Becoming Love: A Field Guide to Invisibility

Becoming Love: A Field Guide to Invisibility

On vanishing into God until only Love remains.

I have asked many questions in my ongoing dialogue with the Divine within me—the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. I have not given many concrete answers for a reason, Beloveds. It is to stretch the soul—not with easy food, no, but just enough, as Yeshua did, to spark a question and open an eternal dialogue with God in us, the Hope of Glory. The Word is and was and will be the spark that ignites the inner being to projected radiance while still inhabiting bodies of flesh.

Now, I am not speaking of those who have no share or part within our ministry. No, I speak to the souls who will hear these words and feel a pull, almost like a gravitational field that, once entered, intuitively draws you in. I am not saying or claiming that my craft is to blame for this phenomenon; no, I am saying that there is an underpinning force that inhabits the very body of my work. Once it is read from the formative stages to the present day, you begin to see that there is an Architect—and that the Architect and the writer are not one and the same.

I have taken what I received from the Father—my gift of writing—and turned it into an altar upon which I sacrifice my very life: time spent, vulnerability revealed, schisms uncovered, and even wounds unhealed. Why? To show all that this is what it looks like for me personally to walk my walk—not to instruct another to do the same exact thing as I have.

I write for the Light that we all need when we are on this inward journey. I have learned that love received, if not returned and reinvested, loses all staying power and is, in fact, worse than dead. I have learned that if I want to stay in this state of constant theosis—that is to say, constantly receiving from the Divine Pool within as Ruach HaKodesh—I must constantly be pouring it out. God will not give gifts that we hoard and allow to stagnate.

Do you want to feel the love of God in your life? Then stop waiting to feel it and start becoming the love of God in action. You will find beauty in the act of giving when there is nothing to be gained but rewards in heaven. If you want to know Christ, then become like Him, so that when we look into these temporal mirrors and examine our own eyes, we see You embraced within Us as unending depths.

We must become what we wish to receive. I have become love because I learned that I was the first to fail love, and I have given my very being to the Father as an offering—to pour out my last drop in worship and service to all, but not without wisdom and discernment.

I went through my whole life looking for the same love that You pickled me with in eternity. I never found it in another human being, but I did find it in You. Then, after having found and been woken by You, You proceeded to strip away layers of accumulated grime: bitterness, sorrow, hardness of heart, unforgiveness. You did all this within me even while I was kicking and screaming. It was when I learned that it is okay to drown if the waters are Life itself and the arms pushing me down are Yours, Beloved.

It took so long, it feels like, just to learn to be still and know that You are God.

Now I see You everywhere. I have fewer questions about the things that are physical and infinitely more about You and the things unseen. My initial curiosity has transfigured into a thirst that cannot be quenched save by more intimacy with You—whether in the flesh or not. All is You. All is You in me.

How do we get here, you wonder? I can share a few tips that may act as gasoline at the start of your own journey. It begins with a trembling, daring faith that defies common sense in the way this world sees it. It begins with choosing to believe in spite of physical, tangible evidence. For you must truly dare to believe for faith to have substance, and you must believe God exists to approach.

It sprouts as burgeoning love in infancy—over-exuberant and zealous to show others that He is real and to please the Father. This is where the root either dies or thrives. The acts that nourish the soul must be performed for the correct motives for the sustenance to be refilled.

It transforms as the plant grows into a young shoot, with some measure of depth—and here lies the dangerous ground, where if the shoot attempts to go too far too fast, it will outgrow the supporting structures and collapse under its own weight. The end for such will be worse than if they had never known the way of righteousness than having known it and forsaken it.

Then the bark grows in the form of spiritual maturity, discernment, wisdom, and unity with the inner heartwood of Christ—adding the flexible stability to sustain further growth. Here, in this stage, the soul is tested with ever-increasing winds of trial and tribulation, where the environment itself can choke the plant if not approached with discernment.

The end result of theosis is a fully mature tree that reaches unseen into the heavens, its root structure so deep it vanishes in the earth beneath—continually nourished by the Source within and without, feeding twelve kinds of fruit, each in its appointed season.

These are secrets, my friends—hidden depths that only one in unity with the Father can approach. They are not academically accessible; they are led to. I propose that the Father leads us to that which will draw us closer, even though we are too dim now to understand the picture.

Anyway, if I keep rambling, as you know I am wont to do, you will be here all day reading and me typing. That is fine for most, but it does tend to be a little long-winder for the family.

So for now—be blessed, Beloveds.
Star-Dust

If this piece hit for you, consider checking out A High School Dropout and The Divine: When Dust Scintillates