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When faced with a question, my immediate impulse is to find a book about it. No problem cannot be overcome with sufficient research, right? I've managed to think my way through a lot of things, but unfortunately my brain is only part of me, and throwing books into a tornado just makes it messier rather than making it go away.

The formal spiritual education of my childhood was very mind based. Lots of theory, lots of self reflection, lots of emphasis on time alone with God. As an adult, I experienced moments of epiphany, but struggled to string them together. Finally left alone for a few months several years ago, God firmly sat me down and began to unpack my mental boxes. (I realize that may sound bizarre, but I have no other way to describe what happened). For several hours each evening, beginning with the most recent and working our way back, we looked at key memories together. I felt a lot of shame and failure at each initial unpacking, and every time I was met with a reframing. This was not your fault. You did nothing wrong. This had nothing to do with you. I was relieved and wrung out at the same time. Finally all that remained was a nice big bay window, which had previously been obscured by the pile of boxes, sunlight streaming through it to illuminate the word beautiful now visible on the swept floor.

But study with a goal of self-improvement was still my default setting. I didn't know where I was going, only that I wasn't there yet. Progress was slow. But pandemic lockdown accelerated it. Stuck inside my own head with no distractions, I faced the storm inside and asked it to explain itself, instead of me trying to explain it away - and it did. It swept me up, whirled me around, and only recently set me gently down, evaporating into a morning fog that lifted to reveal calm winds and a glorious sunrise.

I'm back in that empty attic, and this time I've brought a cushion for the window seat, and nothing else. I look at the word on the floor, and I'm reminded of the lyrics of a Sara Groves song. I want to add to the beauty, to tell a better story, to shine with a light that's burning up inside. I will add to the beauty - I will not take away, or destroy. And this, for me, is love; it is the reflection of Great Love visible in my mirror-splinter self.

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