How can I give you up, my beloved? How can I hand you over, O Israel? My heart recoils within me; my compassion grows warm and tender. I will not execute my fierce anger; I will not destroy you; for I am God and no mortal, the Holy One in your midst, and I will not come in wrath. —Hosea 11.8-10
I am not your enemy. I am for you, not against. I am not like your anger, I am not your fear. I am your joy, your peace. I am your breathing, your heartbeat, your blood, your Being. I am the fullness of you, unfolding as you let me. I have only blessing for you, like a mother for her newborn. I am your perfection, longing for you. My judgment is not harsh, but pure mercy, my seeing your brilliance folded in the bud, my knowledge of your beauty waiting in you. I do not judge your doubts but give you strength to tear them open and find in them the mirror of your grace. I know your childish fears, your helpless lashing out, I have seen the rage seeping into you. My wrath burns not against you but that lie. I will hold you until you quiet in my arms. You are angry because you are afraid that I am not here for you but I am here for you. Be still, and let me hold you.
__________________ Steve Garnaas-Holmes Unfolding Light www.unfoldinglight.net
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