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The Bosom of Christ

The Bosom of Christ

I have never gotten much traction from imagining myself resting in the bosom of Christ.  Until now.

In the past couple of days, the tension of living in a time of restriction coupled with brewing violence has really been getting to me.  I’ve felt irritable, weepy, and burnt out.

The tension is like a storm that hasn’t yet broken.  I am isolated in my home, connected to the rest of the world only through the internet and a few sparse visits with friends.  I’ve quit listening to the news because it feels so one-sided, divisive and awful-making.  And yet I feel that there are dangerous, polarizing forces out there, threatening.  In my soul I feel the weight of all the people who have died in the Pandemic and all the sorrow and anger of their loved ones.  I feel the anxiety of those who face losing jobs, losing homes, not having enough to eat.  I feel deep concern for all those living with violent spouses or parents — or children.  And I can’t touch anybody.  I can’t actually be in their spaces, weeping and shouting and trembling with them.

These days I am sitting with an icon of Christ the Good Shepherd.  This morning I found myself imagining just tipping my head forward and leaning against his chest.  I imagined feeling his heartbeat through the top of my skull — that throb of the Universe itself that is also the rhythm of a particular human heart, one that loves me entirely, with humility and compassion.  We don’t say anything; we just rest there together while I experience that deep healing connection.

For God so loved the world. . .  

God does indeed love the world.  

The world is God’s, entirely.

. . . God gave God’s only begotten Son. . . 

Christ is God’s, entirely.

Christ is ours, entirely.

We are Christ’s.  Entirely.

. . .so that everyone who believes in him . . .

Anyone who reaches for God will find God

Anyone who finds God will find Love

Love is the heart of Christ that beats against the top of my skull

That enfolds me.

. . . may not perish but may have eternal life . . .

I am part of the heartbeat of the Universe.

The heartbeat of Christ courses through me.

I rest in Christ. Entirely.

In God.  Entirely.



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