense, but as a recognition of fault.
“No, you’re right, I didn’t do that,” then to concede this shortfall to Love’s healing.
“God saw all that he had made, and it was very good. ”
For an artist to admit that his finished work is, “very good”, it must be very good indeed, for an artist is more critical on his work than any other. You are a product of that Divine, “very good”, so why did you start believing that you are scum? Your Father never told you that you are scum. You received that message from someone else. Your last judgment is not one to fear, but, like the prodigal son, it is a judgment of restoration, remembrance, peace, and welcome. Home.
That God breaks us is certainly true. He breaks us like a glow stick. Through our brokeness, we glow!
Father! Restore me to be the man you have always known me to be.
Nothing is broken if you change its function.
To play is not juvenile, it’s divine, it’s innocence, it’s joy bubbling up to the surface of our being, bursting into its contrast like an effervescent bead. We shame play as we gain citizenship in the “real world”. “It’s childish, stop that, we don’t behave like that” spews the inner critic. Why in Heavens name not?