Welcome to His House,
A parable of spiritual intimacy,
Written by me,
Judy Boozer.
This story is a parable,
A spiritual journey told through metaphor and inviting you beyond information and into experience.
Now before we begin,
I want to share a brief note about language.
Throughout His House,
God is presented using masculine pronouns.
This isn't because I believe God is male,
But because as a woman,
I wanted to capture the experience of intimacy with a being whose thought process and essence felt entirely different from my own.
To do that,
I chose the other side of the human duality,
Masculinity,
To represent the divine within this story.
My hope is that,
Regardless of gender,
You hear beyond the words,
Into the relationship,
The longing,
And the love that the story reveals.
Each chapter opens a window into the soul's walk towards God's house,
A walk that moves through symbols,
Emotions,
And revelation.
To fully enter this journey,
It helps to begin not with the mind,
But with the heart.
These moments aren't meant to be hurried or analyzed,
They're meant to be felt.
So before we begin chapter one,
The sign,
We'll take a few quiet moments together to slow down,
Breathe,
And become present,
Body,
Mind,
And spirit,
So that you can experience the story rather than simply hearing it.
Go ahead and take a slow,
Deep breath in through your nose,
And release it gently through your mouth.
Let your shoulders soften,
Let your jaw unclench,
Let the pace of your day begin to fall away.
Feel the support beneath you,
The ground,
The chair,
The earth.
You're safe here,
You are held.
Another slow,
Deep breath in.
With each breath,
Let your awareness move closer to this moment,
Closer to stillness.
Nothing to prove,
Nothing to produce.
Just let yourself be in this space.
Now imagine yourself standing on a quiet path.
The air around you is calm,
Almost expectant.
Somewhere ahead there's a soft light,
A glow you can't quite see clearly yet,
But it calls to something deep within you.
This light,
This call,
Is the beginning of your journey to his house.
Breathe deeply again,
And as you do,
Let go of whatever might distract you.
The noise,
The planning,
The worries,
The waiting.
Let them rest beside the path for now.
Whisper inwardly,
I am here.
I am listening.
I am ready.
Stay with that readiness for one more slow,
Deep breath.
Now gently,
Let's begin chapter one,
The sign.
As I walked along the path,
I came upon a group gathered around the base of what appeared to be a sign.
The sign was flashing neon with a gyrating arrow pointing down a path.
The flashing neon words said,
This way to God's house.
The people milling about seemed enthralled with the sign,
Often pointing to it and exclaiming its wonders.
I asked one of the passerbys about the sign.
He told me what I already knew,
The sign pointed to the path that led to God's house.
Excitedly,
He told me how grateful he was to have it after such a long journey through the desert.
He hurried to join the group gathered around the base of the sign.
They appeared to be setting up a potluck and eagerly greeted one another.
I joined them.
During dinner,
Individuals easily shared their experience of the sign,
When they saw it,
How it made them feel,
And the comfort it gave them to see it flashing in the night.
Curious,
I asked if any of them had traveled down the path the sign pointed to.
They all looked at me in shock,
As if I had suggested something impossible.
Of course not,
They said.
It's not safe.
That path leads to the valley of the shadow of death.
Death as in dead,
As in no longer living.
Almost no one who goes down that path returns,
And those who do speak in riddles.
We can only assume that path leads to madness and death.
Besides,
We know where God is,
The sign tells us where he is.
That path is for after we die.
And as long as we're here,
We can show other people where God is.
I mean,
Isn't that the Great Commission?
As I lay down for the night,
I couldn't help but wonder why someone would build a sign pointing to a path no one is supposed to take.
So,
The next day I told my new friends that I was traveling down the path to God's house.
They tried to dissuade me,
Reminding me that it was unsafe,
And expressing their concerns for me.
I told them that I had to know the purpose of the sign.
I shouldn't have been concerned,
For as soon as I left their sight,
They returned to adoring the sign.
The journey through the valley of the shadow of death was challenging,
More challenging than I could have anticipated.
There were twists and turns,
False paths,
Hidden paths,
And the darkness that permeated my soul.
When I called out,
My voice echoed back different and yet somehow the same,
Mocking me.
There were times when I thought I would die there,
And there were other times I thought I already had.
