If you could wiggle your nose and wish for whatever you wanted, what would it be? Would it be a magical power, the perfect man or woman, the biggest mansion ever built? For some, including me, it would be good health. We expect some health problems as we age, but no one expects to become bedridden at 11, or 27, or 45 or even 68. We expect we’ll always be able to participate in whatever we want, simply because we can. And if we’re not in good enough shape to do what we want, we’ll exercise and eat right—because we can. Unless we get sick. If you’re in good health, be sincerely grateful, because you have far more than you know you have. But, as usual, I digress . . .

What is our most-true, deepest-down, heart-of-our-hearts wish? I think it’s to be at home in the Light, to discover the magical mystery of us and become one with the whole of who we are, to become one with God. God means different things to different people, but our deepest longings are the same.

We all know there is more—we can feel it—and we long to touch it, to see it. It’s scary to think about giving up our personalities, though, and merging with the whole. Would you still be you? Would I still be me? I used to be afraid I’d disappear in the whole but now I believe we just become better versions of ourselves. Who knows? Maybe there are stages to growing into the Light, just as there are stages of growing into who we are, here and now. We climb one ladder and pause there for a while, taking it all in, listening to the stories of what’s in the great beyond. When we’re ready, we take the next ladder up, until at last we choose to lose ourselves in the Light, to leave our individuality behind. I guess most of us don’t have to worry about that today, though.

It is a long road home to the Source of Life, but we don’t have to take forever, either. When we’re ready to take that higher road, we simply picture standing behind us—we must know they are there—the most loving Father or Mother we can imagine and fall back into their arms. It’s that easy. They take care of the rest.

P.S.–My good friend and occasional contributor here, Anita, commented today that she longs for home even though her life is now the best it’s ever been. I realized when I read her comment that other people may read what I write about going home, about oneness with God, as leaving our bodies and moving on. That’s not what I mean, though surely that is the best possible outcome. What I mean is falling into God’s arms in the here and now, trusting that our souls know, that we know deep down, that the best version of us is the one who takes the higher road, the one who hears and acts with our “better angels,” as President Lincoln called them. When we show compassion, when we love all our brothers and sisters and work on their behalf, offering belief in them and a hand up out of poverty, or violence, or lack of education and opportunity, we are doing what we are here to do: Spread love and healing, encourage potential and assist in the search for meaning. Then, we are each like a glass spilling over with an abundance of love. I say, let’s be that container of love!