The Barton Method - A Heart Surrendered
I feel like a baby crawling in a world I’m trying to make sense of. Fifty three and reduced to an innocent, in the best of ways. Humbled by the life and death all around me. Brought to my knees once again. A quiet place in my heart where the slate is wiped clean and I come with humility and honest questions. A child, a bit timid but willing to learn, willing to be shown the way. At this moment I truly feel I know nothing. Perhaps this is the place where miracles are born; an open space for love to show me the way as I lay all that’s come before down. My hands are empty. I wait in the quiet for what may emerge. I am willing to listen, to really listen.
I wanted the world to fit into a nice tidy little box so I’d feel safe. Wanted to have an explanation for everything. I’ve come to learn the world doesn’t work that way. I stand, a drop before an ocean, humbled before a larger universe the ego cannot explain away. A tender, raw heart wanting to know she’s held by Mighty arms. The longing to feel safe in a world that can seem out of control. I breathe, then breathe again. Sometimes that’s what it comes down to. One breath, then another, like life is a series of moments; here’s one, and now, and now.
I have been a dedicated woman. An honest searching out of truth since I was a girl, yet here I am in my fifties feeling like a leaf gently blowing in the wind. I let go, loosening my grip on the world around me, relaxing the clinging, the attachments. One part scared as hell, one part freeing. Perhaps a greater love will support me as I let go.
I feel the presence of my own Spirit fill the room. My heart quickens; could this be me? Gratitude floods my being. I hear God ask, “Will you follow Me?” I sense with this question He is asking me to leave behind my thoughts, stories, unforgiveness, expectations, the past. It’s a beautiful question that my heart wants to say yes to though there’s a moments’ hesitation. Strange, clinging to the familiar, to the known, even if the known doesn’t always serve me. It’s familiar, we trust the familiar. This sense of loss in letting go of what’s known is a shadow across the face of God I would have no longer. I answer YES to my Creator.
I think of my brother. He may go into the hospital tomorrow and I am in California with a friend in critical condition who almost died a night ago. God asks again, “Will you follow Me?” I know He is asking, “Will you trust Me?” I want to but I also know I want a certain outcome so I struggle with this question. I’ve been here before, many times, watching loved ones get sick and pass on. “Will you trust Me?” a loaded question to the ego. What do I trust now? A question that bears honest searching. Chaos? That life is unstable? That I can’t count on anything? That I am not safe? Oh my heart, I hate to see this revealed. I feel shame. “I want to trust you,” I whisper back, “but I’m afraid. How do I trust that I am safe?” “By letting go,” He says softly. I think, “Oh God, not that again.” But I know in my heart, yes that again and again and again. I hold on for dear life. I let go. Hopefully, I will learn to spend more time in the letting go until that is my natural response to life as it unfolds, the joys and the sorrows, being able to answer His question, “Will you trust Me?” with an unequivocal YES!