What appears to be all there is to “me” but really isn’t reminds me of an image I used in one of my earlier books. I described wheeling around a broad curve into a downhill straightaway on the mountainous road to Payson. In this race downhill, for just a few seconds, it appears as if the car is going to slam into the next mountain, landing on top of a huge junk pile of wrecked cars with other foolish drivers.
As silly as that sounds, this misperception is not unlike what our natural life appears to be now. As we speed through our days and years, blinded by everything except our physical existence, we start to imagine ourselves traveling full speed toward a brick wall called death. We see ourselves smashing into that wall, following all of humanity into oblivion, another kind of junk pile.
But God created each of us with a greater life than this “brick wall” inevitability. And He placed within us the capacity to see and appreciate that larger, stronger, calmer life—right here, right now. Opening ourselves to the spirit of Jesus, the Christ spirit in our heart, makes it possible for us to step back from this temporary, appearance of life. But first we must be willing to open our hands and let go.
We must abandon the self-interest and self-focus of what we proudly thought was our particular life. As Jesus tells us, “Whoever tries to preserve their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life will preserve it” (CEB Luke 17:33). As we change our perception of who we are, instead of seeing an impassable wall at the end of our years, we’ll see our path continuing on. This frees us to live now in confidence, to be content and at peace. Comforted.
Here see your hands, Here wiggle your feet. Here lies your heart, Feel its every beat. This is our life, Appearing to be All that we’ll know, All there is to “me.” (Living Calm 2016)