Tuesday, November 7, 2006 at 2:02am
A betrayed and broken heart needs miracles
Column: Writing Down Your Soul
In her "Spiritual Geography" series, Janet Conner walks beside the broken-hearted, teaching them how to locate their position on the map of spiritual healing and unlock the personal divine guidance that will move them from where they are to where they want to be — Peace. Everyone begins in the Country of Betrayal and travels through the Countries of Pain, War, Illusion, Surrender, and Choice, accomplishing a spiritual task and receiving a spiritual gift in each country. The journey culminates in the Country of Peace with the miracle of forgiveness and the receipt of a healed, whole, and holy heart. Today, we continue our exploration of the fifth country on the map, the Country of Surrender.
— — —
We love reading about miracles. Jesus feeding the multitudes. Moses parting the Red Sea. The walls of Jericho tumbling down. Grand stories. Awesome miracles. But we carefully relegate them to the far distant past. Miracles are great in our sacred books, but everyone knows they don't happen now. Well, maybe to somebody, somewhere else, but not to us. We don't expect to hear about a miracle down the street and we certainly don't expect miracles in our own ordinary lives.
So our travels through the Country of Surrender come as a big surprise. Your psycho-spiritual healing task in Surrender is to learn to trust. Trust that Spirit is with you. Trust that God provides. Trust that God notices and knows. Trust, in other words, in miracles. Sounds great, but how do you get there?
Therein lies the paradox, stated succinctly and elegantly in the phrase, "Let go and let God." But which comes first? Do you let go and then hope God swoops in and takes care of you? Or do you trust God to be there, and because you trust God to be there, are able to release your grip on the people and possessions you collected to protect yourself from poverty and pity.
This sounds like a fairly deep theological debate. Something I avoid at all costs. I'm not in the business of dogma or didactics or conversion. I'm in the business of helping people find their way through the seven countries of spiritual healing using every practical spiritual tool at their disposal. So, rather than weigh the virtues of letting go first or letting God first, let me tell you a few stories about miracles. My miracles. Miracles that happened to me while I was making my trek through the Country of Surrender.
In the Country of Illusion, I had figured out that I created my world. I figured this out through the daily spiritual practice of sacred journaling. Every morning I told God what was happening and every morning God talked to me about how to shift my thinking to a different, higher consciousness. It was slow going, but over time I was able to connect the dots between my toxic thinking patterns and the world I created.
I knew I was slowly getting better. But if I was ever going to be completely healed, if I was going to make it all the way to happy, I needed a miracle — quite a few actually. So, I started asking. What harm could it do? I was getting daily guidance in my journal. I was learning to shift my thinking. Couldn't I get miracles, too? I mean real miracles, things of substance — money, to be precise.
So I asked. One morning, I wrote: "Dear God, you know I need ten thousand dollars for the attorney. I don't know how you're going to do it, but I know you're going to send ten thousand dollars. Thank you right here and right now for your gift of ten thousand dollars."
Nothing happened. No brilliant words. No lottery numbers. No treasure map. I got up and made a pot of tea. Two days later my mother called. Now, my mother is Catholic. Not your average Sunday Catholic. Oh no. My mother is Big Catholic. Mega Catholic. Rosary-on-your-knees, still-not-eating-meat-on-Friday Catholic. Not only had none of her five children so much as breathed the word divorce, only one of my thirty-five Irish Catholic first cousins had gotten one and my mother had ceased mentioning "her" by name.
I took a deep breath.
"Dear," my mother said, "we've given money to all the other children but we've never given any to you." (I was well aware. The one time I asked for three hundred dollars to get away from a lunatic boyfriend in the 70s, my father said, "You made your bed; lie in it." I didn't ask again.) "So, dear, we're sending you ten thousand dollars." (Her use of "we" was precious; the other half of "we" had been dead for five years.) I said thank you, of course, to my mother, but rest assured I wrote profound deep thank yous to my Real Source in my sacred journal the next day.
