Those who love me will keep my word,
and my Father-Mother will love them,
and we will come to them
and make our home with them.
The Holy One is not a king on a high throne.
You don’t have to move your heart’s belongings
to the far-off city with gold streets.
God is not a destination.
God is a family. God is home.
The Beloved lives with you,
moves in with her plants and quilts,
Beloved, you are my home,
my family, my belonging.
In you I can wear my pajamas.
No matter what happens to me,
how others treat me,
or even what I think of myself,
you are the warm, sold place I am safe,
I am free, I am myself, I am loved.
You are the family that includes me,
the beloved that know me,
that claim me as your own.
You live with me, make a home with me.
I am not separate or different.
I am one of us. I belong.
We all are. We all do.