I have so many things running through my head... I am seeing all sorts of things, but it's just glimmers-- portions, fragments, slivers, half dreams. It's taking form but it's also blurry. It's all in the forefront, as when I wake from a dream, and it's dying for some expression. There's some mystery and some clarity and it's all just a face of it all. But an essence. I am not going to try to make sense here to any rational mind. I am appealing to something deeper. I will try to convey it in time, and as it shows itself to me. I can't package it all rationally and neatly right now.
How is the false mother really false, how do you know?
On how it treats it's wounded, not the wounded "out there" but all the bleeding and wounded inside of it. A"system" can never love people. It is a non-entity, a dead thing. It is people who love people that are the real thing, the body of Christ, and that is the only place where healing is found, in wiping one another's wounds, carefully, fearfully, passionately, oh so patiently, never abandoning, getting back up to the task again and again as long as we have breath. Never abandoning. Oh, the
wounds of abandonment out there. oh...
I am so tired of people who think they are not in any way wounded or broken. It is sad. I have been shot and wounded with the contempt of those who think they are so together, almost killed-- It's a lie.
Have I been part of those who do the shooting? No, not intentionally. But no, it is never intentional, is it? Then what is it but an evil lull of a sleep. And how is that any less wrong, when we can chose to be awake? God forgive me for any small part in this; I think it is a serious and despicable thing. To be awake is not for cowards. To love is not for cowards nor the selfish.
To love is truly a God thing, a battle, where you get really wounded and there is no denying that. It is a battle, where blood is lost and gained. A battle we will ultimately win. Love has won only as it is winning through us today, only as we stumble along with our lovely weapons. It will win; it will win; he has won. But we are Him and the battle still rages. Like they say, what does not kill you makes you stronger. Have you tasted death for Love? Keep on and pray that i do too. There is such a thing as lovely weapons in a certain realm. And they don't kill. No they don't. They may wound but not harm. So, you see, it's not so bad to be wounded. Jesus was wounded. He was wounded and still strong. He loves the wounded so much.
The song I wrote "Holding out" is somewhere along these lines
It's not about me or you alone, it's about all of us together... conquering evil together, never alone.... But if we are too sacred to get wounded and shot down then we are already losing ground and soul, losing humanity. We can and ought to encourage one another daily to love and good deeds. Tend to the wounded, so they can get back up and fight. We are in a war. We are in a serious war, let's not be deluded. The battle doesn't end in this life. There are times of rest and refreshment, but the war ensues.
I am but learning and I am thankful, even for some of the wounds, if not all. And I am forever His, part of his family. He will come for us, He will come-
("Sacred" on the paragraph before the last one was a typo for scared, but I kept it because it really fits)