Turning for Respite
From the storm-scenes of contending forces, from the darkness of Spiritual night, from the uncertain states, like dim twilight, one ever turns in spirit to the Beloved, to the groups of loved and loving ones that constitute the “Home of the Spirit.” “Spiritual rest is change,” respite from witnessing the unhappy conditions, the shadows of spiritual states that one cannot at once remedy. “Rest” is not idleness: communion, companionship, working together for those who can be aided—this is rest. The “Home Group” ever intent upon ministering wherever and whenever needed, afforded the respite sought. Such memories of Earth-experiences as had been kept alive in the sacred altar-flame of true affection and home ties; such interchange of Ideals and experiences as the later years had brought; such knowledge of the blending of the spirit and the mortal states, the guardianship and ministration of the loved arisen ones over those in Earth-forms, this was rest. Blessed respite; blessed communion; one would never be ready, it would seem, to part with such companionship.
Nor do we ever “part” with the truly loved. Whatever duties we must perform for those in spirit or human states, those most in accord, those nearest and dearest are ever with us “whether in or out of the body.”
Our human phrases, and even our usual thoughts seem superficial, weak and puerile when endeavoring to describe the divine realities of the Spirit. We never “part”; we can never be “absent” from the Beloved. Yet the shadows of human existence: “time and sense,” and outward “change” and “circumstances” are upon those who make “the house of clay” the limit of their mental and spiritual possessions.