March 2017 - Connections | Sharing Spiritual Ideas that heal

Loving your life

Very special!

A Christian Science Perspective -from The Christian Science Monitor

Lois Carlson.

MARCH 24, 2017 —During lunch one day, a woman at a table near me in the cafeteria went on a tirade about another person’s life. It’s hard to eat hot chicken noodle soup fast, so it was hard to avoid listening to the conversation. As I went back to the office, I couldn’t help feeling sad about the negativity I’d heard.

But that night I had tickets to “Mr. and Mrs. Pennyworth,” a play that was premièring at a local Chicago theater. As I watched, I glimpsed something that pointed me to an answer to my sadness.

Mr. and Mrs. Pennyworth are storytellers who have close friendships with fairy tale characters such as Little Red Riding Hood, The Three Pigs, and Jack, who even gave them one of his beans. It is an enchanting play: A tragedy has happened in the land of fairy tale, and the couple has the assignment of restoring order.

At the end of the play, Mrs. P turns to the audience and acknowledges that some of us may have had even worse things happen in our lives and perhaps wish we could rewrite our own stories. But, she suggests, if we can’t do that, we can find the courage to look at the stories of our lives with love. The key to restoring order in fairy tale land had been telling someone else’s story through the lens of love. That wise counsel engaged my heart.

The memory of the ugly words I’d heard in the cafeteria came to mind. It occurred to me that negatively judging someone else can be an echo of not feeling the beauty of our own lives. My sadness melted into a compassionate prayer that we can all love our lives in a way that helps us tell of others’ stories with love.

There are all kinds of things that might make us not love our own life stories: shame, a feeling of loss, missed opportunity, hardship and suffering, even abuse. Those heartaches can distort our view of the lives of others because we don’t see goodness prevailing.

But there is a spiritual basis for loving our lives: the fact that God is Life – in fact, the only Life we have to live. This does not mean this divine Life somehow tolerates evil or uses evil for good. It means that Life is Love itself, entirely good, and expresses us as its beloved spiritual offspring. This spiritual reality enables us to see ourselves as loved – even when we’re going through hard things.

As Christ Jesus showed throughout his healing ministry, recognizing that sin or cruelty does not have the power to disconnect us from God’s love helps heal heartaches and impels reformation. So when unhappy memories seem to overwhelm us, we can know that inharmony is never part of our true, spiritual identity, and we can humbly say, “Thank You, God, for always being with me.”

The promise of this prayer is that we will increasingly stop defining ourselves by the events of human history. Our identity as God’s loved creation remains intact. Even if we don’t see evidence of this at a given time, God’s love is the sustaining power of our lives, inspiring joy and peace.

There is a close and constant relation of God to God’s children, the very expressions of divine goodness. Our true spiritual nature is in harmony with God. We exist to express God, and the intimacy of our oneness with God stays intact no matter how severe the human experience we have suffered.

Monitor founder Mary Baker Eddy writes in the book she called “the Christian Science textbook”: “If we were to derive all our conceptions of man from what is seen between the cradle and the grave, happiness and goodness would have no abiding-place in man …” (“Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures,” p. 244). Earlier in the book she writes: “Life is, always has been, and ever will be independent of matter; for Life is God, and man is the idea of God, not formed materially but spiritually, and not subject to decay and dust” (p. 200).

The ups and downs of our experiences do not have to undermine our conviction of the goodness of God’s blessing on our lives. In fact, they may turn us to a deeper understanding of our spiritual identity as beloved. On this basis, loving our life is natural.

The Lord is still our Shepherd

From Jan.

I thought I would send along what we put together for Sunday School. The students and I put the 23rd Psalm into our own words. The Psalm is first, and then my inspiration is in italics.

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall no want.

The Lord God takes care of me no matter what.
All of my needs are met.

He maketh me to lie down in green pastures; he leadeth me beside the still waters.

He prepares lovely places for me. He leads me right to them and I can rest and be happy there.

He restoreth my soul; he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.

He restores my heart, my soul, my life (there is no loss). He leads me in the path of virtue, morality, justice, decency, uprightness, honesty, blamelessness – because He made me just like Him.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.

Even if I walk THROUGH (right past) the sense of death, I won’t be afraid; because God is right there with me (always, ever-present). God will guide and guard me – He constantly takes care of me – He comforts me.

Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies; thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.

God prepares food and drink and cares for all my needs, even when sometimes it seems my enemies have the upper hand – right then God is caring for me. God has anointed me as His precious child. I am so loved and cherished by God. God gives me so much good that there is so much more than I can ever need or use (abundant supply)..

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life; and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

God’s great goodness and kindness and mercy (understanding, generosity, love) will follow me (be always with me) all the days of my life. And I live in God’s house forever!

Love the unfoldment

From Cindy.
Do we expect a particular outcome or are we finding that moving in the right direction is enough? An acquaintance posed that question to me the other day, and I had to stop and think about it. At first I saw nothing wrong with expecting a positive outcome, a finished product. I expect a healing when something presents itself to me.

Then, as I thought more about the question, I began to see the depth to it. If I work and work to get the expected outcome, then I am missing the journey, the sweet step by step growth Spiritward. I reasoned that I didn’t start kindergarten on day one and expect to be fully graduated that day. Now, I am not saying we are not perfect right now as children of the Perfect ONE. But I am saying that our demonstration of that perfection is an unfoldment of good and right ideas. As Mary Baker Eddy states, “Advancing spiritual steps in the teeming universe of Mind lead on to spiritual spheres and exalted beings. Science and Health, p 513.

