The weightlessness you experience when you find yourself in water is the same weightlessness your spirit experiences as long as you find yourself in the womb of God's love — a weightlessness that fills up and closes your own droughts. And makes them overflow the better you manage to live there. Without this umbilical cord of grace that feeds us with gratitude, appreciation, insight and wisdom, we are all more or less as ugly as the mirrors hung inside us. I find I have to climb back regularly into God's womb in order to grow emotionally strong, before I can be spiritually born healthy again for each new challenge. It is a temperate climate inside which the microclimate of circumstances, of people and of happenings takes on new perspective and new priority; a perspective that softens the onslaught on my personality; a feelingful surrounding where the magnetism of hope and faith, the moment you move nearer to them, grabs you and draws you in and throws you into the deep end of your own personality. Every time we are not who or what we are meant to be, or not what we are meant to feel, we sink, and we miss it.

It is inside the destiny of our own personality that we strike the steady vein of joy and peace. Not somewhere outside us. Love and good feelings are the guides that steer our hearts towards it. Condemnation, fault-finding and suspicion sabotage your homecoming. Created in the image of God, love is the key to an everlasting fellowship with heavenly loveliness that adorns our earthly palette tastefully and meaningfully; with hidden juices in flavours that marinate hard people and hard circumstances and make them digestible. You can only belong to yourself if you belong to God; if He swallows up and grinds fine your destiny until you qualify for it. That is why you can only raise your own framework permanently if you put it up on His foundation. If you do not, then whatever you build will disappear along with the scaffolding on which the builders stood.

Out of the overload of negative propaganda on TV, in newspapers and magazines, we inherit only the shallow flotsam and push-up of a restless humankind, which presses the same self-made crises and bad tidings over and over again at our eyes and ears to smother our loving and our feeling good. Unhurried, unshakeable quiet crowns its own victims only with this sweet nectar where a soft landing strip in such a personality has been made ready. He who comes to the gate to do good, knocks at the door. He who comes to love, finds the gate open.

Rest well. With much love and blessing. Amanda Kreitzer