She remembered watching a summer sunset from this very spot.
Not so long ago; just a lifetime.
-Sharon Kay Penman
Oh, the heartbreak of anticipated goodbyes.
There have been too many for one lifetime and I am weary …
Weary of letting go,
of choosing between a rock and a hard place,
of the pain of knowing the end is fast approaching,
of being asked, yet again, to sever the connection my heart has yielded to
or some place.
Having found myself in Love again
I do not want to let go.
Love is supposed to last
Love is not supposed to hurt.
Perfect Love is supposed to cast out fear,
because fear is everything that is not Love.
I can only believe,
choose to believe,
that my Father in heaven has something so much more incredible in store for us.
Something beyond the immense, overwhelming, overflowing Love I feel right now.
More than I, or we, can imagine.
Something that will make me weak with humility for the awesome blessing.
Something that will make me say …
Yes, I see it now. Thank You for Loving me enough to pull me through,
reluctantly dragging my feet against my own egoic will,
to the unbelievable beauty on the other side
of what I thought was a Love so expansive that my heart would burst.
I do not like this, but I trust Him and that compels me to place one of my feet in front of the other in divine obedience … the only kind of obedience to which I will ever relent because it is sourced from the Perfect Love that casts out fear. It is …
Patient and kind,
It does not dishonor others,
It keeps no record of wrong,
It does not delight in evil,
It rejoices with the truth,
It always protects,
It always trusts,
It always hopes,
It always perseveres,
And it never ever ever fails.
And so, if THAT kind of Love is asking me to do this difficult thing, I can know beyond the shadow of a doubt that it is in our very best interest. It must be preparing us, drawing the arrow of us against the bow of circumstance to propel us to the next big beautiful Love soaked thing that lies beyond these ideas of wrong doing and right doing.
I am ready to move on to the field that Rumi speaks of … the one that when my soul lies down in its grass the world will be too full to talk about. I will remain awake, as he suggests, listening to the breeze at the dawn after this summer sunset, asking for what I really want. I hope someone will meet me there. Will you meet me there?