The power of saying " God Loves Me "

A short rambling on spiritual love.

A current inner dialogue exploring thoughts on spiritual love:

Of course, on the starting line near the head of the road and stumbling blindly down the briary path - the expression “ God loves me “ seem a most ridiculous trinity of words to lump together in a sentence and a rather grandiose notion to entertain.

I tried out these words aloud in front of mirror not a million moons ago and my body had a physical reaction and the bodily response was immediate rejection. My eyes quickly averted away from the eyes staring back at me in the mirror. As if I was attempting to force-feed them a lie. And maybe I was in a manner. They were only words after all and ones infused with little or no belief.

In a way I can’t fully explain, I think, our bodies are a store of each and every piece of thinking and action we’ve executed through-out our existance. So, in a real sense, have the scars of every dark thought and shadowy deed we’ve entertained in our lives. In moments like the one described above the muscles automatically contract and every fibre of my being braced itself for incoming trouble. But, the reaction was a starting point and a place to begin a little exploration.

What were the things my body was hauling out from the subterranean depths?

Well, let’s just say, one or two lines of enquiry vividly flashed before my eyes. The temptation was to merely shrug my shoulders and mutter “ well, I can’t do anything about those things, can I? “

Usually, you can though. Inconveniently. Whether it be to make peace with those images flashing in your mind or to earnestly examine them and maybe do something about them for future protection against yourself.

Now, repeating the exercise of saying “ God loves me “ in front of the mirror brought some mixed results. Occasionally, on a logical or cerebral level I could believe the words but in a way that isn’t particularly good or useful. Like, you know, on the days when life is going well and I’m feeling good about myself. But, good can quickly turn to goodness me; as in what the hell did I just say or do. Where the inner dialogue speaks with confidence and then bored with confidence onto no little arrogance and a few other sweet delicacies.

“ Well, of course God fucking loves me, and actually a little known fact about my good self is.. like….I might be totally fucking awesome altogether “

Not particularly useful, shall we say. Now, this is when the overflow from my cup of good-feeling starts leaking into my ego and eventually my ego wants to grab the cup and start guzzling it down wholesale. We all need a healthy ego to survive but I guess we also all need to know when to stop feeding it pints of Carlsberg. And from my alcohol drinking days, I know the last pint of lager on a night out should really have occurred five or six pints earlier than the actual last one.

Any brief periods of breakthrough I feel I’ve experienced down the old bog road is when I believe I’ve felt God’s love. Fleetingly. Most often Questioningly. An accidental discovery on most occasions.

“ Was that him ? “

“ It couldn’t have been, could it ? “

When a love-like-feeling has brought tears to my eyes and realising in those tiny moments - if it indeed is him - that his love is humbling above all else. The sheer power, intensity and majesty of it. Thunderous and ferocious almost. Thoughts and mind activity is briefly lost but when they do return I can’t help but accept how utterly insignificant and flawed I am and yet astonished too at how vitally important he’s just made me feel. How unique I am to him and how unique his love for me is and then further how unique his love must be for everyone. Not a yellow-pack or one size fits all type of love, I would say. God, I suspect, loves people exactly in the fashion they need to be loved. So, I guess, much of the spiritual journey is about figuring out how best to receive his love as much as it is to offer up praises, prayers and love to him in return.

In these momentary alignments there is a certain knowledge too that I couldn’t cope with more than a few seconds of his focused affection at a time. A love to be treated almost the way a car treats fuel. For, it only takes a couple of minutes to fill up a diesel tank parked in a petrol station forecourt and yet the car might run on that fuel for a week or more at a time. My path ahead will be made easier then by reducing the number of times I get lost and dragged down the wrong roads between refills. Not always arriving to the meeting place in desperation or getting stranded alone down a long, lonely valley with a tank running on empty and no clue where the next petrol station might be or maybe even forgetting how to fill myself up correctly. Anyway, these are just a few of my current thoughts on the topic.

The path ahead seems uncertain but it has helped a lot since I’ve started to approach it as an adventure discovery and not a chore while exploring the proper internalisation and acceptance of the notion that God might actually love me.

Have a great weekend.

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