“But My close friends, why, why don’t they call louder to Me from their heart’s depths? If only their belief were less like unbelief! If their hope were fixed upon My help . . . And if, in all simplicity, their love loved Me more. I should be there looking after everything in their day, and when night fell, their eyes would close again on My face.*

It is interesting for any writer I guess, to have someone read something that they wrote, while the reader is interpreting it in ways that are unintended.  I know that I do it with essays that I read from other writers, so I as well will often misunderstand their real intention.  I have also learned that when I read from another author, in some way, their writing becomes mine, for I take it in, ponder it, agree or disagree, and then place it aside.  All writing, like all speech, is a seed planted in the heart of the reader impacting the unconscious far deeper than understood by many.

When I write about grace, the love of God, and my own experiences with my struggles, failures, as well as profound healings, I can be attacked over what I have written.  Sometimes the input given me about something I posted is spot on, but often it is based on the readers having to read whatever I write from the store of their own experiences and beliefs. They misunderstand what my faith means to me. I know this to be true, because I do it, often unconsciously, when I read, or listen to someone else.

Sometimes I do wonder how strong my faith is.  However, I have learned that in trusting God, and taking the next step, I do experience a profound movement in my soul that comes from ‘without.’  Or should I say from something is more in-depth than my unconscious, that I sense a loving presence working with me, and for me, but in secret so to speak.  This presence cannot be explained but only experienced.

What does it mean to cry to God for help?  Well, I believe that what it entails is to embrace the ‘moment’, no matter how bad, and make a conscious choice to root myself in the reality of the Lord who dwells in the ‘Tabernacle of my Heart’.  I both fear, and so long for the love of God, and sometimes I do get a small taste, but only a small one.  It is all I can handle.

In this world, we are called, to love God with all my heart, and my neighbor as myself.  This requires a larger heart than I have. However, the human heart of Jesus Christ encompasses all of humanity without distinction. So slowly, I see that God’s loving touch is transforming my heart to my wounded, often skittish soul. So I love more deeply, hopefully, every day by allowing my heart, to be absorbed by the genuinely human heart of Jesus Christ.    The more I grow into this reality, the more I understand how unloving I can be.  When I fail to react or deal with a situation in a loving manner, I sense it more deeply. It does not lead me to despair, but a deeper trust in God’s love for me, which is one of the hardest parts of my faith to believe.

So I pray for my longing for God to deepen, but that can’t happen if my love for others does not.  I want my thirst for God to equal God’s desire for each of us.  That has a powerful effect on how I pray and what I pray for.  I do believe that Christians are here to show to the world the love of God, called ‘Agape.’ Without deep prayer, and loving trust in God, along with a profound understanding of our own need for mercy, that is probably impossible.  It is easier for me to judge others than to look into my own heart.

*Bossis, Gabrielle. He and I (Kindle Locations 2260-2262). Pauline Books and Media. Kindle Edition.