The Meanderings of a Spiritual Servant #2

Finding My Way

We all come into this life with a purpose we want to fulfill. This purpose is a choice we make spiritually. The way I describe it is this:

• Life is like going to college.
• Like college, we can choose what we want to major in.
• For some, it is psychology.
• For others, it is architecture.
• Some choose a field in business.
• And some choose life’s lessons. Some choose both a career in worldly success and the field of life’s lessons. i.e., addictions, loss, mental health issues, abuse, and a variety of other emotional and mental challenges. You can have more than one major. You can succeed incredibly in your vocation and simultaneously face many other challenges in life. After choosing our major, we are responsible for selecting the classes we want to take to achieve our goal. The major I chose was one of forgiveness; unfortunately or fortunately, I first had to have something to forgive to learn forgiveness, but I am convinced. I choose my classes, and I determine the goals I will achieve.

Where this gets intriguing: part of the spiritual journey, once we enter the class, we forget we chose our major, and we forget we have the power to choose the classes. Thus, we feel we are, to varying degrees, victims of the world in which we live. Taking responsibility for our chosen classes is a treasured part of our spiritual journey. Thus, we are no longer the victims of our choices and we become the authors of our stories.

The classes I have chosen have made it difficult to wrap my mind around the concept that anyone would choose this life/these classes. When many of the ideas I now embrace (as best I possibly can) were first presented to me, I would either laugh out loud about them or shrug them off like water off a duck, but they always resonated as something I should pursue. I could not argue with the resonance. The ideas would sometimes cling to my mind and haunt me into the wee hours of the morning. Most of them were like buying new shoes; it took a while to break them in and let them become mine.

I was led to certain books containing messages that sometimes rattled my brain, and still, they soothed my soul. I needed this life of mine to make sense. I never had any doubt whatsoever there was a God. I didn’t believe He liked me. I thought this punishing God was out to get me. My childhood was a literal hell, and He had thrown me into this hell, and it felt like an eternity. My soul was burning with fear, guilt, and anger beyond words. My life became one of utter defiance. Whatever I was told He did not want me to do, I did it; whatever I was told He did want me to do, I refused and did it anyway.

So, when these spiritual concepts were presented to me after they became comfortable, I began to search vehemently for answers. My previous choices had led me down a path riddled with self-destruction. Again, my choices.

Books I would have never dreamed of reading were laid in my lap and provided answers that allowed my mind to breathe and my soul to awaken. I read Richard Bach’s “Illusions: The Adventures of a Reluctant Messiah,” and devoured that book as if it were a spiritual pizza. Dan Millman’s “The Way of the Peaceful Warrior” fed me. Oddly, the more their words fed me, the hungrier I became. Answers were coming at lightning speed, and I could not keep up. Og Mandino’s “The Choice” again choice. WM. Paul Young’s “The Shack: Where Tragedy Confronts Eternity”. Each of these was a divine tool in opening my mind to a way of believing that has allowed me to live a meaningful life. These authors and many others became my guides.

It also helped to be led to many people through the twelve-step fellowships who lived the life I wanted. They became my guides. After listening to me rant about all my ideas about God, one of the elders said, “It just might behoove you to be open to the idea that perhaps everything you think you know about God could be wrong.” Those words became a wrecking ball and slammed into the closed door of my mind, allowing me to learn a way that works for me. They all changed my beliefs from a God to be feared to a concept of God that only wanted me to know His love for me.

The twelve steps and A Course in Miracles have become the foundation upon which my weary soul has been able to rest for quite a while now.

Many will reject my words here; some may even take offense. I apologize. My intention is not to offend anyone but to make you think. I hope to offer hope to the ones seeking answers where they have been told, “There is no answer; this is just the way it is.” I may not have the answers yet, but my not knowing the answer and you not knowing the answer does not mean there is no answer. I cannot stress this enough.

At the end of Richard Bach’s “Illusions: The Adventures of a Reluctant Messiah,” he says, “Everything in this book may be wrong.” I hold on to the possibility of being wrong with what I now believe. Otherwise, I can no longer be taught, and this life of mine would become stale. I have to remain teachable; to do so, I must be willing to be wrong.

Thanks for visiting, and please let me know your thoughts.