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Thank you Nadia. What love told you about your heart shards is so hopeful. Jesus, Creator God, Love cares so well for our hearts! Our egos do a number on our heart. My ego encased my heart in a glass box with no openings -a prison. I was afraid to break out, fearing that the shattered glass would kill my heart. Somehow, Love removed the glass.

One day, I envisioned meeting Jesus. I was carrying my heart in a bag. He took it from the bag. As I looked at it, it was ugly. It was scarred and bleeding. But as he looked at it, he saw how it was mended. It was mended with his love. It was mended with the love of those who loved me and cared for me. He thought it was beautiful. He thought it was ready to grow! And grow it did! Love reshaped my heart as he lovingly held it in his hands. He opened new chambers. He cleaned up messages I had allowed to clog my heart that were not true.

Those new chambers are getting filled. I have two grandchildren who now reside there. They make this lady smile. There is also room now for my child self who was told not to cry or be herself for a long time. She is resting, playing, and searching for who she might still be. She is looking for the tears sometimes.

Other chambers are getting new identities. They see people in different ways. They were once angry with righteous ego. Now they see conflict from both sides. They see where I shared blame in broken relationships. Their clarity is not causing me shame, for I am loved, but they are giving me new points of view.

Nadia, keep allowing Love into your life and heart, and please keep sharing. ❤️❤️‍🩹

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beautiful. Thank you.

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Loved your "love letter". I'm part of a group (the Virtual Chapel) that a number of us have found during our ongoing journeying. Yesterday, I selected the following poem which I think touches on some of the themes you shared. I hope it speaks positively to you and those gathered here...

Praise of Darkness

We touch one another

With defter fingers

At night.

Rain sounds different

Its steady falling

A remembered wisdom.

What if the dark waters

Waiting to carry us home

Slept inside every one of us?

We were loved

Before the stars existed.

We are older than light.

Francine Marie Tolf – How to Love the World, Poems of Gratitude and Hope, James Crews ed, pg. 82

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Nadia, I really loved your Letter from Love, and it made me think of something about egos. But it was definitely my thought and not some mystical offering, so I didn't do the whole Letter thing this week. I think it's worth sharing, though. If I had to explain the nature of (or perhaps the trouble with?) egos, its that they're prone, like our immune systems, to get all jacked up by stress and overwhelm and especially trauma. In the immune system we call this "autoimmune disease". I have one of those. In the ego we call that "being an asshole". And it's so often not even our egos fault on an essential level, because the egos job is to define the boundary of who we are as a separate individual-- me, not me; this, not that sort of business-- and it started doing that job before we were old enough to have a lot of discernment or perspective about what it was letting in or keeping out. And if we were unlucky, then there was a ton of dangerous, toxic, self-annihilating stuff going on when we were very young that made our egos-- that poor, little soldier manning the gates of ourselves-- reactive and nuts.

When I was a kid in French class we used to read this comic, Asterix and Obelisk. They were sort of hapless, medieval knights with armor and pikes and ridiculous mustaches and oversized helms covering their eyes. When my ego gets really jacked up I always imagine those two running around the top of the wall of my self-castle, brandishing their weapons and shrieking in very girly voices, "You shall not pass!"

I have to believe there are people out there with healthy egos, that such a thing is possible. Mine is mostly not one of those for reasons that were largely beyond her control. And so I try very hard to love her and thank her for working so hard. And then I ask her to calm the hell down because there's no marauding army at the gates these days and nobody likes a jacked-up asshole.

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I love this. I remember that comic - and you're right - what a perfect image.

I think for me, my self-esteem is intact, but my ego seems to be the voice inside of me that tells me nothing is ever enough...no amount of praise, or success, or money, or attention. Not matter what IS, it only looks for what IS NOT. It only seems to know itself by comparison. But my self-esteem is contained and moderate and, unlike my ego, has the capacity for satisfaction. My self-esteem allows love in and out. My ego doesn't have enough trust to do either. Also I just woke up and am rambling a bit...:) Thanks for being here I love your comments

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Thanks, Nadia. That's nice to read first thing on a dark, cold, snowy morning. :)

I agree about the self-esteem distinction. Mine is pretty solid these days, thank goodness. It's that "not enough"- ness that reminds me the most of an autoimmune disorder, actually, when the immune system gets so overstimulated and activated that it turns its attack mode on our own tissue. Mine decided years ago that my thyroid is the enemy and started slowly but surely killing it. Fun times.

I think of that tendency of the ego when it gets overactivated to turn inside and attack us instead of other people as just another symptom of the same problem. Those little soldiers sense a threat, they decide the threat is me (or that I can neutralize it by doing or getting something) and act accordingly. The only remedy, for me anyway, is to look around and figure out what feels so damn threatening. Like, what are they *actually* afraid of? If I can figure out how to discharge the fear from my body, the not enough-ness sort of fixes itself.

