Early on this particular morning, a cold day in December, -2 degrees Fahrenheit, I sit down to read the day's Lesson, 346, Today the peace of God envelops me, and I forget all things except His Love.
Father, I wake today with miracles
correcting my perception of all things.
And so begins the day I share with You
as I will share eternity, for time
has stepped aside today. I do not seek
the things of time, and so I will not look
upon them. What I seek today transcends
all laws of time and things perceived in time.
I would forget all things except Your Love.
I would abide in You, and know no laws
except Your law of love. And I would find
the peace which You created for Your Son,
forgetting all the foolish toys I made
as I behold Your glory and my own.
And when the evening comes today, we will
remember nothing but the peace of God.
For we will learn today what peace is ours,
when we forget all things except God's Love.
After reading the Lesson very slowly, sitting here enveloped by peace, I look up and study the yellow twisty twirly hanging in front of the window, absolutely covered with ice, the frozen water having dripped down to a very small point, catching the golden sunlight.
I sit transfixed, experiencing the reflection of my peaceful mind, and then, and then, a thought enters in, shattering the peaceful moment.
This is the thought: "If this house were insulated properly, there wouldn't be icicles."
Am I insane, or what? Are we all insane?
I went on thinking that the heat burns through the ceiling, pushes through the roof, and forms ice dams that melt into icicles, causing high heating bills for natural gas.
So, of course, the Lesson is perfect. I haven't even left my house, and I need a miracle.
Father, I wake today with miracles correcting my perception of all things. And so begins the day I share with You as I will share eternity, for time has stepped aside today.
For a moment, time, indeed, had stepped aside today. But then, it suddenly intruded with a vengeance.
I do not seek the things of time, and so I will not look upon them.
Just then, my wife, Christine, came into the room, and I told her what was going on. I said that now I would sit quietly and ask for help to try to regain my peace, and then look at the icy twirly again.
She said, "Too late."
She was right. I was asking for an outcome based on what "I" wanted. I was not asking to be in eternity with God. I was making the common mistake of asking God for help on my terms.
I do not seek the things of time, and so I will not look upon them.
The answer to a prayer does not lie in things at all.
I would forget all things except Your Love.
And now it flashed on my mind how Jesus is so exacting in his use of words to train our minds to see differently. Dear Reader, look at the word would, above. As I put on my English teacher's hat, I am going to remind you that this is the "conditional tense" of the verb. Using this tense, instead of, say, the future, "will," reminds me that what I experience is conditional on the choice I make between God's Love and fear.
I would abide in You, and know no laws except Your law of love.
If I were successful in forgetting all things, I would abide in God and finding peace, I would transcend the world. Experiencing transcendence is conditional on the choice I make. In every moment I am choosing to invest, either in God, or in thoughts that have no source in Reality. And, of course, there is really no choice at all. There is only God's perfection.
And I would find the peace which You created for Your Son, forgetting all the foolish toys I made as I behold Your glory and my own.
And now I sit and experience peace and open my eyes and see, or rather, experience the peace in the reflection I gaze upon, mirroring the peace in my mind, looking through "things."
And when the evening comes today, we will
remember nothing but the peace of God.
For we will learn today what peace is ours,
when we forget all things except God's Love.
