The dream of a romance is gone: a mortal blow on Saturday morning, pronounced DOA Sunday.
It is, however, meet and fitting that this should be so. This was not our time, for many good reasons. Whether there is an appointed time for us is in God's hands. Each of us has work to do inside; neither of us is ready for commitment to anyone, really, until that work is successfully finished. And that's all right.
My hope is that, whatever the destinies of these two people, the one God sends to share a life with me will have many of the qualities I have come to love in Rebecca: deep love for others; playfulness; a kind word for every creature; earthiness and humor; a fierceness about protecting and nurturing her own being and its needs, which allows her to do the same for others; honesty, directness and fearlessness to speak what she knows; decorum, dignity and respect when these come from within, and when they are deserved, but a refusal to observe empty forms or hold her peace when the dignity is a sham, when self-importance masquerades as worth. Rebecca sees the world in uncommon terms, finding beauty, joy and miracles at every turn in the world the Creator made for us; and while for much of her life she was discouraged from speaking her vision, it was--and is--a constant source of delight now that she has found her voice. She is patient, forbearing with the foibles of others; and there is no holding back in her engagement with life.
For my part, the sadness of this new death seems to have emptied me of the illusion of my strength, my capacity, my own desires. The quiet voice inside tells me this is the starting place I have been moving toward all this time--Amelia's illness and the long goodbye; all the many uncertainties in my life; and now meeting Rebecca, sharing a few months, and, ultimately, having to recognize the unpalatable reality of our being out of time with each other. Into this void can be poured all the qualities and capacities I seek, but now from their true source. In the silence maybe, just maybe, can be heard the voice of Him Who stands within, Who is the real origin of all good, all strength, all knowing. From the shadows can emerge, if He wills it and He helps, that true self that is selfless, drawing on the limitless springs of the soul to become generous, capable, loving, wise and ready to give back all the richness that has been lavished upon it during these terrible, wonderful years.
I suspect there will be false starts, sudden setbacks and frustrations, along with the sense of progress so evident now. It will be hard to remember what is the truth:
When I say I have no dreams, it's wrong.
When I say I don't know how, it's wrong.
When I say I can't understand, it's wrong.
When I say I am less, I have neither talent nor strength nor worth,
It's wrong.
When I say I am bad, cruel, unfeeling, hopeless or unknowing,
It's all wrong.
My soul owns all these things, and more.
My spirit has the power to manifest all these things, heal all these things,
Fill all these gaps, and much, much more.
Because He has placed all this within my soul,
And because He stands within me, Mighty, Powerful and Self-Subsisting.
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