The ten thousand dollars covered my legal bills but it didn't touch the house expenses. I had enough savings to last a year. Spending it on the house was probably foolhardy, but everything else was blowing up in my son's life; I wanted him to be able to stay in the only house he'd ever known. But the day eventually came when I didn't have money for the mortgage. I turned to Spirit: "Dear God, I don't know how you are going to handle this, but I know you are. I need two thousand dollars. And I've waited way too long to ask you. I need it now. Thank you and Amen."
An hour later the phone rang. It was a client. She said the strangest thing, "I don't know why, but I just feel you should send us an invoice for two thousand dollars." Of course I did know why, but I just said, "I'd be delighted to do that." The next morning I wrote THANK YOU in huge letters across my sacred journal page and had a long chat with Spirit about gratefulness.
Eventually my savings were gone. I broke down and put the house on the market. The last month in the house I faced a stack of bills with only $343 in my checking account. "Dear God," I wrote, "I know you hear me. I have no idea how you are going to do it this time, but I know — I know — you provide for us now and always. And all is well. Thank you in advance for the miracles that you provide."
I blessed the envelopes and began. First up: the electric bill, typically around a hundred dollars. The statement said I owed $14.06. Huh? That's weird. The lowest power bill I'd ever had was 60 bucks. Oh well, if they made a mistake, hooray for me. Next: the water bill. I hated the water bill. Despite my best efforts at conservation, the bill ran over a hundred dollars every two months. I blinked at the amount due: $24.15. Oh, I thought, maybe it's not for two months. I checked the dates. It covered 62 days. I didn't investigate further.
Next: Mobil Oil. Gas was usually $55 or so. Amount due? $13.13. This was starting to be fun. Next! The phone bill. To keep the cost down, my family called me most of the time, but still, the invoice was only $22.98. Next! Cable. It was for the normal amount: $33.36. Oh well, can't win 'em all. Next: Garbage. Uh oh. I knew this invoice by heart. It was always for exactly the same amount: $58.45. Amount due: $0.00. What? The statement said I'd paid double last month. I sure didn't remember doing that.
Next: Visa. This one wasn't going to be pretty. I took a deep breath, looked to heaven, and opened the envelope. Amount due: $ -39.09. In big letters it said: CREDIT BALANCE. DO NOT PAY. A credit? How could that happen? I had no idea. I just smiled and filed it. In the end I had $48 left, enough to buy a week's groceries if I shopped carefully at the Greek produce stand.
This time I didn't just write my thank yous, I danced them. Up and down the hallway, laughing and twirling and singing my thank yous with joyous yelps. Thank you, God, Thank you, God, Thank you, God!
Miracles, as you can see, became a habit, a really lovely habit. But please don't think miracles only happen to me. I tell you my stories not to separate myself as "mystical" or "special" but to demonstrate beyond all doubt that we are all connected to God, all in touch with the divine, all miracle-makers.
Looking back at my miracles, I wondered if I let go first or let God first and I realized that's the wrong question altogether. There's only one thing my miracles stories have in common. In all three, I told God, "I know you provide." That's it.
Mark records Jesus talking about the deep power of total knowing: "If someone says to this mountain, 'Be pulled up and thrown into the sea,' with no doubt in his heart, and believing that what he says will happen, it will be done for him. Everything you ask and pray for, believe that you have it already, and it will be yours" (Mark 11:23-24).
Sounds easy, but it's not. Because the truth is we don't really believe God is in charge. We don't really believe that God is watching and providing in every moment. We may say the words in church, but we don't really buy them. If we did, our lives would look completely different.
And that's why the journey through Surrender, tough as it is, is a gift above all others. If traveling through Surrender, you reach a moment where you know that God is in charge and is taking care of you at all times, then you have received the biggest miracle of all.
