Faith: A delicate thread fine as silk and strong as steel.
Belief may waver between hope and despair – faith, never.
Belief may be tested, faith is what survives the test.
Belief may develop, faith ripens.
Belief still feels the wind of ego, faith stills the wind.
I speak to my impatient, righteous indignation
as to an anguished mother:
You are not here to make the world better.
You are an agent of kindness, of light,
of ineffable joy, of God's Pleasure,
a witness to the day here and now, and hereafter.
You are an agent of awakening consciousness,
of surrender.
Don't be the pray-er, be the prayer!
Be what you would have, and you are that.
You are here to love without hope, giving hope;
without recognition, giving succor.
Be the light from which you came,
and the world will be better for it.
