Holiday: Day 12


Last day.  Time to come home.

In years past this day would be one of sadness.  Would have been counted-down to.   Of leaving this fun-heaven and returning to mundane-obligation and duty.  Always with the bravado of “got to go back to work to pay for the next holiday.”

Yet there has been – and is – no sadness, no countdown, no bravado today.  Out of the blue, GSHJ invited me to ponder a parable

The parable of the bags of love gold  – The master,  The servants.  The different number of bags.  The work.  The return.  The measuring.  The judgement.  The reward.  The punishment.  But not like “that” – not as I was taught.

GSHJ drew these past twelve days together with this parable of bags of gold love.  And “how much” gold love being about my expectation of risk.

The expectation of risk that my bag of gold love might not be returned – might be wasted.  That my bag of gold love might be taken and not returned.  That my store of gold love might be used by others – that I may be worn out and empty of gold love.

What I take home today is this: Gold love burns bright (or burns out) according to my expectation of return risk.

Because we came here expecting “love”.

Not the love of a lover – but the love of ease, of affection, of laughter, of conversation, of a moment, of an hour or day.  With those we meet, those we pass, those we sit with for a moment or hour.  We “brought our love” each day – and we have been “met with love” each day.

And we return home today expecting love.  The love of family, of work, of friends, of those we speak with for a minute or an hour.

The thing I take back with me today is the gift of expectation.  That when I expect to be met with love my risk level is low, my gold burns bright, and my “bag of gold” will multiply.  When I expect to be met without love I bury my bag where it cannot be shared and that gradually shrinks who I am and could be.

Yet …

We have been amongst those who only want our holiday money.  Who will smile on the outside and not the inside.  And we have recognised them because we expected to be met with more than that – we gave more than that.  And because being kind includes saying “no thank you”.  So they have taken neither our gold of money or of love.

And I can do that better at home.  I can walk in love wherever – and with whoever – I am.  And with each learning – my expectation of risk goes down again.

This parable, I think, was always about love.  Always about me.  Never about work and duty and saving others.  I was taught of doing for God, for Kingdom, for numbers.

My learning is that bags of gold love is indeed always the answer.

See you soon …

.

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