This one felt hard to put into words, so sacred is the Golden Rule; so dear its promise—its challenge and right to follow. . .
Sometimes like a wagging finger it reminds of shortcomings. Of missing the mark. Or just not quite getting that this most beautiful of all rules can bring peace.
When I was a child, its seed was sown in my heart. The rule felt wonderful, being nice, pleasant. Yet, at the same time, a burden not easy—or clear how—to carry. Particularly when my kindness made no difference. Gradually, I realize now, obeying became fixated on me. Rather than letting Love (God) itself carry the grace, the weight of proof became mine, for me.
