17 Surrender (and again)

Promised Land is a state of being,
and home is a frequency.

I feel I want (not can, want) to trust God with what He has in store for my life. What Life itself has in store for my life, so I can merge my life with Life itself. Or the other way around: merging my life—the rhythm of my life—with Life’s rhythm so that I can see where it takes me. The rhythm of life is the expression of God.

God brought me through the darkest years of my life. I do believe that I was in a spiritual warfare and that I was at stake. It felt as if metal had been cutting through my Soul. The fact that I am still here, healthy, with an increasingly happy heart, with none of the outer things in my life that I had wanted being present, is proof of God. I feel as if my Red Sea had parted and I had walked right through it. It felt long, it felt hard, and the walls of the water were high. At one point, I fixed my eyes on the horizon, giving less and less attention to the walls of water, and less and less attention to the possibility that they could collapse right over me. The thoughts about the possibility. In the end it is all thoughts.

I am ready to do what I am here to do. When I was a child, I sat in the bathroom, crying, because I felt I would have to become a missionary. And I didn’t want to because missionaries were poor and I wanted to live a rich life. This was quite some years ago. Today, there are so many forms of missionaries.

For me, it is about letting my life be a Testimony. A proof that God exists—in Beauty and Glory. A Testimony that God not only consoles or helps in difficult times—but fulfills wishes through Faith that seem so ridiculous to the world.

I wrote the above yesterday evening after hours of simple happiness. I was lying on a blanket at my favorite spot in nature, surrounded by bushes dancing in the wind and the sea in sight. My feet touched the red, dry soil. And I was happy because I was lying there for the first time in a long time without feeling sad, sorry, or lonely. Being there was actually my first choice and not the only choice I had. I felt content. Simply content. I felt free from feeling like a victim on all levels, so free that this thought didn’t even occur to me while being in this extended moment of happiness.

Today, I woke up, and some of the old thoughts were back again, the ones that cause resistance towards the day or what is (and is not). The thoughts that ask when the outer world will adjust. After some time of feeling angry that yesterday’s beautiful state had vanished, I realized that I am not willing to host these thoughts any longer. I could sense how much they were bringing me down. So I got up and quit playing them in my mind, one after the other.

For me, it helps to shift states (or: quit unhelpful thoughts) by reading something inspirational that speaks from a higher point, a point where I want to be. At the moment, I love "Thought Access" by Idil Ahmed. You might love it, too.