If I am continually looking for what I expect to be the outcome, I may miss the shift in consciousness, the unfoldment of divine ideas. What I think should be the outcome, may be more a form of outlining than an unfolding and listening to God’s direction. The turning to God, Spirit, leads to the perfect unfoldment.

I love learning from working with horses. For instance, when trying to execute a sidepass (where the horse crosses its feet in the process of stepping sideways) on my horse, I knew I wanted a series of cross steps to the fence. My attempts were stiff and lackluster. I couldn’t seem to communicate correctly. I knew my mare knew how to step sideways, but my horse didn’t understand me. We were getting frustrated. I was focused on the outcome instead of the step by step unfoldment.

Then the thought came to just break down the communication to one small movement at a time. I asked her to tip her nose and recognized/praised her try. I hadn’t noticed her try before! It was there. I shifted slightly and touched her gently with my leg, and she moved sideways. Just a shift and the rest of the movement opened up. We sidepassed easily after that. And all it took was the smallest signal to free us to make the whole movement.

What a lesson that has been! Am I wrapped up in what I think should be, or, am I grateful for the try, the shift in the right direction? When working towards healing, do I recognize the shift, the small opening of consciousness to the Truth? Am I grateful for the try?

Or, am I holding to a specific method/way of things working out? And, perhaps not seeing it? Maybe I need to find another truth to use, or a better article to read, or call the practitioner again? If I’m wandering around (or maybe even wallowing) looking for things outside instead of SEEING the Truth unfolding right there, then I’m not accomplishing the true healing, the recognition of the unfolding opening to the perfect idea.

This concept goes right along with Elisha’s lesson to the widow woman in debt (see II Kings 4:2). He asked her what she had in her house and turned her thought from focusing on what was sure to be the outcome of her sons becoming servants. What was in her house, or consciousness, that was of value, that was the truth? She recognized Elisha as a man of God….that was a start. She shifted then. She shut the door on her old expectations and fears, and saw the man of God as intelligent. She obeyed his commands turned her focus away from the outcome she feared, lost her frustration and anger, and was humbly obedient in finding vessels for her oil. Then she poured out. As she found one thing for which to be grateful, more and more good became evident until she understood that was her substance. Then she was able to sell that substance, or make it real in thought. A shift, a break, in the mesmeric pull of a physical outcome, made the recognition of good unfoldment evident. Her family’s needs were amply met.

After a protracted divorce, my sense of family relations was not where I thought it should be I expected to see family members equally, to be a part of lifestyles and to be visited often. When those expectations were not met, I felt hurt and angry. Didn’t I deserve this?

An alert dear friend told me to “Love what I was doing” which meant to me to love the process of learning more about the family of God and my brothers and sisters everywhere. A shift in thought happened. I found a little oil, a little bit for which to be grateful. I found Love was all around me at work, at the place I volunteer, at church, in the neighborhood, in the stores, on the roads, in the beauty of a birdsong, the glint of the sunshine through a drop of dew, the reflection of the mountains on the lake, the wave of a stranger, the soft cuddle of a cat, the play of a dog, the nuzzle of a horse and so much more.

Being focused on what I thought should be happening, the assumed outcome, I missed the present abundance of good. And that shift in consciousness opened a new world to me. And it is still opening, unfolding, and will continue forever.

We all need to keep shifting and loving what we are doing.

As Mary Baker Eddy says,”The new birth is not the work of a moment. It begins with moments, and goes on with years; moments of surrender to God, of childlike trust and joyful adoption of good; moments of self-abnegation, self-consecration, heaven-born hope, and spiritual love.

“Time may commence, but it cannot complete, the new birth: eternity does this; for progress is the law of infinity.” Miscellaneous Writing, p 15.

I am the place….still today

So Simple . . . How far reaching are our prayers

By Jane Bartlett Walter

In a large city in Alabama in 1945, some of us “war widows” set up a canteen for officers in one of the city’s hotels. One afternoon a General came in for coffee, music, and perhaps a game of bridge. He was a big man — tall, greying, and full of confidence. The younger officers seemed to gravitate to him, as if drawn by a magnet, for his strength was most compelling.

After a while they drifted off to dance and I got a chance to speak with him. He had a wonderfully direct way of looking at you, an easy sense of humor, and a contagious chuckle. We discussed war, with all its horrors, its rigid discipline, and so on, and I asked him how he had come through it all and still kept his humor and wits about him. Almost shyly he took out a well-worn slip of paper from his uniform pocket and handed it to me. “This,” he said, “has pulled me through quite a few seemingly insurmountable problems.” I read the little poem — almost a prayer — and then reread it. This huge man, leader of many men, lived in war and in peace by these simple words:

I am the place where God shines through,
For He and I are one, not two.
He wants me where, and as I am,
I need not fret, nor fear, nor plan.
If I will be relaxed and free
He’ll carry out his work through me.

Now I could understand his clear, direct gaze, his confident bearing, and the magnetism the junior officers felt when he entered. I never saw the General again, but had I been fighting in a war I should have liked to have had him as my commanding officer.