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My Arm Was The Cross:

My arm was the cross - what does that mean - indeed how can it be:  The cross was wooden, I was not the wood,  I was not Jesus.  Perhaps instead it means that to Jesus, the I - is for souls such as myself - for others a long way away, still to rise to those great heights - to meet anger with love - hate with love - joy and pain also with love - indeed all conflicting emotions and suffering, no matter what - to treat them all with love and understanding: The warmth will thus find and indeed take route, for like a drop of rain once fallen - more soon arrives, thus each drop of warmth becomes one day a rainfall - a torrent albeit in another context - of spiritual heights climbed, so perhaps that is why those words remain with me - "my arm was the cross" - for what else do they mean.

I like to think, yes, I too showed such love for all, so that perhaps in aeons past - yes, my arm too was indeed that cross - but of another time and place - of suffering or torment - so that like tiny specks of light - so it gradually filters through to my consciousness - and with that comes a deeper love and warmth to my fellow men and women, and so too the animal and vegetable and mineral kingdom - those elements beyond earth - the air - and beyond that too - for realisation hopefully will make me more as I once was in the Beginning of Time - for all knowledge existed - indeed still exists, but lies deep down through many barriers and veils.

But what I often wonder - ok one day I was brave - strong - died for my faith - was capable of anything?  So why, today, do I not maintain that ability - realisation, for as I look now at myself - I feel neither brave - strong - capable of anything - so how strange how time has wiped away my being that:  Is it relevant today I wonder, for outwardly I am not the same as I was once - endured or suffered - only in those memories, but not that knowing - that I can do anything - all is possible.

So, what have I lost as civilisation has come further on, and with it, different trials and tests of strength - endurance:  Does my soul long to go back?  For is that the way Home. 

In the meantime, I know, that now, today, my arm is far from being the cross - will the future show differently?  I hope so, indeed my soul yearns for that to be so, so in the meantime, all these experiences of life are tests for my soul - endurance of another kind perhaps to what I've experienced/undergone in  lives long past - but oh, to see once more, those Godly Beings, to raise me higher than I otherwise would be:  But still I see them, yes I do, in my dreams and aspirations, and from books at times read - so yes, I go on, the goal beckons - and thus golden days will once more return, as I make my long way home.

Always looking - always seeking - that at times unremembered path - but now and then, I see a step, and what joy as I climb, so sometimes, there are signposts which brighten my way and give warmth to my soul - which otherwise it would not find, and so I go on, for there can be no greater reward for my soul, than to know, that yes, my arm is the cross, both in the future and the past, for like those Beloved Ones, I lovingly journey on through all the spheres of time - as my spirit and soul walks down those last roads Home.

But I know when I stop, I am not alone, although I feel often, a long way from Home:  How I ask, do others manage, who know not what I do - believe or need this too - and then I tell myself, how lucky I am - for although I have far to go, in my soul I know, and for nobody would I let that slip away, for that is what makes me - that which keeps my soul together, for no life can exist without that belonging to God - some albeit unknown.

May I never feel that I am not a part of God - that I am one with all of Creation - with love for everything and everyone, as I travel through times to come.

Pat Grabham

22nd September, 1987.