Suddenly,
And almost without warning,
I stumbled upon his door.
I couldn't believe I hadn't seen it sooner.
The porch light shone in the darkness like a lighthouse,
And yet I had been blind to it.
Seeing it was like opening my eyes.
Before I walked in the dark because my eyes were closed,
And now I walked in the light because my eyes were open.
I knocked.
He answered.
He seemed different than I expected.
I expected hell and brimstone.
He was more like,
Come on in and have dinner with me.
I looked around as if expecting to see that his home had been hard to find.
It was not.
If I had looked carefully through the trees,
I could even still see the group gathered around the base of the sign,
Singing songs and holding hands.
I looked at him.
He looked at me.
I said,
Did you know that there's a group of people at the corner gathered around a sign pointing to your house?
Yes,
He said.
Some of my oldest friends built that sign so that others would have an easier time finding my home.
There are others elsewhere.
However,
Many confuse knowing where I am for knowing who I am,
And so they gather around the sign instead of coming to visit me.
Oh.
What about the forest,
The Valley of the Shadow of Death?
It seemed so much bigger when I was walking through it.
However,
Now that I'm here,
It seems so small.
What happened to it?
The Valley of the Shadow of Death is the journey of dying to self.
It always seems bigger,
Harder,
And scarier when you're walking through it than it does when you're finished.
That's because you see it through the eyes of your flesh,
Your ego,
When you're walking through it,
And your false self is afraid to die.
However,
When your false self is dead,
You see it through the eyes of your true self,
Which can't die,
And so you're not afraid.
The false self keeps many from making this journey.
The people said that most who make this journey never return,
And those who do return speak in riddles.
Has no one returned to tell them what to expect on this journey so that they're not afraid?
Oh,
Many have returned.
However,
They've not returned the same as they left.
Some just aren't recognized.
Those who are recognized speak a different language,
A language that sounds like nonsense,
Because it speaks of a deeper truth instead of surface facts.
This journey can't be taught.
It's not information or data.
It can only be experienced firsthand.
The sign is intended to point toward the journey,
Not to be a substitute for that journey.
Still,
Those who found the sign have gotten closer than if there had been no sign,
So it still serves a purpose.
He smiled at me like an old friend and stepped back,
Inviting me in.
I'm glad you came.
I was just about to sit down to dinner.
Please join me.
And so I did.
Before we close,
Let's pause a moment to reflect on the story.
Take a slow breath.
Let the images from the sign settle into you.
The neon glow of the sign.
The warmth of the crowd.
The long,
Shadowed path.
The quiet porch light waiting at the end.
You've just walked with the traveler from the safety of knowing about God to the courage of truly meeting God.
Notice what lingers within you.
Maybe it's the comfort of the crowd,
The fear of the valley,
Or the tenderness of his welcome.
Whatever rises,
Don't judge it.
Just notice.
This is how Spirit speaks.
Now let's take a few moments to reflect.
You can even write in your journal if you like.
Let's look at the sign and the crowd.
Where in your own life might you be admiring a sign rather than taking the journey it points to?
This could be a belief,
A community,
A routine,
Or even a comfort zone that has become familiar but no longer leads you deeper.
Let's look at the valley of the shadow of death.
What does this valley symbolize for you?
Is there a fear,
A surrender,
Or a transformation that you've been avoiding because it feels too risky or painful?
Let's explore the journey of dying to self.
How do you sense your false self trying to hold on?
What does your true self,
The one unafraid of death and loss,
Want you to know right now?
What about the door and the invitation?
Imagine standing at that door.
What emotions rise?
Relief?
Awe?
Hesitation?
Gratitude?
Speak honestly with the divine about what you feel.
Finally,
Let's look at returning changed.
The story tells us that those who return speak in riddles because they've encountered a deeper truth.
In what ways has your own spiritual journey changed the way you see,
Speak,
Or relate to others?
Take another slow,
Deep breath.
Let the story,
The questions,
And the quiet all mingle together within you.
You don't need to rush toward answers.
This isn't about solving,
It's about seeing.
When you're ready,
Whisper inwardly,
Thank you for the invitation to come closer.
Sit with that gratitude for a moment.
And now rest here,
Inside his house,
Letting the warmth of his presence remind you that you have arrived.
Www.
Mooji.
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