Falling Into The Arms Of Redemptive Love

I consider it to be a courageous act to give and receive love in its purest form. Love that is untethered to something or to someone. Love that exists as its own entity, as a healing and rejuvenating force that lives and breathes in the space between two heartbeats. Love from spirit, with spirit, as one. 

To feel and embrace the ecstasy of surrender is a delicious and inspiring invitation that is often met with trepidation and reticence.  Yet when I lean into the mystery and majesty of divine love, I am less seduced by the desire to want to control what will transpire. Such moments of deep surrender call forth the sacred matrimony that exists between trust and acceptance.

People have asked me what it feels like to let go and fall into the arms of redemptive love. I often tell them that claiming redemptive love calls me to say “I Do” to the act of surrendering to what lies within the space of the unknown. I liken the expertise to what it may feel like to a trust fall into a never-ending abyss, something that may never become comfortable yet supports me in growing the love that exists within and without. In those moments of fear where I am consumed with wondering whether there will be something or someone there to catch me when I fall, the arms of redemptive love claim me.

Standing naked before the altar of redemptive love, I am thirsty to discover the ways in which it wants to continue transforming my mind, my body, my health, my future. What a sacred act it is to allow it to penetrate the deepest part of me and give birth to the song of my heart that has yet to be sung. A song of freedom. A song of pure exuberant joy. A song of blissful sorrow. A song that speaks the yearning of a thousand years and of a thousand generations. It is here in this place of refuge that I am able to gain greater access to the orgasmic joy that lies within the fine details of every moment.

I figure it can’t hurt to continue trying to shed my skin, to further quiet the animal instinct within that reflexively drives me to say and do anything that will help me preserve my sense of self by steering clear of anything or anyone that has the ability to wound this already tender heart.  

To my lover here, there, and everywhere, I say:

Go ahead. Break this heart. Break it open wide so it can expand and rest further in love’s sacred bliss.

Shalom