Thanks, Jack

I woke up this morning and noticed quietness in my mind.

Hey!  That little irritating Old Judge God was gone.  Gone.

Recently he had morphed from a sad, black-frocked stern judge

into a strict and insane referee wearing a smelly black-and-white-striped shirt.

Well, no crazy referee will monitor my moves today.  He’s gone.

I tolerated this imagined guy for over sixty years.  For forty of those years

I denied him, though he kept on judging me.  For the last twenty years

I mostly let him nag, let him be, didn’t fight with him or take him seriously.

But Heaven knows he was a bother.  Today he is gone. Gone!

I breathe better now, feel lighter, am more present to my holy self.

Ahhh.  His little black-and-white self is off my inner field.

His game is over.  Now I can play my heart out.

 

I’ve been reading a book called Eternal Life: A New Vision by Bishop Spong.

Reading it destroyed the last dim-witted vestiges of my childhood god.

It’s as though Jack Spong came in my mind last night as I slept, told the guy

he was out of order and sent him off my field.  Thanks, Jack.

I’ll plant flowers there today.  I am more grateful than I can say.

 

c. Mary Feagan, 2013

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