New Beginnings

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Life unfolds in cycles. If you observe these cycles closely, you will notice there are times when things seem to be falling apart and other times when they are falling into place. We are often confronted with the familiar question: Is the cup half full, or is it half empty?

This question points to an important truth. The answer is not determined by the condition of the cup, but by how you are feeling at the moment you are viewing it. If you are optimistic and full of expectation, the cup appears half full. If you are feeling weak, vulnerable, or worn down by circumstances, the same cup will appear half empty.

Many spiritual teachers have embraced a simple principle: life is consciousness. The condition of the cup does not need to determine how you feel. When you determine how you feel, the condition of the cup often takes care of itself.

Have you noticed how, during a low moment, a single encouraging word—a phrase from a book or a line from scripture—can suddenly inspire a new way of seeing? A cup that looked half empty moments before now appears half full… and filling. Do not be discouraged during emotionally low moments. Refuse to set your course by these brief seasons of diminished vision.

Always remember that in the twinkling of an eye everything can change, simply because you allow yourself to change the way you see.

Each new moment holds the potential for a new beginning. It does not matter how negative you may have felt just moments ago—you can begin again now. Set a new energy in motion. Create a positive, encouraging affirmation and begin speaking it with joy and expectation, for these emotions lay the groundwork for transformation.

Refuse to see yourself as a victim of circumstance or personality. And when you slip back into a half-empty way of thinking, remember that life is dynamic. There is always reason to hold even the smallest glimmer of hope, affirming that the good you desire is already coming forth.

As we stand at the threshold of a new year, choose to see it not merely as half full, but as brimming with possibilities—many of them still unimagined.

Your Christmas Story

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Unity teaches that the Christ is the essence of God individualized in each of us. Yet most of us have accepted ideas of lack, limitation, and separation as the basis of our identity. Over time, these ideas take form—not only in our thinking, but in our bodies, our relationships, and our circumstances. The spiritual journey, then, is not about becoming something new, but about remembering what we already are.

The Christmas story describes this recovery of awareness through symbol and soul-language.

Mary represents spiritual receptivity—the intuitive dimension of consciousness that is open to the movement of Spirit. She is the part of us that knows life is more than survival and circumstance. Mary is the higher Self that listens inwardly and trusts what it hears. Without this receptive awareness, no spiritual birth is possible.

Joseph represents the intellect, but not as ruler. In the awakening soul, the intellect undergoes a quiet conversion. Once dominant, it becomes attentive. Once authoritative, it becomes discerning. Joseph learns to observe rather than control, to protect what is emerging without attempting to define it prematurely. He stands watch over truths that arise not from reasoning, but from the deeper regions of the soul.

The shepherds symbolize our capacity to watch over our thoughts and feelings. As they keep vigil by night, we are invited into conscious awareness—learning to notice what occupies our inner field. In moments of quiet prayer or reflection, we release what is unproductive and refocus our spiritual energy on what nurtures life, wholeness, and peace.

The wise ones from the East represent the soul’s innate wisdom. Just as the oak unfolds from the acorn, so the soul unfolds according to an intelligence greater than fear. When we commit to growth, the wisdom we need is revealed step by step. The gift is not given all at once—but always on time. This is your Christmas story. The Christ is not born once in Bethlehem, but continually within the receptive, attentive, and trusting human heart.

The Mystery of Mary

YouTube: The Mystery of Mary

Among the many symbols woven through the Gospel narratives, few are as profound—and as misunderstood—as Mary. In the mystical tradition, Mary represents far more than a historical figure. She is the soul itself: receptive, expectant, open to the divine without the intervention of the intellect. Her story is the story of every awakening consciousness.

Joseph, in this symbolism, is the intellect—capable, orderly, and essential in its place, yet ultimately limited in its ability to perceive the movements of Spirit. Mary conceives without Joseph because the deepest spiritual realizations do not arise from analysis or reason. They emerge from silence, from the inner chamber where the soul listens without effort and receives without strain.

This is the mystery of the virgin birth: a consciousness that becomes still enough, uncluttered enough, to let the divine seed take root. It is not about intense study. This birth is the transformation that begins when the mind stops trying to think its way into God and instead becomes receptive to an inner knowing already present.

Every spiritual journey begins with a moment like Mary’s: an inward stirring, an unexpected clarity, a quiet “yes” that arises before we can explain or justify it. The intellect may protest—Joseph “was troubled” for good reason—but the soul knows. It senses the movement of something holy within, something that cannot be managed or controlled.

Mary’s response is the model of all mystics: “Let it be unto me according to thy word.” She does not demand understanding; she offers availability. She becomes the willing vessel in which Spirit can express itself freely.

When we enter silence—true silence—we step into this same receptive posture. Thoughts settle, expectations soften, and something deeper begins to speak. Not in sentences, but in assurance. Not in arguments, but in the sense of something greater at work.

