Where Tears Well Up and Spill Over

By Deacon Ronald Steed and Artist Roxanne Steed

The veil draped between our space and God’s is wispy-thin in places.  Yet, it can seem as though God is far, far away on some distant galaxy, kept from us by thick walls and iron gates, but that’s just the illusion of our ego. That is what it feels like when we try to take heaven by storm… when we try find God with our heads.

But the heart knows the truth; the veil is thin… and porous.  At times, when hearts are opened, the veil fades, and we find Christ so close we can feel his breath as we stand in his light.

“Soul” was the alias of a man I case-managed for a season.  HIs was a hard situation (in our opinion) because he was willful and didn’t want our help.  On many days, Soul walked around New London and Waterford for miles, clothed only in gym shorts and tennis shoes… and a cape.  A nearly-naked man in a cape. 

And Soul was a big man; intimidating to many.  As he pounded the miles of sidewalks on his daily rounds, he would SHOUT at the top of his lungs about Love… punctuated by F-bombs and finger signs.  I’ve proclaimed the Gospel of Love too, but not quite like Soul!

Soul was well-known to the police.  He got kicked out of Harkness Park for having a verbal spat with a guest there.  Similar conflicts were had with his neighbors in the apartment house where he lived.  It was after calls from his landlord and his court-appointed lawyer, that I asked Soul if I could come by. 

Opening the door to let me in, I was struck by his small apartment; spare and orderly. People I know and read, aspire to the kind of life he was actually living; simple, ordered, present.

He made tea and began to talk.  I didn’t have to say much really… just be present, listen carefully, and ask a couple of questions… more like a friend and companion than a case-manager.  “Soul, I hear that Love is your message for the world; why all the f-bombs?  Won’t your neighbors miss the point?” 

After an hour, Soul handed me his journal.  “I’ve never shown this to anyone”, he said. 

I opened it like a rare object, and began to read… page after page… about Love; Love in poems… in random thoughts… in little sketches… in paragraphs that went on for miles like his daily walks.  Love that was nearly naked and wearing a cape..  Hundreds of handwritten pages on just one thing; Love.  The veil fell away… only Christ remained.

Christ made his Second Coming for me in those reading moments… so close I could hear his heartbeat with mine… feel the warmth of his skin near my skin.  And having learned from Soul¹ that Christ is only a heart-opening away, it has not been the only time. 

The veil is thin and porous. It lifts where authentic stories are told, where hearts are broken open so that the real part shows… Christ is there, where tears well up and spill over….

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1. A year after our meeting, Soul was found dead in his apartment from a heart-attack.  I like to think of him across the veil; healed, caped, and striding about the universe… proclaiming the Gospel of Love

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