Deciding You Are Loved

Posted Friday, January 15, 2016

It was was the summer of 2001. We were two men taking a break from our spiritual retreat and going for a swim in the lake. 

With all of my fervor, I ran back to my room and got my sad imitation of an iPod and brought it into the lake. I had him listen to the latest song that was messing with my head. The song was called “My Beloved” and it has one simple message—there is nothing for you to do or to earn as a child of god. “You are my beloved,” god says. Over and over again he says it. 

I asked my friend, “What would our lives be like if we actually believed it? Really?”

Two young men baptizing themselves and talking about love. Taking about trusting a force of goodness. Talking about the stuff we all think about but rarely say out loud.

I’m in my mid-40s now and there is one thing I am sure of—I’m not alone with my questions. Men and women are asking the same question in different ways. 

“Am I loved?”
“Am I worthy?”
“Am I enough?”
“Do I have what it takes?”

I say you are. I say you do. 

And it matters. It matters in nearly everything we do. When you can begin to let go of the story that says you must accomplish things in order to be valuable—life changes. Your home life changes. Your work changes. Dare I say that the world changes.

This weekend, I challenge you to choose to believe it. At least for a day. See what occurs. For an even bigger challenge do one of the following (but only if it initially seems impossible):

  • Take a nap.
  • Commit to not explaining yourself even a single time all day.
  • Leave the bed unmade.
  • Call a friend with nothing to say.

Tell me how it goes. Also, enjoy the poem below that came to my good friend Marian Baker while on a three-day silent meditation retreat.

Come Sit with Me

Oh Beloved, 
come sit with me
Won’t you please whisper sweet nothingness into my ears

Let me lean back into your strength and smell
Slide your hands around me
Caress and squeeze
Embrace and absorb the cries no one else hears

Come mend the tiniest shards of my shatteredness  
Wipe the illusion from my gaze and penetrate my being with a whole new holy vision 

Help me sing and dance and praise
C’mon, 
let’s release this girl
from her ready-set, 
not-ready prison

I know better, but it’s absurd how I keep asking why 
I can’t stop asking why 
It’s comical and tragic

I feel like I’m doing a tease dance with the mystery
And magic gets invited, then pushed away
When all I’ve ever wanted was for real love to stay  

Oh my dear, precious, darling you 
How could true love ever leave? 

That is absurd, indeed
There’s nothing for you to do
Nothing more that you’ll ever need

Now taste my breath upon your lips
Let me kiss your naked shoulders until they melt
Relax and rise into the glorious woman I know you to be

Dare to soar where kings have climbed and nuns have knelt
Don’t you see, I’m calling you home, my love

Come inside, come inside
I am the one inviting you
to sit with me

Poem by Marian Baker


Check out our last 6 eNewsletters:

November 4, 2016--Crossing the Continental Divide (Both Literally and Metaphorically)


May 13, 2016-Are You Embracing Your Goo?

April 6, 2016--Micromanagement is Good Management


Recent Posts


Tags


Archive