In the Silence, sitting upright with my feet flat on the floor in my office, I imagine roots flowing from my soles extending deep into Mother Earth… Deep, deep, deep. Ahhh… Connected.
I get to thinking how I suppose it is evident that as far back as I can remember I’d hoped that someone, somebody would take care of me. And, you know what? Not one man ever did!
I suppose this expectation, perhaps yearning, stems from my very early childhood days. With three sibs (two sets of twins all together), a dad busy working trying to feed six mouths, a mom whose own mom died when she was 18 months old due to complications arising from birthing her, etc., it was difficult to feel cared for.
Sitting in the Silence, feeling the roots flowing from my soles extending deep into Mother Earth, I realize that I AM cared for. God takes care of me with every breath I breathe, every millisecond of this life, all lives past and any more to come, whatever the dimension, whatever the world.
I am a child of God, of no one else. And, I am in God’s care always.