God is truly amazing, coming to heal when aches are divulged, longing to be dissolved...put "out there" through desperate prayer, to connect with God in a way that only deep longing or suffering can actualize.

So, my first blog was a desperate plea...and even though I know with my whole being that God is always there, there are some moments that make for God-denial...not that my belief had changed but that my feelings had plunged to a point of desertion.  And what a desert we can create for ourselves!

But blessing does come like rain, in many forms.  And healing can take place if we let our emotional physique experience the blessing.  For me, it was a book that a good friend gave to me for Christmas:

I've just started reading In Tune With The Infinite (I'm on p. 7), and it has already given me some form of peace, explanation of my feelings, and healing.  How wonderful a feeling, when one reads another's words, and lets these words work as a balm, taking in the wisdom...letting it soak into the very soul.  Here is an excerpt that has made me feel that my heartache can be healed:

"All are...

because of unrequited love, loss of love or a loved one.  The heart really does ache, like it's going to burst, to the point where you just can't stand it.

My heart ached today...for reasons I've been trying to comprehend, and have yet to do so.  Aching for dreams, opportunities passed or unrealized...aching for this desperate need to fix what's wrong with the world...aching for those who hunger, thirst...those who are oppressed, those who have no voice to make the wrong known to others...aching for war-torn places and people.

Funny...but not funny.  How can my heart not ache, as I drive my own vehicle to wherever I need to go, passing lovely homes and manicured lawns...being passed by shiney cars, racing for who knows where?  How can my heart not ache when, at the same time, in other places, people are walking miles just for food or medicine...people running for their lives?

When I was in NYC a few years ago, and visiting outreach programs around the city, I had a man on the subway say to me, "Why do you look like the weight of the world is on your shoulders?  You shouldn't be so sad."  I smiled at him but said...