(Next week: Leaving Surrender)
— — —
Janet Conner, S.E., is the cartographer of the map of Spiritual Geography and author of the Spiritual Geography series. Spiritual Geography has been hailed by professionals in the mental health, legal, and ministerial fields as the first system to not only map the total healing process, but also provide practical spiritual tools that anyone can use to move from where they are to where they want to be — Peace. Visit Spiritual Geography for books, interactive maps, locators, and other Spiritual Geography materials. Reach Janet at janetconner@tampabay.rr.com.© copyright 2006 by Janet Conner
— — —
We love reading about miracles. Jesus feeding the multitudes. Moses parting the Red Sea. The walls of Jericho tumbling down. Grand stories. Awesome miracles. But we carefully relegate them to the far distant past. Miracles are great in our sacred books, but everyone knows they don't happen now. Well, maybe to somebody, somewhere else, but not to us. We don't expect to hear about a miracle down the street and we certainly don't expect miracles in our own ordinary lives.
So our travels through the Country of Surrender come as a big surprise. Your psycho-spiritual healing task in Surrender is to learn to trust. Trust that Spirit is with you. Trust that God provides. Trust that God notices and knows. Trust, in other words, in miracles. Sounds great, but how do you get there?
Therein lies the paradox, stated succinctly and elegantly in the phrase, "Let go and let God." But which comes first? Do you let go and then hope God swoops in and takes care of you? Or do you trust God to be there, and because you trust God to be there, are able to release your grip on the people and possessions you collected to protect yourself from poverty and pity.
This sounds like a fairly deep theological debate. Something I avoid at all costs. I'm not in the business of dogma or didactics or conversion. I'm in the business of helping people find their way through the seven countries of spiritual healing using every practical spiritual tool at their disposal. So, rather than weigh the virtues of letting go first or letting God first, let me tell you a few stories about miracles. My miracles. Miracles that happened to me while I was making my trek through the Country of Surrender.
In the Country of Illusion, I had figured out that I created my world. I figured this out through the daily spiritual practice of sacred journaling. Every morning I told God what was happening and every morning God talked to me about how to shift my thinking to a different, higher consciousness. It was slow going, but over time I was able to connect the dots between my toxic thinking patterns and the world I created.
I knew I was slowly getting better. But if I was ever going to be completely healed, if I was going to make it all the way to happy, I needed a miracle — quite a few actually. So, I started asking. What harm could it do? I was getting daily guidance in my journal. I was learning to shift my thinking. Couldn't I get miracles, too? I mean real miracles, things of substance — money, to be precise.
So I asked. One morning, I wrote: "Dear God, you know I need ten thousand dollars for the attorney. I don't know how you're going to do it, but I know you're going to send ten thousand dollars. Thank you right here and right now for your gift of ten thousand dollars."
Nothing happened. No brilliant words. No lottery numbers. No treasure map. I got up and made a pot of tea. Two days later my mother called. Now, my mother is Catholic. Not your average Sunday Catholic. Oh no. My mother is Big Catholic. Mega Catholic. Rosary-on-your-knees, still-not-eating-meat-on-Friday Catholic. Not only had none of her five children so much as breathed the word divorce, only one of my thirty-five Irish Catholic first cousins had gotten one and my mother had ceased mentioning "her" by name.
I took a deep breath.
"Dear," my mother said, "we've given money to all the other children but we've never given any to you." (I was well aware. The one time I asked for three hundred dollars to get away from a lunatic boyfriend in the 70s, my father said, "You made your bed; lie in it." I didn't ask again.) "So, dear, we're sending you ten thousand dollars." (Her use of "we" was precious; the other half of "we" had been dead for five years.) I said thank you, of course, to my mother, but rest assured I wrote profound deep thank yous to my Real Source in my sacred journal the next day.
The ten thousand dollars covered my legal bills but it didn't touch the house expenses. I had enough savings to last a year. Spending it on the house was probably foolhardy, but everything else was blowing up in my son's life; I wanted him to be able to stay in the only house he'd ever known. But the day eventually came when I didn't have money for the mortgage. I turned to Spirit: "Dear God, I don't know how you are going to handle this, but I know you are. I need two thousand dollars. And I've waited way too long to ask you. I need it now. Thank you and Amen."
