Kidnapped by Life | Heavenletters

God said:

Who knows what the Truth of Life as lived in the world is about? Perhaps the best you can do at present is to flirt with life. You have not as yet come to the realization of life. You have guesses. In many cases, you run away from life. You are at a stand-off with it. You go your way, and life goes its way, and sometimes it seems that never the twain shall meet.

You have your ideas, and life has its ideas. At best, you are at a truce with life at the same time as you don’t trust it. You are wary of life, as if life is out to get you, set you back, have a sneak attack on you and take something precious away from you.

You may feel you hold on to life by a thread. You don’t know what traps life may have set for you. You simply do not know what will befall in life. You may be short of breath because you gasp at life and are concerned at what it has in store for you. You may even see life as an enemy ready to pull the carpet from under you. Life seems to work fast, a mile a minute.

In Truth, life holds you up. Yes, life takes you with it. It doesn’t give you a map. You are kidnapped by life, as it were. You are minding your own business, and life sweeps you up as the wind might sweep leaves, and leaves you somewhere else in a sudden new place or role in life. A tornado picks you up and throws you somewhere else.

It is so easy to think that life has made a mistake, perhaps mistaken you for someone else. Whether it is grief or glory that finds its way to you, you worry that life has made a mistake. In any case, from your point of view, life has no right to take you away just like that. You are content, sitting with your feet up. You are just getting used to life one way, and then life throws you a curve.

You may feel you are in an untenable position. Life holds you up in the air, suspended. You are just hovering with nothing fixed in space under you. This is how you may feel, that the carpet has been pulled from under you repeatedly, and here you are, an unwilling vagabond up a creek, not even with a knapsack to your name. You may feel that life is slippery, and that you are slipping through life’s fingers.

This is all imagined, of course. You may be terrified of life and its changeability. You simply don’t know what to make of it. It is ambivalent. One time life is kind, another time merciless. You feel you are at life’s mercy.

Sometimes it may feel to you that life hounds you, never lets you go, never lets you make your way, not very far anyway. And, then, when you see how far you have come and how much you have grown, life becomes a dream and not real at all, and, still, you flounder.

You may feel like a rose ready to blossom, and, just then, life puts a lid on you and cramps you or snips your stem, your very connection to Earth. Yet, of course, a rose is glad to be put in a glass or vase filled with water and to be adored. Roses are picked for a reason. They are hand-picked. They are chosen. They are not trampled. They are chosen for their beauty and grace, and, whatever you may think of it, so, beloveds, are you.

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