All the confessions and apologies began a trip into the depths of remorse. Besides the side of me that needed to be right and in control, there was another side of me. A me that had set out to make myself into a good person. I realized I hadn’t accomplished that and there was no starting over.
The remorse produced a kind of spiritual despair that is indescribable. I felt an empty space inside that cried out to be filled with something good. But I could find nothing good to put into it.
The next morning a telephone call asked me to help with a funeral at my church. I said I had been quite ill and was unable to help with anything. My caller did not urge me.
As I hung up the phone, a voice came to me. It called me by name and said was its child. It told me I didn’t ever have to do another thing. That all that was intended was just for me to BE.
I heard it in my head and I experienced it all the way to my feet. All the anger and guilt and despair disappeared. And what came into the space inside was a kind of joy I never expected to experience.
I began to laugh—at the unimaginable absurdity that such a miracle should happen to me. The laughing felt wonderful. I realized I had never laughed like this before—a laughter that came from a sense of well-being throughout my entire body—and mind—and spirit. And the laughing was such fun that I kept on laughing.