His House: Chapter 11 – The Sign 2 | Story & Reflection

In The Sign 2, the seeker’s restless heart finds its answer not in comfort, but in calling. When the familiar peace of the Divine garden gives way to a deep unease, she discovers that her discomfort is an invitation — not to stay, but to go. Through a tender and profound conversation with the One who loves her, she learns that true love cannot be contained or controlled; it must pour itself out.

This story invites listeners to reflect on what it means to embody love in motion — to become the sign that points others home, not through words alone, but through being. It is a meditation on trust, surrender, and the courage to live as Love in the world.

Background music by Liborio Conti.

Transcript

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, 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 toward the divine, 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 11, The sign 2, 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 hear it. Take a slow breath in through your nose, And release it gently through your mouth. Breathe. 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 are safe here. You are held. Another slow, Deep breath in, And out. With each breath, Let your awareness move closer to this moment, Closer to stillness. Nothing to prove, Nothing to produce, Just this space to be. 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 11, The sign 2. I felt like my feet were on fire, Like my skin was on too tight. I turned and repositioned myself, But it didn't do any good. The discomfort was in my heart, Not my chair. After trying to concentrate on the book I was reading for a few more minutes, I set it aside with a sigh. My mind just couldn't stay still. I had to go find him. He was in the front yard, Planting a cherry tree. I wouldn't have thought of him as someone who enjoyed yard work, But the look of bliss and contentment on his face told me that I would have been wrong. He was completely at home with dirt smudged across his forehead. Um, Can I help? I asked, Even though he had the tree mostly planted. Of course, He said. This young lady will need some water once I finish putting her in her new home. I went to get the hose and turn on the water, Not too strong, But more than a trickle. He was finished by the time I got back. One day she will stretch her branches across the sky and bear the brightest, Sweetest cherries you could possibly imagine. Today, However, She needs us to take care of her and teach her how to grow into herself, He said, Wiping his face and taking the hose from me. What have you named her? I asked. Hmm, Mora. Mora the cherry tree. He said with a smile over our shared joke that may or may not have actually been a joke. It was hard to tell with him. His world was equal parts practical and whimsical. My plan was to talk to him about what was going on in my head, But seeing him there brought me into peace. We walked into the house together. Since it was near lunchtime, I started to get things ready while he cleaned up. Almost immediately, My mind was somewhere elsewhere, And I was engulfed by that restless feeling again. I couldn't put it off anymore. I had to talk to him about it. During lunch, We chatted and talked about the day, But whereas before I felt like I could talk about anything, Today all I could think about was the one thing I didn't want to talk about. I realized he was sitting across the table in silence, Just looking at me. I thought that maybe he'd said something and I was supposed to respond, But didn't because I wasn't listening. Oh my goodness, I wasn't listening, Was I? Great. Just great. You have something on your mind, He said. Would you like to talk about it now or later? I'm sorry. I guess my mind was somewhere else. I shifted in my seat. It felt like something was going to explode out of my chest if I didn't say something. I've been thinking about the sign and the wall. I began looking at the table and without the sign to guide them, People are lost. Yes, There are those who are finding a way around, But they were already looking for your house. They knew that it existed even if they didn't know how to get there. What about those who don't know that there's something to be found? Ah, Yes, There are those. Eventually they'll see the path and feel the call in their heart. Everyone does. And what about those who managed to get past the wall? That particular group of sign worshipers seems so certain that they're right that I don't think they'll point people to your house. They seem to want agreeers rather than searchers. He was silent, Looking at me like he was waiting for me to come to a realization that he already knew. I just, I feel like I should do something. Like we should do something, I said, Still hinting, Scavenging around the edges of what I really wanted to say, Almost afraid to say it because then it would be real. What do you think we should do? He asked quietly. Well, I thought about building another sign, But I realized that they would just tear it down. Probably, He agreed. What if I went there and told people? Now that I had started to get to the core of what was on my heart, It all rushed out. What if I became the new sign? He let out a breath like he'd been holding it in. He leaned forward and put his cup of coffee on the table. I've been waiting for you to talk to me about this, He said. Ever since we went to look at the wall, I could see how much the thought of people not being able to come to my house troubled you. The thought of them being lost and not knowing how to be found upset you. Finding that young woman and her baby changed