No matter my age, I will look with wonder at the world and trust that I have someone looking out for me who is bigger and wiser than I am.
The world is full of aggressive tactics that will put you in the spot light and make you famous.
You have a message you think is worth sharing?
Splash it everywhere! Hang up your shingle! Declare yourself an expert and make millions, all while sipping a cold drink with a piece of fruit and an umbrella in it on the beach!
Some of us will tell our tale in quiet moments.
Gingerly, because along with the ability to have a voice comes the other side that can cut you down.
It will say that you have done less than you should have, or that you are pompous and “full of yourself” to think you have answers to questions that humanity has not been able to resolve for millions of years.
The crazy lady they called a witch, the one who everyone goes to see secretly, but would never let on they believe in her.
She sits in a nursing home today.
Surrounded by others, lost in their own thoughts and unable to find a way to be heard.
Before I reach that stage I want to speak.
I want to share what I have learned from a lifetime of searching and praying, reading and observing, trusting that there are answers to the meaning of life that have evaded us, due to the distractions that quickly take over the mental constructs of the human psyche.
Without the training or desire to jump through hoops that allow one to be noticed in the world of the educated or the popular, I speak as a child.
A child who knows that there are no answers in the world.
A child who knows that her big brother has stood by her, and guided her experiences, and education, so that as she grew in her willingness to share his message, she would be able to hear it, without the distractions of the world.
Without the need to keep her thoughts to herself to allow her posterity to continue to function in a society that seeks to find a way to be comfortable in the contradictions, isolations, and disparities that are found among the children of men.
A child who had a chance to observe all that world had to offer without becoming a melded part of the pot in the society wherein she dwelled.
Baby steps, because fear stands as the supreme god of the mortal being.
Baby steps, because while angels stand to protect her, her emotional load is something that she, must willingly give to the Holy Spirit to carry, and not beat herself up when she fails to escape the flood of hopelessness that she simply has to allow, to wash over her, when she cannot help another in the moment.
A child having children. What an interesting phenomenon.
We call them adults, those who have children, but is that anything near the truth?
Oh, we build up structures and communities and say that we must be mature, because others say so.
But are we really?
Or are we only children; pretending we have an idea of what is right or wrong, or why and how to handle the issues that come at us in life?
Thankfully, we die off and another takes our place.
But do they have new answers to the old problems of managing the worlds resources, education, and pursuit of happiness?
Or do they run in a tangent, with the archaic or in opposition, falling for the ideas of wolves in sheep’s clothing, and giving up freedom to have a forced sense of safety?
Jesus told us he came to give us a new world.
He lives and breathes with us and beside us, seeking our attention so that he can show us the way out of our dilemma.
We have complicated his instruction and left ourselves without assistance, as we have considered ourselves capable of meandering through what we believe is life.
So much of what is, is unseen.
Yet we cling to what we see, as if we could hold onto it tight enough, we would not fade away.
And yet we do. Each generation forced to exit, as we came, naked and blind.
Baby steps, walk with caution.
Holy Spirit guides me.
Jesus, as my conscience, allows me to pause just long enough to catch my breath, and then encourages me forward.
To share what I know, and forgive the original error of the thought of Separation, that keeps us from being nourished in the divine way only a truly loving parent could do.
Baby steps, one step at a time.