Little Altars Everywhere
We Are Never Separate from Love
No, God does not live inside a Church.
I mean, God doesn’t NOT live inside a church.
But God could never, ever, fit inside a church. Or a religion. Or a law.
God is the wildest Love, the deepest, widest, most unbridled wave, the deepest cave, the flickering light in my toddler’s eye, the smell of my beloved’s neck. I know this, not because someone told me or because the Church says it’s true, or because the government places it in recommended schedules. I know it because the wild rivers of my blood pulse in harmonic recognition when I feel it.
God is wild, true, Love. An anchor. A pillar. A rock.
God is unnameable, and only truly named in metaphor, in poetry, in song.
God is everywhere.
And so let us build little altars everywhere.
Recently, I have been journeying deep with the intersection of Christ and the Earth (and by recently, I mean a long while). And I know, deep in my body, that the place where these two are woven, is my work in this life.
Right there.
Right there.
Right there.
Where God could never not be.
It is a matter of utmost importance because when we don’t know this, we are inevitable chasing our tails to find God. We are forever seeking a place outside of this one, a body more holy, a religion more true, a heaven more holy.
But Christ said, “Tetelestai! It is FINISHED!” Meaning, GOD IS UPON EVERY CELL OF THIS EARTH. Do we believe this or not?
And every indigenous lineage I know, believes this. That God, that Good, that Light is in ALL things.
And our job, our devotion, our love, our work, is to contact it, to see it, to feed it., to receive it, to open our whole bodies and souls to let it flow, in and all around us.
But do we believe this or not?
How does the world change when we do?
And how do our bodies change when we don’t?
And how do you find God when you know it is everywhere?
And how do you find it when you don’t?
In many ways, I have tried to make my work other than this.But this is the only work. This is the only prayer I am living anymore. The only prayer I am praying, and living, is— can I find, be, open, recieve, and feel the LOVE that is here?
Of course! Once I do! Once I do!
There is infinite flow, and work, and creation, and word to be born through me. God is a God of Creation, and there is a wild, infinite, bounteous flow of Life waiting to be. borne through me when I become a vessel.
And there is bounteous creativity, eros, compassion, wisdom, and magic (!) ready to be borne through you, when you remember, too!
This memory, of the God that is everywhere, always, is the gift of the embodied woman. In the kitchen, in the studio, in the Home. She says, and chooses, and knows, that God is right here, at the stove, and in the lullabye, and in the garden. There is so much God in the garden! But is is a feminine face of God, or a feminine doorway to God. Remember? God can’t only be in a church, or a monks’ cave, or a Heaven! WHat kind of God would that be?
This memory is a gift of Motherhood. Of Home. And the long, slow, wild, winding descent from the towers and holy places on High.
I know now, that Love is EVERYWHERE — when I can remember to remember. I don’t ever have to go anywhere to find it.
And I have never felt more full of this Love.
So, here in the deep South, where the treads of religion and the patriarchy run deep, I sing this prayer. I sing a prayer to the stones, and the rivers, and the plants and the caves. I pray in the sweat lodge, at the stove, in ceremony.
And I steady my voice at the ones who jeer, who fear, who steer this Love away.
The ones who are convinced that Love comes only from Heaven, through a man, and into churches.
I am learning to steady my heart, my voice and my womb.
NO, I say. God is here within me, everywhere, all around me, beating in my bones and blood, in my lullaby, on this Earth, now. This love lives within me, and I am making little altars to it everywhere.
I am making little altars on the banks of rivers, on the kitchen counter, on the pelvis of my beloved, and the chest of my son. I am making altars of herbs, and starlight, and song. I am making altars of the sacred Earth, of the indigenous medicines, of the buffalo drum. Of Mary, and Magdalene, and Christ, born onto desert sand.
And I am making little altars everywhere.
Because that is where God is.
If you need the Eye of Love upon your life this winter, book a session here.
