On Holy Sacrifice

It is one thing to give up and leave dead things behind.

To come to the natural end of what is and recognize that there is no longer any fruit or any nourishment and to leave it, for the betterment of all. This is a natural ending. Leaving in this way doesn’t require bravery, and despite grief in any type of ending, it’s easier and softer.

But what about things still alive, still breathing and consistently calling to your heart and soul? Things with life-giving potential wanting to burst forth, a sobering knowing in your body, a rightness in your spirit, a sacred love that you may have waited for and prayed for– but living in a boundary or confine that refuses its full blossoming?

Those moments, paths, relationships, visions, and dreams that, for whatever heartbreaking yet legitimate reason, cannot be?

This is a different type of letting go, something that I now understand to be what sacrifice really is and means.

When faced with grief of an impossibility, it can be a normal reaction to try to analyze, outthink, downplay, or villainize people, situations, and experiences. We need to characterize and place people and circumstances into easy sorting boxes for faster processing. Especially in a culture that is used to instant gratification and doesn’t like to sit with processes, pain, or time.

Why not just decide what something or someone is, throw it in that labeled box, and then move on?
Sometimes we will find actual answers in these places. Sometimes things are not right or aligned. Sometimes there is a mismatch in a desire and reality. Sometimes projection blinds us. Wisdom and discernment can help us sort appropriately.

But occasionally, the Divine orchestrates a meeting, and you cannot escape the holiness and reverence required of you to sacrifice it with a pure heart, in faith and trust.

You may wrestle with God for as long as it takes — bringing logic, analysis, and blame before the holy altar, time and time again, only to find that it will not be accepted.

Peace will not be given in exchange for these.

Nothing except the truth will be accepted in a holy meeting like this. You will not be released until you come with it, in humility and reverence.

Unfortunately, sometimes the living truth can feel more painful than death: sometimes something that is real, true, pure, and meaningful must be let go of, surrendered, and sacrificed.

And what if this is the entire point? It’s not about learning. It’s not even about the letting go.

It’s about the purifying process that happens when you come to the end of logic, blame, fear, and labels.

It’s about the sanctification that is required to fully look up from separation and see the Divine’s shining face of Mystery and still choose to trust it.

There’s nothing to dismiss in a place like this. There’s nothing to be done except to take the gift that has been given and hold it with sacred respect and accept what is being asked– to let it go and give it back.

To offer up what’s in your hands and heart, with trust and faith, somehow.
To give up something meaningful to a holier place, a peaceful place, and a truer place.
To let it live on in a place where it can exist and blossom, even if that means letting go of the possibility of it here.