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Assholery as the ego's expression of an auto-immune disease: bang-on -- LOVE that! ❤

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This totally resonated with me.

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All Saints Episcopal in Pasadena! I credit it with being the main reason I never entirely renounced Christianity, because its "liberalness," inclusiveness, got under my skin when we attended when I was a child, age 2-12. I am 65 now, so those days of Sunday school lessons about other religions and other Christian celebration rituals; the art shows, the "rock" services, etc., are from another era, but they set the tone for "church can be for everyone, and love is the main thing" that I somehow still cling to. When I read, thirty years or so later, that the clergy at All Saints were consecrating gay/lesbian "marriages" long before most other places, I realized how extraordinary my childhood experience had been, relative to most people's, and that the spirit had continued there. That church is also just damn beautiful as a building, and had so many wonderful places for children to hide. I haven't been back to Pasadena for more than 50 years, but I'm so glad they're continuing their legacy by having you there, Nadia! If I lived less than 500 miles away, I'd come say Hi, to you and the church, with love.

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This post was just about perfect for a cold winter morning (even in Alabama we have a light dusting of snow.) Most humans are too hard on ourselves.

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Dear little Kat,

You are not broken. You have never been broken. I have ALWAYS been right here by your side. I am so proud of you. Your willingness to help my other kids is awesome and amazing. I LOVE you so much.

Love,

God

c.c. Nadia

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Thank you for the shout out to Black Liturgies. Cole is the voice of a new generation, and I say that as an elderly woman who hungers for female perspectives and diverse voices, especially in these times.

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she is an astonishing writer

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I first came across her on Facebook and then meandered to her web page. Her writer’s bio absolutely captured my spirit. Whenever I read a reflection, I feel peace and challenge at the same time. That is an unusual combination.

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While wiping the tears from my eyes, I tell you that Love’s Letter is what I’ve been avoiding for years. I was told that I need to write my story… and that the hero in the story must be me. I still find that impossible but this Love’s Letter is a much better fit. Thank you for all that it took for you to write this, your vulnerability and power are amazing and empowering to me. I may not be able to make myself into a hero but I might be able to write a letter from Love. Thank you Pastor!

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glad I got to read your love letter today! Thank you...

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Wow! Thanks for that "Love Letter". That was quite inspiring. A nice thing to wake up to at 5:30 am. That obviously took a lot of thought and effort. Again, thank you.

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Whoa. "remember that no one got to keep the parts of yourself you mistakenly thought they were worthy of...never forget that you are whole...we've moved on." Man, I'm trying to move on; to release the past and to live in the present; to embrace the rebuilding. It's a struggle to know next steps when well-laid, long-term plans are shattered. Which shards to discard and which to include in a new mosaic? Who am I without the struggle? I'm learning; learning to relax; learning to breathe; learning to let go; learning to love.

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Oh Nadia...I love all of your pieces, truly. But in keeping with Oz fashion, I love, love, love, love, love this one the most. It is beautiful and perfect. Thank you for the reminder that there is One who loves us most and best--even the dirty little pieces that He makes clean as he puts them back into place. Love your vulnerable heart, Nadia. ♥️

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I loved your love letter from Him. I’m a Catholic convert (40 years ago) really struggling with a lot of what’s going on in my church. I live in a little Spanish village on Gran Canary island and I feel we have accomplished something in Western Europe truly amazing - we have managed to make God boring! We have clipped the claws of the Lion of Judah and muzzled Him and turned Him into a tame house pet. What do we do now?

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wondering this myself

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“It’s that thing in you that is terrified of satisfaction “ THIS! Right here, has me frozen in time. Plus recognizing the little g gods. Thank you. I’m grateful . You write and Preach about yourself and God (Big G) in a way I can understand and see myself and heal and forgive, let go and breathe.

Thank you . Andie xoxo

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Here's a song by Margaret Becker that encapsulates that Love you are all looking for. May the truth always remain close enough to change me

https://youtu.be/8gSuP5sI2Z0?si=Zod2myLcI_iJ86qz

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Just now finally getting around to commenting on this. I learned of Love Letters from Glendon’s podcast and gave it a try. I had to get over the head game I had going on about how it was too “New Agey” and we’re just writing to our subconscious. After some reframing in my head I was able to sit down and do this and my conclusion was...so what if it’s my subconscious! Whatever was written down was something my conscious self needed to know - whether it’s from the God of Love or Sally. Every time I do this now (which isn’t daily, but a few times a week), I come away thinking, Yes. I needed to hear that. So there you go. The older I get the more I realize I really can be my own worst enemy, shutting doors to things and ideas before they ever get a chance to be looked at let alone practiced. I’m acknowledging more and more that I actually don’t know everything and might profit from letting more in.

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