The invitation is to turn toward God. Whether you are with others or alone, to enter into the silence and solitude of your heart, and turn toward God. In that turning comes transformation; slowly like a deep seep, or breathless in a swirling rush. Like a whisper, a shout, a vibrant silence, it comes.
As you sit in the heart of the crucible, at some point you know – you know – that your heart has been changed. You are offered healing, forgiveness, wholeness, grace. You know this gift is yours – utterly complete, utterly gift.
And you know, too, that this gift is for all. As you are given the gift, you are a bearer of the gift. That is not, of course, a condition of the gift, that you bear it to others in the human state of need and longing. It is the gift’s nature, that it be given not once but innumerable times over to the lost, the aching, the helpless, the outsiders. To us all in our alienation and loneliness.
And in the giving is the Kin-dom of God ushered in.