something in your heart. In that moment, You found someone who mattered more to you than yourself. He paused for a breath and I rushed in. I've given it a lot of thought. You're right. Something happened to me when I found that young woman. It was like I found what I was made to do. In that moment, I didn't feel like me anymore. I felt like love in motion. I don't want to do this because I think I'm supposed to. I want this to be what I'm supposed to do because I'm going to do it anyway. I sucked my breath in as it sank in what I'd said. I was horrified at my boldness and afraid of what he might say. I hoped he wouldn't think I was being disrespectful. He chuckled softly, Then louder, Then began to laugh out loud until it shook the whole room. Tears filled my eyes. Was he laughing at me? You are so beautiful, He said, And you just have no idea. I didn't really know what to say to that, So I said nothing. When did you want to go? To be honest, I hadn't thought that far ahead. I was just afraid you wouldn't let me go, That you would tell me it was dangerous and I should stay where it was safe. Well, It is dangerous, But only in a different way than staying here is dangerous. I don't want to control you. You can't love someone and try to control them at the same time. Control destroys love, And love destroys control. When you love someone, You love who they are, Not who they would be if only they did what you said. Control is the love of self. It's a business arrangement. Control says, I love you as long as you are what I want you to be. If you aren't what I want you to be, Then I don't love you anymore. That's not love. It's a business transaction. I love you as you are, As you were, And as you will be. What happens now? I asked, Unsure of where to go from here. Well, You can come and go as you wish, He said. There may be times that I come to you because I long for your company. I hope that you'll come share dinner with me and the occasional walk in the garden. My eyes became misty. Of course. Do you remember how it was when you were at the crossroads after the war? The closeness and intimacy we felt even after I left to take the woman and her child to my home? I nodded. I remembered. It'll be like that, Unless, Of course, You're here, And then it'll be like this, He said with a smile. I saw no sorrow in his face. I half expected there to be since I was leaving his house. You're leaving my house, But you're not leaving me, And I will never leave you, He said as if he could read my thoughts. Thank you, I said. For what? For loving you? Believe me, It wasn't that hard, He replied laughingly. Sleeping that night was like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. It was the sweetest sleep I had ever had. The next morning, I woke early, Ate breakfast, Got dressed, And packed a bag. He walked me to the crossroads. I hugged him. He held me for a moment and pulled away slightly, Looking me in the face. There are two things to remember. First, My house is right around the corner, And you're welcome no matter day or night. I'm a part of you, And you're a part of me. We can't be separated from one another. Second, There are many counterfeits, But true love pours itself out into others. It holds nothing back because love isn't about worthiness. It's not about anything. It simply is. You'll pour yourself out for others, And some will respond like more of the cherry tree and blossom, And some will reject you. That shouldn't change who you are. Be loved because that's who you are. That's who we are together. Love the people, Whether they change or not, And know that no matter what happens, I love you. I nodded. He let go of me, And I stepped back. I smiled, Turned, And walked over to the platform where the sign had once stood. I stepped on top of it and raised my arm, My hand pointing down the path to God's house. He smiled at me one last time before turning around and walking down the path where I was pointing. The travelers passed around me, Some looking at me strangely. Several hours passed with me standing and pointing, Or sometimes just standing when my arm got tired, Before someone asked why I was standing on that podium. I smiled broadly and said, This is the way to God's house. Really? They said. We've been looking for that path, But the men at the gate told us that it had been lost. Tell us about it. And so I did. There comes a point on every path when love no longer asks us to seek, But to become. It's not about finding the way anymore. It's about realizing that we are the way love chooses to move through the world. You may not feel ready for that kind of becoming. Few ever do. But love has a way of preparing us quietly, Through every ache, Every lesson, Every moment we dared to care more for others than for our own comfort. Take a slow breath. Let yourself feel what it means to move from being a seeker of love to being an expression of it. When have you felt called to be the answer to the very prayer you were praying? Where in your life might love be asking you to step forward and embody what you once only sought? How does it feel to know that you carry the essence of the divine within you, That you can point others toward love simply by being yourself? What helps you stay open-hearted when love asks you to pour yourself out, Even without guarantees of being received? You were never meant to be a sign on a hill, Static and still. You are love in motion, A living invitation, And whether others see it or not, Whether they turn toward you or walk away, The truth remains. Love flows through you because love lives in you. You are not pointing toward love. You are pointing from it.