(61) lines, boxes, a bush on fire

Theotokos (Mother of God/God-bearer) of the Unburnt Bush


We draw the lines trying to keep the dangerous stuff out.
Thick lines of what to do and mainly what not to do
It’s supposed to keep us safe
From all that bad stuff
From evil, from sin.

Or we put all the dangerous stuff in a box and lock it
and shelve it, really high up where it can’t be reached.
Out of sight
Out of mind.

But the real problem is not locked in the box
on the top shelf of an ignored but never-forgotten closet
or trapped securely outside the wide and tidy lines

The real trouble, the real danger is within my heart.


I want to live in the bright, open spaces
with a heart exposed to the light and holy fire,
with a heart empty of pride and resentment

where lines are erased and choices made
not because of rules, of lists of “do” and “do not”
but from within love and through love and for love

And in that broad place of love and brightness
I think I may also find the truth of holiness
a way of being that is like the burning bush in Exodus
like the Virgin Mary, who carried in her body the fullness of God
to be a dwelling place of God, to be on fire, yet not consumed.

Because it just is not all about the rules.




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