Could It Be Love?

Chapter Nine: Could It Be Love?

Funny that I should be led to the page of The Alchemy of Fear on Valentine's Day.  For whatever reason, I was.  A bit of a goose chase as it was, starting with my dream work from last night. When I translated the symbology, the message was clear. The quote at the front of this chapter captured it in English words:

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us...We were born to manifest the glory of God within us...And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others."

The words are those of Marianne Williamson, but many people believe them to be from the late South African President Nelson Mandela because he quoted Williamson's words in his 1994 inaugural speech.

These are the words to which my dream led me this morning.  Without great detail, the images in my dream were of my power--great power--surrounding me on all sides, and I sat in sheer terror. Frozen. Afraid of my "power beyond measure." Afraid to let my light shine. But, the power was moving in on me, getting closer and closer, and as it did, the power seemed to increase.  And as it did, so did my fear.  Small wonder that I recalled this passage.

Only when I returned to the volume this evening to get the exact quotation did I realize that this--these haunting words--headed a chapter entitled "Could it be love?"

It has been said that we teach what we need to learn, and we write what we need to know.  Could it be that in this book, written 21 years ago--reaching the age of maturity, I was exploring the same spiritual questions that I am even today? Actually, it has been longer. As I am writing this, I recall a similar dream, recurring when I was younger.  Perhaps I've been working on this lesson my whole life.

On the second page of the chapter, I wrote, "The love...is an unconditional, universal love that spiritually connects us all through time and space. Time as we know it stops. A deep resonate peaceful energy seems to flow through us when we feel this kind of love. It is peaceful. It is joyful. It brings us to life with enthusiasm. We discover faith and trust."

The premise of the chapter is that there is only love and fear, and when we move beyond fear Universal love is what remains.  "Love is what life is about...Our purpose in life and work is to be love and bring more love into being."

My dream seemed to be saying, "Step into God's love and claim your power," and by so doing, make it safe for others to let their lights shine.  Before I can do that, though, I must look my fear in the eyes and move beyond into the "deep resonate peaceful energy" that "seems to flow through us." Apparently, I've been trying to do this for decades. I believe it is time for me to get over it.

Given the size of the power in my dream, the Universe is showing me that I can no longer run from it. My power will have its way with me, and I've fought the Universe on other things: it doesn't end well. The real power is in the surrender.  Surrender to God. Surrender to Love. I really know not what that means, but if I've been trying to learn this lesson most of my life, I would say it is time to hang on and find out.

Three Pennies...and God

Our pastor told a story this week about Mother Teresa.  In the story, her younger self had a dream about starting an orphanage with three pennies.  Upon waking, she was so moved by the dream that she went to her Mother Superior and told her that she wanted to start an orphanage with three pennies.

The Mother Superior was incredulous. "You can't start an orphanage with three pennies. You can't do anything with three pennies."

Mother Teresa is supposed to have responded, "Oh, I know I can't, but with three pennies and God I can do anything."

It has been happening for so many years that I am not sure why I continue to be surprised when similar messages come to me from several directions at the same time--the same spiritual lesson that I am supposed to learn at that point in time.  The Mother Teresa story was on the heels of some reading I was doing just before I went to bed the night before.

A couple months ago I wrote about my quest to complete my reading of several books on my nightstand before starting any new ones.  With the fast approach of summer-reading season, the pressure is on.  I finished two last week, and I am nearing the end of Marianne Williamson's A Return to Love.  The book has probably been on my night stand longer than any others, perhaps two to three years.  I am not sure why I struggle with it.  Perhaps it is the writing style because I resonate with the messages, and every time I pick it up what I read is a meaningful reminder. Maybe I just need to pick it up periodically for a message.

In last night's reading, Williamson quoted A Course on Miracles, "If you are trusting in your own strength, you have every reason to be apprehensive, anxious, and fearful."  Then, she writes, "...none of us have the capacity to work miracles, with the power that is in us but not of us, however, there is nothing we cannot do." (P.188) Hmm!  Remarkably like starting an orphanage on three pennies and God.

Clearly, there is a miracle that I should be thinking about delivering with God's help.  However, since my business crumbled so painfully in the dot.com Bust, bringing my personal life down with it, I have not allowed myself to dream of making miracles happen.  I haven't made a conscious decision not to dream.  The ideas that used to flow almost continuously just haven't been coming.  My hope-generator seems to be semi-permanently stuck on "off."  Quite frankly, I don't know how to flip its switches back to "on."  What comes to me is that is the miracle for which I should be enlisting God's help.