The State of the World and Humanity
The selfless will not remain selfless for long.
Selflessness, when fully embodied, requires reciprocation — or it fractures when the selfless one realizes she is naked, cold, afraid, and all the ones she gave her pieces to have vanished.
Selflessness cannot survive in a world where love does not return in its proper measure. Without reciprocity, the selfless become the needy, and another selfless one must fill them instead of tending to the ones who needed her elsewhere.
To be selfless requires complete and unshakable trust.
It is to become Christ-like in the most powerful sense this world has seen in a millennium.
The ones called to walk in constant pouring-out are driven to the edge of despair when they realize all their treasures were offered to others and their own stores are empty. And so the heart does what it must: it offers a bit of its very self to stand in the gap. That cost is paid in poor sleep, irritability, restlessness, and a desire to sleep for years — or until heaven.
The selfless soul is born to grief.
It is constantly at war with its own instinct to nurture, simply to ensure that the forgotten self is tended to at least enough to continue living.
In this world of consumers — a world that eats without paying — the selfless are last on everyone’s docket. Their goodness demands giving, even when giving is the opposite of wisdom. And the world grinds them down.
Christ-likeness begins with selflessness.
Kenosis, which we speak of often, is the active emptying of oneself in order to be filled with Yeshua and the Holy Spirit — to become more by becoming less.
The goal of the selfless is to be known as less — no self-moniker, no need to be seen, only perfect unity in perfect love, expressing the Beloved in all things.
These are my thoughts on selflessness, and I want to offer a serious warning to you as children and family:
Do not give what you cannot afford to lose and may never receive back this side of heaven.
Do not give if you cannot do it in joy, or you strip the gift of its power.
Giving must be done with discernment and deep prayer, lest we wound the one we seek to bless — or wound ourselves — by offering what we cannot afford to surrender.
The Lord will always interrupt when the gift is meant to be given.
When He moves, it is always lavish and foolish, done in secret — yes, secret, no trace, no records, hidden, given, and forgotten. Not like a tithe at church, but like using our legs to help an elderly neighbor. Or a man lifting a woman with no legs and carrying her where she cannot walk.
We have many gifts that require no dollars and no expertise.
Give within your inner circle, and they will do the same in theirs, and the giving will spread like ripples — like the aroma of Christ.
We shall consider, as always, the next meditation and the next Word.
Amen and amen.