God’s Grin

The Big Unknown has come to call.  My beloved’s well-being is uncertain.  Our earthly life, therefore, is uncertain beyond the usual Who the heck knows?  we all deal with.  Maybe around a nearby corner a measure of predictability awaits.  Maybe not.  

She and I tell each other there is nothing we can’t handle.  But really, who can say?  God’s been known to grin the minute some schlub proclaims something like, “I’d never do that.”  I’ve been that schlub.  Haven’t we all?  Still, I’m as confident as I can be.  My beloved and I have some serious practice with things falling apart in the past 40 plus years.  

Key to our harmony, if I had to pick one, is that we’re not really a couple.  We’re two individuals committed to the deepest experience of spirit we can realize, each serving the other to that end as best we can.  

A guy once asked me whether I would allow my wife to do such-and-such.  I was speechless at the notion.  The brutality of it.  That someone I love––heck, anyone at all––needs my permission to live as they see fit is lunacy.  At 5 or so my father thought he could make me finish the peas on my dinner plate.  He was mistaken.  

This thing, this threat to my beloved’s health, is actually what I asked for in a certain way: whatever it takes to grow all the love I can.  It’s an aspiration that makes it impossible for happiness to be dependent on any particular outcome.  

In Jack Kornfield’s “After the Ecstasy, the Laundry,” he quotes a piece of Zen wisdom: “If you wish to know the truth, only cease to cherish opinions.”  

Experience has surely confirmed that principle for me.  A broken heart needn’t be a barrier to joy.

Then again, I find myself wondering whether God is grinning at the opportunity to honor my “whatever it takes” aspiration.  Maybe with a broken heart like nothing I’ve ever known.

7 thoughts on “God’s Grin”

  1. Mr. Roberts,
    I have never replied or commented on your writings before. After reading “God’s Grin” I felt a strange connection and compulsion to reach out to you.

    I was Nancy Cathcart’s partner. I know your fear.
    I have certainly learned what “a broken heart like nothing I’ve ever known “ feels like.

    I’d like to thank you for sharing your heart and wisdom and I wish you and your wife peace and strength.

  2. Patricia Neal

    Craig and I “have some serious practice with things falling apart” in the past 39+ years. Ten plus years ago I committed my heart breaking open. Well that has happened in ways I could never imagine, creating greater capacity each time. For that I am grateful. Heartbreak hasn’t been fatal, but a grace. I too want to thank you for sharing your heart and wisdom and I wish you and your wife strength and more love.

  3. Steve, as you know well I understand ” a broken heart like nothing I have ever known”. In fact I wrote a book about it -“A Love Story”. Apart from sending you love, healing and prayers, what else can I do to support you at this time?

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