Vying with My Sister for Our Father's Love ...

Love Letter #2--A Response

“He went higher and higher and higher and high…”

–From Badí by Grant Hindin Miller in Songs for the Martyrs CD-

Part 1

Just look at you now…

Does this mean you will accept all future

appointments from the Concourse on High?

Just you try. Just you try —

While waiting to hear His voice

I, too, experienced the fog,

Playing at this materialistic game

Wasting my Father’s time, my own

And I heard him whisper

            as I boarded the plane

                        “My claim on thee is great, it can not be forgotten.”

What is this claim

that hangs in my mind

giving me reason to pause

For isn’t this life

my own, and did not You say

                        free will is king, is king?

The older I grow, the more I know

            my independence is framed

                        only by His Remembrance

Without that dominance

            There is no “beach” in my life

                        And my back is always to the water.

And what is that rush

            the sound almost like a tidal wave

as suddenly I realize that

                                    though I cannot swim

                                                there is no need to run

For it is only my Father come to collect

            what he left

                        come to prune this flower in His Garden

                                    to ready it for movement to higher ground.

That I belong to Him,

    Have always been His

            Is no longer in dispute

                        For He is closer to me than my jugular vein.

“Surely in remembrance of Him all hearts are comforted…

comes the refrain

                           as my mind slips back and

             I hear the Master saying

                                            “The Temple is already built...”

as he laid the cornerstone           

                                            for the Mother Temple of the West

My work on this plane, placed squarely

in my breast at the moment of conception

(And I curse my faith—at the almost half century waste.

                  Why has it taken so long for me to embrace my fate?)

Part Two

            And the letter you wrote to Him –

Just for the record, Debbie Joon,

            We have always known your brilliance          

                        And the only offense has been your

                                  Seeming unawareness of it     

                                       Your reluctance to acknowledge this

                                                                strategically placed Gift.

And yes seeking peace outside of        

            The knowledge of self is as fruitless

                        As pursuing happiness outside

                                    The parameters of obedience to His decree.

Enlightenment now within our reach

            As we submit to our longing             

                        To be free, a desire finally consummated

                                    In our twin duties as believers—that of

Recognition of the Divine Manifestation   

            For this day and

                        Complete obedience to His Laws,

                                                                        His way.

It is now June, and in May I watched

            My niece and nephew walk across the same stage

                        Both eager to grab the diploma and           

                                    Ready to enter the University to earn     

                                                A more “advanced” degree

And now I am blessed to receive your letter,

            A discourse on how to embrace your

                        Life’s calling, a calling so subtle

                                    Yet so intense, sweet

And when you realize that if you are not

            Careful, that gift shall be taken away                  

                        And granted to those   

                                    Who move, not when they hear His words,

                                              But at the mere scent of His garment 

                                                       As His fragrance precedes

                                                               His approach to their door…

My prayer is that you will not forget your words, or

            How easy it is to serve once the 

                        Surrender takes place

                                    Which allows God’s brilliance

                                           To be manifested in you, not just once, but

                                               throughout all eternity’s morning’s dew.

So let us vie for our Father’s love

            As each letter you write

                        In remembrance of Him

                                    Becomes multiplied by two.

My promise is this—

            When you praise Him openly

                        I will praise Him too

That others might sense, feel, know our love

            That they might grasp that handmaidens,

                        Like saints, are not born but          

                                    Molded whole by acts of

Sacrifice, commitment, faith and love

     And even more by the courage

          to overcome the “natural inertia”

                        that weighs us down.

When the most important work comes

            We let go the important one...

              When the birds wake us with their song

                          We realize all His creatures are in tune        

                                    With his requirements

            And we thank Him for removing the    

                   Veils obstructing our own ability to see.

As I await your next letter

            And a summons to duplicate His Praise ---

I remain in His Service,

Your Best Friend in the whole of the

Auston Grove Subdivision                                     

Lo
 

P.S. Did I mention to you, Deb, that

"His fragrant breaths diffused in Eastern lands could well
 to sick ones in the West restore their sense of smell..."
From Gems of Divine Mysteries