The first time I met Jesus it was quite a surprise. Having never been to church or had the slightest interest in religion, I did not expect Jesus to be a part of my life. But one day, while I sat in meditation, he just showed up.
First I heard his name. How odd I thought, that this name should just appear in my mind. And then I knew what the name meant. I felt it. It was pure, forgiving love, parental and reassuring. It had a very particular frequency. This was different from God, or universe, or source, words I was more familiar with. This had a more human quality, more personal. It was as if I had a perfect parent looking out at me with total love and acceptance. It was so soothing. In his presence, I was calm. Everything was okay. I could stop trying so hard. I was loved and that was it. And that was everything. I came out of the meditation feeling pleasantly bewildered. How strange… Jesus? … really?
Over the next few days I couldn’t stop thinking about him. Whenever I brought him to mind I felt wrapped in a golden light. Soothed, content, lifted. I kept it to myself. I talked about spirituality often but I’d always been careful not to sound ‘religious’. I thought religion was for fools. I looked down on it. I thought the people I knew and respected would think less of me if I were to bring HIM up.
Religion is nothing to be ashamed of, but it also never sat right with me. I didn’t like the rules and the specificity. No one religion seemed to me to have all the answers. I finally spoke to a friend about my experience and she voiced what I felt within, that ‘Jesus’ is not a religion, he is a presence, a being, a teacher, a man. The religion came after him. They are not one and the same. The very fact that Jesus showed himself to me during a meditation should tell you that he does not need us to be Christian in order to feel his love. Religion is a sanctuary for many but it can also be confining and problematic. It would be such a shame for the doctrine of men to get in the way of such a wonderful feeling, connection, love.
A week or so later, I was feeling very heavy (I talk about my experience with chronic fatigue in other posts). When I get this way, it makes me feel disappointed and afraid. The more fear I have, the heavier I get, until I am shut down, often for days and weeks at a time. I was in a state of desperation, when I finally thought to ask for help. I instinctively clasped my hands together and I called out in my mind, Jesus, help me please. Suddenly, my breathing deepened, I felt my chest expand and my body shift. I pulled back my shoulders as if trying to ease out stiff muscles. And then, the fatigue was gone. Not forever, not for good, but for the moment, and for the rest of the day. It had moved through me and released, or perhaps relaxed. I was shocked, and also, not surprised. I knew the power of Jesus’ loving energy, I had felt it. I won’t say that he healed me, but that he showed me his love, and that this love was the key to healing.
Now, I conjure him up several times a day. Instead of simply bringing myself into the present moment as was my habit, I bring the idea and the feeling of him into my consciousness. And it is like peace plus joy. Pretty wonderful. I don’t know how long I can keep him in my heart and mind, whether he is here for a season or if he is to be a lifelong companion. But for now, I am determined to revel in being so purely loved and how much I can love all that is around me when I feel he is near.
I have questions and doubts. Part of me resists. I don’t want to be beholden to anyone, even the son of God. I have worked hard to develop my own intuition and at times I doubt whether I should be asking his advice rather than my own, as if the two were separate. There is a wisdom here that I am lacking and a fear that I will have to submit myself (yet again). Knowing him as I do, I cannot think he would want anything but the best for me. Perhaps he is a part of me rather than an external force. I do not yet know.
For now, I only seek to deepen my relationship with him and to enjoy my life with his presence. I am writing this now in order to start that process more formally, the first thoughts about it that I have committed to the page. I am more nervous to upload this post than any so far, and if you have read my previous posts you will understand how vulnerable this is for me. My resistance however, points to its significance. And I do not want to be silenced. Perhaps he is here only to help me in my pain, or perhaps I am supposed to share my story with you so that you might also feel something of his love.
My heart is so full. I have a husband who loves me and now I have another great love to help me heal. Is this how people who grew up with loving parents feel? That they are held, supported and able to love themselves, able to take risks, fall down, and still know that everything will be alright? It’s the kind of love I always longed for. And now that I’ve felt it, I know what loss and loneliness I had in my life before, not being in the warmth it provides.
I did not ask him to visit, I just gave myself the time and space and rest, and then, he came to me. His spirit was just what I needed, the loving parent I never had. And so my advice to you is not to seek him out, but to get quiet and to listen inward, and then the guide that is right for you, be it Mohammed, Buddha, Shiva, Jesus or Mother Nature, will find you.
If there is one thing I want you to take from what I write, it is that you are loved completely, just as you are, and always have been and always will be. You are not alone. All will be well.
The Slow Down Kid 