The story of my life is the recorded collection of memorialized experiences – most which are 

reconstructed and appear to confirm the maya I struggle with. My story includes a spiritual pilgrimage 

blocked by seasons of disorientation, regret, loss, and mourning. Other seasons have been abundant with 

joys, thanksgiving, success, and breakthroughs toward deeper expressions of Christ Consciousness around 

and in me. 

My life story is a collective one where others have invested, influenced, and infused their memories with mine. Over time, the life I remember is an amalgamation of lives lived near me and reminding me of the one I have lived outside of intentional awareness and on autopilot.

As I said before, I consider my life to be a pilgrimage. A spiritual sojourn which I often self-sabotage. I realize the heavy privilege and burden that this life of mine sustains and it overwhelms me. I see how God breaks into my life transforms the twists, turns, knots, and apparent “no exits,” for me – clearing the way so I may continue ahead – despite my own devices. 

It is this feeling of sense of being overtaken by what it means to live, “not as the world expects,” that God ameliorates through the peace of Christ. As the call I chose to obey brings with it the joys, worries, and uncertainties promised by the Gospel, it is also the promised peace of Christ that provides the succor and the sustenance to remain steadfast and sitting in meditation in full confidence that the space for me to serve is provided as are the opportunities for me to see God in “my life” vibrantly act in my stead and on my behalf. 

Finally, the greatest gift I can give to God is my surrender. Mystics understand this as a sign of courage. Love’s middle name is risk as I fully know how little of my life is truly mine – because I surrender it to experience union with God. I willfully lose my life there. 


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