A Short Post Script

Jonathan is teaching a class tonight.  He was home all day, and he is worried beyond all reason about paying our mortgage, let alone all the other bills.  He says he feels like this house is an albatross around his neck, and that he is worth more dead than alive.

All I could do was just to touch him, and try to reach out and gather strength for him.  I kept hearing that song in my head as I was doing so; "The World Exploded Into Love All Around Me".  But I can't say a word to him about God, or Love, or Goodness.   He admitted that he is very bitter about the direction his career has gone, and that he feels like such a failure.  I may be pushing this thing too far, but I felt like somehow I could gather Light around him, to protect him; to insulate him from himself.  It's so strange.  Here I have a body which is attacking itself; An autoimmune disease,

but I feel like Jonathan is the one who is really allowing himself to be eaten alive.

I can't find a practical way to help earn money, or I would. 

But maybe, we can be 'gatherers' for other people...not like sacrificing ourselves, or  letting their anger and unhappiness pollute us.  But somehow gather blessings or goodness or happiness for them.  I envision myself like a charcoal filter for all of his pain, self-doubt, and depression to flow through and be cleansed.  Then I just throw it away and put in a new filter.  I have plenty of them!

Don't I sound like PollyAnna? (Or for you Canuks, Anne of Green Gables)?

Of course I realize that if the Universe has a difficult lesson for him, I will be in the same airboat, riding the rapids, even if they are level 5!  Then I will be praying for gills!

Tonight I had dinner with an old friend, and aside from talking about children and grandchildren, she told me about her "friend", and I talked a little bit about Jonathan.  I told her, "He is a post-holocaust Jew.  He and his friends focus on two things:  tradition, and what they don't believe in" (like God, let alone Messiah).

Not that I would change him, or think he isn't OK at that point, but again, I told her how much I wished he could just have a little bit of that warmth...of knowing Something or Someone out there loves him, and that it's all going to be OK.

Pat looked at me and smiled, "but Carla, he does have that!  He has you."

She's sweet, but that is a pretty big order!

Love to all and sweet dreams.

Carla

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Tags: fear, Carrying Eachother, God