A Meditation on Devotion
A very wise women once told me that her deepest prayer, every day was this: oh my Gods, Whom I love beyond breath, because I love You, teach me how to love You. I didn’t realize it then but what she’d told me was the seedling of fire at the very core of devotion: because I love You, teach me how to love You and everything flows from there. That love becomes a weight, a power in the heart, mind, and spirit that one cannot ignore. it shifts and eddies and flows and shimmies around every sharp edged corner of our doubt, of our pain, of our weakness, of our pride, of our longing, oh most of all our longing and it shifts us, carefully smoothing away the flinty edges of that internal scream that calls out to the Gods with all its might and fights Them just as fiercely. It brings warmth to the coldness of spiritual desolation. It brings illumination to our unknowing. It carefully adjusts and reorients us until the entire world inside and out is transformed. It is the weight of longing that pulls one down into devotion and sustains one through it all. It is not a feeling so much as a goad, a champion, a driving force. Make me new again oh my Gods that I might be always remade in You, that with each faltering, fumbling step I might please You and open myself ever more to Your understanding, Your mysteries, Your presence. It is a rendering sometimes sweet, sometimes purest agony.