The Spirit of Money

THE SPIRIT OF INTIMACY, by Sobonfu Some’, whose name means “keeper of ritual,” was born and raised in Burkina Faso.  She was a member of the Dagara tribe of West Africa.  The following is a short excerpt from her book in regards to money.  After all, “tis the season!”

Many factors contribute to the frequency of divorce in the West – money, job conflicts, infidelity, anonymity, isolation.   These result from a lack of spirit’s blessing and of community support.  In the village, these are not issues.

You have to go back to the fact that everything in the village, including money, is spirit-based.  It is only when money is taken out of its spiritual context that it becomes this huge giant that we have to struggle with.  Money was originally intended for spiritual usage.  It was taken to shrines and placed there as an offering.  It wasn’t used as a source of power. 

It’s when we start to disconnect money from its original meaning that we disconnect it from spirit.  Then we start to use it as a source of power.  Just like intimacy.  When we disconnect it from its spiritual base, we cut off it roots, and it becomes this vague thing just floating around without any kind of focus.

In absence of spirit, money becomes connected to “mine” and “I” and it’s mine, it’s not yours.  It does not belong to the community and does not have anything to do with spirit.

People make money into a personal thing.  It becomes all negative power and no spirit, giving it so much more energy than what it has in reality.  In this case it can only become an obstacle that divides people.

In a place where spirit has been forgotten, a true sense of identity is likely to be missing.  And since we have to have an identity beyond our social security number, people base their identity on their work.  Many people cannot separate their identity from what they do in their professional life.

But when you have a true sense of identity, you don’t feel insecure about sharing what you have.  And you will never find yourself fighting over the demands of a job.  – Sobonfu Some (Author of “The Spirit of Intimacy”)

Christmas Story From A Hospital Bed

It was two Christmas’s ago when I found myself in the hospital fighting for my life.  I was so out-of-it due to pain medication that I can hardly remember much in regards to the experience anymore, but I do remember that moment when I wanted to just die and move onto the next life.

As I lay still by myself with tubes and wires extending from my hands and arms in the darkness of what was, I couldn’t help but compare myself to my father.  Is this how he felt when he was laying by himself in a hospital bed, miles away from his family on Christmas day?

I was only two months short of his age when he passed away on December 27, in 1996.  I thought I was healthier than he was at this age.  I can only imagine the sadness felt by my mother and my siblings as history served a cold reminder of my father’s passing. 

“Dad, help me through this.  This can’t happen again.  Not like this. Not now at Christmas again. Please Jesus give me the courage and the strength to live.”

There was no warmth of a Christmas tree, or the festive colors of blue, white, yellow, green and red in the darkness of the cold and lifeless critical care room.  Yet, the night felt just as holy as the Christmas nights that had passed within the security of my own home.  I then realized that it was the love within my own heart where I found that familiar warmth and comfort. 

 

Christmas isn’t about shinny lights, brightly decorated homes, and wishful presents; it’s about gratitude and that simple exchange of love between caring human beings. Our love is our legacy; it’s what we leave behind in this world, and it’s the only thing we can take with us into the next.

And no matter how dark and desperate the times may seem, you are never alone.  Love is a constant companion, which is why I consider Christmas 2014 the best Christmas of my life. I received a special gift that year, a deeper awareness of love.  Even now as I think back on that night, I feel so terribly blessed to have experienced such suffering, and to be able to share this story with you today.

 

 

CHRISTMAS IN THE HOSPITAL

As I lie still by myself with tubes and wires extending from my hands and arms in the darkness of what is, I couldn’t help but compare myself to my father.  Is this how he felt when he was laying by himself in a hospital bed, miles away from his family on Christmas day?

I’m only two months short of his age when he passed away on December 27, in 1996.  I thought I was healthier than he was at this age.  I can only imagine the sadness felt by my mother and my siblings as history repeats. 

“Dad, help me through this.  This can’t happen again.  Not now.  Not like this.”

“Jesus, comfort me on this Holy night, as you have so many times before.  Wrap me in your love till I glow like a Christmas tree.  It would be so much easier to surrender to you here and now, but please give me the courage and the strength to live.”

There was no warmth of a Christmas tree, or the festive colors of gold, white, yellow, green and red in the darkness of the cut and grab critical care room.  But, the night felt just as holy as the Christmas nights passed within my own home of love. 

I felt better knowing that my dad most likely felt the same way on that Christmas holiday in 1996.  He wasn’t any more alone than I was at this moment in time.  My dad is with me this Christmas night, along with the spirits of love that crossed before me. 

Apparently, my Christmas wish was gifted that night.  I’m still here and doing much better than I was.  It wasn’t only my wish that was granted, but also the prayers of those who shinned their love on me that holiday season. 

In case you didn’t read it on a Facebook post, or I didn’t get a chance to tell you personally - thank you.  I love you all; each and every one of you.  I don’t even have to know you; I love you, because in the end, love is all that matters.

It’s kind of like when someone you know dies.  All the bad things you may have felt about that person just dissolve and disappear in the atmosphere somewhere.  We become forgiving and the only thing left is the good that we remember.  Our love is what shines on in this world; and it’s the only thing we can take with us to the next.

Love on while you can ~ Peace out!

 

My Dad