An hour later the phone rang. It was a client. She said the strangest thing, "I don't know why, but I just feel you should send us an invoice for two thousand dollars." Of course I did know why, but I just said, "I'd be delighted to do that." The next morning I wrote THANK YOU in huge letters across my sacred journal page and had a long chat with Spirit about gratefulness.
Eventually my savings were gone. I broke down and put the house on the market. The last month in the house I faced a stack of bills with only $343 in my checking account. "Dear God," I wrote, "I know you hear me. I have no idea how you are going to do it this time, but I know — I know — you provide for us now and always. And all is well. Thank you in advance for the miracles that you provide."
I blessed the envelopes and began. First up: the electric bill, typically around a hundred dollars. The statement said I owed $14.06. Huh? That's weird. The lowest power bill I'd ever had was 60 bucks. Oh well, if they made a mistake, hooray for me. Next: the water bill. I hated the water bill. Despite my best efforts at conservation, the bill ran over a hundred dollars every two months. I blinked at the amount due: $24.15. Oh, I thought, maybe it's not for two months. I checked the dates. It covered 62 days. I didn't investigate further.
Next: Mobil Oil. Gas was usually $55 or so. Amount due? $13.13. This was starting to be fun. Next! The phone bill. To keep the cost down, my family called me most of the time, but still, the invoice was only $22.98. Next! Cable. It was for the normal amount: $33.36. Oh well, can't win 'em all. Next: Garbage. Uh oh. I knew this invoice by heart. It was always for exactly the same amount: $58.45. Amount due: $0.00. What? The statement said I'd paid double last month. I sure didn't remember doing that.
Next: Visa. This one wasn't going to be pretty. I took a deep breath, looked to heaven, and opened the envelope. Amount due: $ -39.09. In big letters it said: CREDIT BALANCE. DO NOT PAY. A credit? How could that happen? I had no idea. I just smiled and filed it. In the end I had $48 left, enough to buy a week's groceries if I shopped carefully at the Greek produce stand.
This time I didn't just write my thank yous, I danced them. Up and down the hallway, laughing and twirling and singing my thank yous with joyous yelps. Thank you, God, Thank you, God, Thank you, God!
Miracles, as you can see, became a habit, a really lovely habit. But please don't think miracles only happen to me. I tell you my stories not to separate myself as "mystical" or "special" but to demonstrate beyond all doubt that we are all connected to God, all in touch with the divine, all miracle-makers.
Looking back at my miracles, I wondered if I let go first or let God first and I realized that's the wrong question altogether. There's only one thing my miracles stories have in common. In all three, I told God, "I know you provide." That's it.
Mark records Jesus talking about the deep power of total knowing: "If someone says to this mountain, 'Be pulled up and thrown into the sea,' with no doubt in his heart, and believing that what he says will happen, it will be done for him. Everything you ask and pray for, believe that you have it already, and it will be yours" (Mark 11:23-24).
Sounds easy, but it's not. Because the truth is we don't really believe God is in charge. We don't really believe that God is watching and providing in every moment. We may say the words in church, but we don't really buy them. If we did, our lives would look completely different.
And that's why the journey through Surrender, tough as it is, is a gift above all others. If traveling through Surrender, you reach a moment where you know that God is in charge and is taking care of you at all times, then you have received the biggest miracle of all.
(Next week: Leaving Surrender)
— — —
Janet Conner, S.E., is the cartographer of the map of Spiritual Geography and author of the Spiritual Geography series. Spiritual Geography has been hailed by professionals in the mental health, legal, and ministerial fields as the first system to not only map the total healing process, but also provide practical spiritual tools that anyone can use to move from where they are to where they want to be — Peace. Visit Spiritual Geography for books, interactive maps, locators, and other Spiritual Geography materials. Reach Janet at janetconner@tampabay.rr.com.© copyright 2006 by Janet Conner