Lesson 273: The Seeds of Growth: I’m Yours

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This blog post from last year is the perfect post for the day.  I am honeymooning with my husband (twenty-five years of love!) and happy, happy , happy.  Sure, work tries to horn in here and there, and this cheap little cabin we’ve rented is hardly the lap of luxury, but who cares?  Am I seriously going to scan my surroundings to invent grievances?  No!  I am happy to be away with my husband with love in my heart.  I know love is who I am; who he is, who we are and who everyone is (even the folks who in our opinions appear to be idiots).  Anyway, today’s ACIM lesson, #273, is perfect: The stillness of the peace of God is mine. Yes!

I'm Yours

I’m Yours

Somewhere amid the hubbub of life, growth happens.  Speaking personally, it’s not always something I welcome, or want even, but there it is nonetheless: out of the heartache, growth.  Out of the pain, growth.  Seeds were sown.  I don’t even realize it at the time, but seeds have been sown and before I know it, there it is: a garden blossoming with things I didn’t even realize I’d planted.


Last night, I was speaking with a friend of mine and I realized how few of these details matter.  He was telling me stories about this or that that happened and it was just stories: you know like we do when we are trying to cling to our limitations or defend our position.  Just stories.  When you get to the point where you really start to get this stuff, you realize the dream is just the dream and the details are just the stories we made up.  Once you can’t buy into the bullshit, it’s hard to side with ego.

It is the marvelous thing about being trained as a Practitioner – you’re trained to know the truth so why do I care about the particulars of illusion?  It’s like when someone tries to tell me the details of illness.  I don’t really care because it’s not the truth.  Do you really want me to buy into it with you? If I do, it will make it that much more difficult to deny it and I thought you wanted to heal.  Your body was meant to heal.  It wants to heal.  That’s the truth to focus on, not how awful the fear has made you feel.

Only the love is real.

I woke up happy this morning.  With the deal from hell finally behind me and just details to focus on to get life in order, all I could hear was the Jason Mraz song, I’m Yours.

And peace, at last, there is peace.  I always knew that the answer wasn’t out there, but dang, attachment makes it hard to be chill and let the peace flow in.  Even now, I catch my mind wanting to scramble and complicate things.  But God is really easy.  Have I mentioned how much appreciate knowing the qualities of God and recognizing that if I’m not experiencing them that I have hitched my wagon to the ego-caravan?

Seriously, dude?!?  That thing goes NO WHERE I want to be.

“Look into your heart and you’ll find love, love, love, love.”

Today’s lesson:

Lesson 273

The stillness of the peace of God is mine.

Perhaps we are now ready for a day of undisturbed tranquility. If this is not yet feasible, we are content and even more than satisfied to learn how such a day can be achieved. If we give way to a disturbance, let us learn how to dismiss it and return to peace. We need but tell our minds, with certainty, “The stillness of the peace of God is mine,” and nothing can intrude upon the peace that God Himself has given to His Son.

Father, Your peace is mine. What need have I to fear that anything can rob me of what You would have me keep? I cannot lose Your gifts to me. And so the peace You gave Your Son is with me still, in quietness and in my own eternal love for You.



© Foundation for Inner Peace • PO Box 598 • Mill Valley, CA  94942-0598

God, I’m yours.  My life belongs to you.  No more fighting.  No more resisting the inevitable.  I’m up for grabbing a cup of happiness and letting it loose into the water system.

Peace is mine.  And Jason Mraz has me dancing and singing and wanting to shout from the rooftops,  God, being Love, is also happiness.

I’m up for peace.  God, I’m yours.

Namaste, my friends, Namaste.


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