Dependable Truths

The Mystery within

"The Art of Hearing Heartbeats" by Jan-Philipp Sendker is a novel my book club is currently reading about a grown daughter, Julia, who goes in search of her father who mysteriously left family and country after her graduation from law school.  She questions:

What do we know about our parents, and what do they know about us?  And if we don't even know the individuals who have accompanied us since birth—we not them and they not us—then what do we know about anyone at all?  …on which truths can one ultimately depend?"   

Two dependable truths came to mind for me.  First, I really cannot judge another or say what they should be or do.  And second, I need to be true to myself.  Writing "God Never Hurries" was a gradual unfolding and pulling together of freeing truths for me.

The following is some of my dependable learning from "God Never Hurries:"

"Being in the present moment, however, is only half the test.  Becoming friendly with the present moment, or accepting it, is the more challenging half."

"I sat there with a great discomfort and began to understand the real test for me was to sit with my distress...it was also my deepest learning."

"The right questions began to surface from my pain.  My relief was in my pain; my safety was in my questions."

"I found much grace in my trouble."

 "I saw the complicity of my silence in all the past abuse."

"It was as if the sweet seductive voice of God whispered, Be not afraid."

"The more difficult life became, the deeper grew my experience of a caring Presence in the Natural world to whom I belonged.  I came to see God everywhere—and even where God wasn't—in the abuse."

"Bearing accusations of betrayal and seeing my mother hurt was an enormous price to pay to be true to my own soul."

"To hope means to struggle.  …It can't hurt to have hope but it can hurt not to."

"Justice will be kind.  It will be done over a period of time."

"All that lives is holy, holds truth and mystery for me that I will strive to realize for the rest of my life."

What if we could always trust our troubles to reveal the slow work of God?