I’m standing in the place of silence, there is sand but no sea. In front of me appears a road that disappears in the distance. I hear, not a voice, but words in my spirit, “The road is death, the end is life.” Do I remain rooted where I stand or do I begin walking?
Today is Good Friday on the Christian Calendar and I woke this morning with silence in my spirit. This is not unusual for me. I made a cup of coffee and went outside to watch the birds, sip my coffee and pray. This is usual for me. Before I’m through, I send prayer messages to my children. They are all adults now and I think their mother’s voice has become an irritation to them, so I WhatsApp the message instead. I wonder if this is common. I search for images. Images that depict the message of Christ. I come across many, many images of the cross, the crucified Christ. I listen to one video, The Beatitudes, also known as the Sermon on the Mount.
“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled. Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy. Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God. Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God. Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me. Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.”
The thought crosses my mind, that on a mount He died and on a mount He shared words of life. And the road once again appears before me. It is the journey of life itself, filled with what we may believe are paradoxes, but is in fact the very nature of existence.
There are times when sadness grips my soul and the darkness of depression engulfs me and I look for the flickering flame. I fan it ablaze and the search for understanding renews my spirit. I’ve learnt that the strength of will to do what is right and just, like building a muscular body, comes not from resting and reading but a place of pain and desire. I can only be merciful, when circumstances push me to the place where I am called to make the choice to either exercise what may be my right or see beyond to the other’s pain. To bring about peace, to make peace, I must first be in a place of conflict. I can see God only when I can see the goodness in those I encounter, even when they are not deemed ‘good.’
I ponder on the Beatitudes and once again I am in the place of silence, the road before me. This is life. Not so much about paradoxes, but opportunities to experience light. To be rewarded with light.
The message is clear. The choice is always yours. You are on that road each day you open your eyes and make the first choice to live. Each decision you make thereafter, determines whether the light within you grows and expands or flickers and dies.
As our light expands, we make the journey easier for our fellow travelers. And as we journey through the death experiences together, each making it easier for the other, our collective light brings us life.