Sunday, December 9, 2007

Home for Christmas

As I was driving this morning, the song "I'll Be Home for Christmas" was playing on the radio. Several people have asked me where I plan to spend Christmas. My answer has been, "I don't know." As soon as I heard the song this morning, I knew where I would be. I will be home this Christmas, perhaps for the first time. Home within my heart, within the essence of my being. I will be home with my God Self.

I used to love Christmas. It was my favorite time of year. Ask anyone who knew me. I knew all of the words to most of the Christmas shows. Rudolph was my favorite.
Before I left on my road trip, I sold or gave away most of my belongings which included my Christmas decorations. Guess my higher self knew what was coming.

It is interesting that this year Christmas feels out of place to me. When I look at my life, I see that I live Christmas every day. I celebrate each day: the joy of living in the moment, the wonder of nature, love for all of God's creation, compassion and forgiveness for my debtors, healing the "sick," and using my intuitive abilities to act as my star of Bethlehem, to guide my way. Christmas, the time of Christ, of living as the God that I am, does not fall on one day a year. It is a way of life.

This year, I do not celebrate the birth of a man who showed us that we all are Gods incarnate. I celebrate my birth, or rather rebirth, of the God that I am. "These things and more shall you do," Jesus said. If he was able to heal the sick, help the blind see, master his intuitive abilities, then so it is with all of us...and more.

When you listen to Christmas songs, I invite you to put your name in place of Jesus'. This is why he came - to show us all our divine nature. If we are made in the image and likeness of God, how can it be otherwise?

Joy to the world my God Self has come! I sleep in heavenly peace.


Joan Cerio - Keeper of the Keys to a Masterful Life

Life Lines - Publishing high vibrational words that serve as "lifelines" for self-transformation.

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