III. Love Without Conflict, P 7
7 It has never really entered your mind to give up every idea you ever had that opposes knowledge. You retain thousands of little scraps of fear that prevent the Holy One from entering. Light cannot penetrate through the walls you make to block it, and it is forever unwilling to destroy what you have made. No one can see through a wall, but I can step around it. Watch your mind for the scraps of fear, or you will be unable to ask me to do so. I can help you only as our Father created us. I will love you and honor you and maintain complete respect for what you have made, but I will not uphold it unless it is true. I will never forsake you any more than God will, but I must wait as long as you choose to forsake yourself. Because I wait in love and not in impatience, you will surely ask me truly. I will come in response to a single unequivocal call.
I read this paragraph, and then I went back and read it slowly out loud. I am going to copy it and re-read it often. It has finally occurred to me that I must give up every idea that opposes knowledge. I watch my mind vigilantly for those scraps of fear that block the Holy One from entering. I ask Jesus to step around this wall of fear I have constructed and to help me undo what I have done.
If I am ready to let some false belief go, I will be aware of it and I will ask for correction. Sometimes, I have some resistance and I will pick it back up again, but I will just repeat the process. I will do this as often as it takes to convince myself that I am ready to be free of the obstructing belief. Jesus patiently waits on me to be certain this is what I want, but then he answers me and does so as often as it takes.
There are some scraps of fear that I seem to need to let go in bits. I let go a little at a time. I peel back a layer and discard it, then when I am ready, I approach it again and work on the next layer. Jesus, again, is patient with me, and works with me as I take this gentle approach. He would not want me to move faster than I can do so without causing myself to retreat into fear.
The really stubborn beliefs, the ones I am most resistant to, seem to hide behind confusion. I will think that I just don’t understand. I will be unable to find the obstructing belief. I will forget what it is I am forgiving. I will even forget how to forgive. The stories that represent the hidden beliefs may not seem like “big deals” but really, it isn’t the story that matters, but the belief that made the story. Calling it a little thing, unimportant and unworthy of my time, is just another way to hide the belief and prevent myself from asking for healing. All errors are equal, and none are bigger or worse; they are simply true or not true.
Sometimes I will ask for healing of something, and even as I ask I hear the reluctance, the lack of conviction in my voice. I hate when that happens because I don’t know what to do about it. I am trapped by my own foolish desires. That happened this morning. I asked Jesus to help me with a false belief, and I knew that I wasn’t being unequivocal, that part of me didn’t want the help. But I told Jesus that I needed help to let go of that reluctance. Then I had the thought that I know there is an ego desire to hide this scrap of fear, but I am not the ego and “I” don’t want it. “I” want to be free! I am willing to see whatever needs to be seen. Please look with me, Jesus.
I am going to stop writing this morning, and tomorrow I am going to take a second look at this paragraph.