Awareness of the soul, the biblical Christ, is born in us the same way: not by intellectual effort, but by intuitive-readiness. Not by striving, but by surrender. The mystery of Mary is the reminder that the divine does not depend on our reasoning to take form. It depends on our willingness to be still, to open, to receive.

And in that receptive moment, something luminous awakens—quietly, naturally, inevitably—within the depths of the soul.

The Inner Alignment of Power and Intelligence

YouTube: The Inner Alignment of Power and Intelligence

Jesus’ teaching on faith that “moves mountains” is not a call to defy nature but an invitation to return to our inner center—the quiet place where divine power becomes strength and divine intelligence becomes light. True strength is not personal will but alignment with the Source from which all possibility arises. This week, the teaching on Power and Intelligence takes us deeper into that alignment, showing how the light of divine guidance directs the very power that sustains us.

When Jesus urges us to “believe and not doubt in the heart,” he is describing a shift in focus. The mountain symbolizes the problem that appears immovable. Faith is not pretending the mountain isn’t there; it is remembering that we are not defined by it.

The Genesis writer captured this inner movement with the first creative command: “Let there be light.” This was not physical light but the illumination of divine intelligence—the radiant clarity that brings order to chaos. Power provides the energy, and intelligence gives it direction. Together, they form the spiritual architecture of every breakthrough, every healing, every step toward wholeness.

Like King Jehoshaphat, we all know what it is to feel overwhelmed. His prayer—“We do not know what to do, but our eyes are upon Thee”—is the perfect union of these two qualities. He releases reliance on personal strength and opens to the larger field of divine guidance (intelligence). The battle shifts from the outer to the inner field. The moment fear dissolves, clarity arises.

When we affirm “Let there be light,” we are not asking for something new to descend from the heavens; we are awakening what is already present in the soul. Divine intelligence is omnipresent, waiting for recognition. Power is ever-flowing, waiting for direction. When the two meet, mountains move—not by force, but by realization.

In quiet prayer, let your focus return to your center. Breathe in power; breathe out strength. Then affirm the light of intelligence is making your next step clear. This is the mystic’s path: strength without struggle, clarity without strain, and guidance arising from the indwelling Presence that never fails.

Life that Flows, Love that Balances

YouTube: Life That Flows, Love That Balances

Jesus said, “I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.” Abundance, in the mystical sense, is not measured in years or possessions but in awakened awareness—an inner recognition that the same vitality moving galaxies into being also breathes through us. Life is not something we possess; it is the universal energy expressing itself in every form. Stars, stones, and souls are all waves rising from one eternal ocean.

This field of life never begins and never ends. Forms appear and dissolve, but the underlying current remains untouched. What we call “death” is simply a change in expression, not a loss of life itself. To live abundantly is to recognize that the Eternal is present here and now, breathing through everything that exists.

Yet life alone does not complete the picture. The energy that animates creation also guides it, balancing and renewing all things through the law of divine love. Love is not sentiment or emotion but the active intelligence that draws to us what belongs to our wholeness and dissolves what does not. Jesus named this the greatest commandment—not as a moral burden, but as an invitation to trust the very nature of reality.

To love God is to trust the movement of divine order within our lives. To love our neighbor is to acknowledge this same movement in them. Love is always at work, even when unseen, restoring balance where confusion once held sway. When we stop resisting this flow—through forgiveness, humility, or simple willingness—we discover that love was already healing what we thought we had to fix.

Life gives us existence; love gives that existence meaning. One is the vitality at the heart of creation; the other is the intelligence that shapes it toward harmony. To awaken spiritually is to perceive both at once—to sense the living field beneath all things and to trust the love that continually renews them.

When we recognize that everything is alive and held in love’s eternal balance, we move gently, speak kindly, and live with the quiet confidence that we are part of something endless and whole.

The Accepting Prayer of Thanksgiving

YouTube: The Accepting Prayer of Thanksgiving

Last week, we explored the principle of Divine Order—the understanding that spiritual order unfolds naturally when we acknowledge it rather than attempt to force it. This week, we build on that foundation by focusing on a practice that aligns consciousness with that order: the accepting prayer of thanksgiving.

Thanksgiving is more than gratitude for what has already manifested. It is a spiritual state of receiving, a recognition that good is already in motion even when our senses have yet to confirm it. When we give thanks before the evidence appears, we shift from a mindset of striving to a mindset of trust. We are not trying to establish divine order—we are remembering that it is already present.

This is why Jesus taught, “Your Father knows what you need before you ask.” Prayer, then, is not information for God; it is preparation of the mind. Thanksgiving raises our expectation, creating a mental and emotional atmosphere in which the good we seek can be recognized and accepted.

Consider a moment in your life where anxiety overshadowed clarity. A request made from fear often assumes lack. A request offered in thankfulness acknowledges abundance. The same prayer can either close the heart or open it, depending on the consciousness in which it is spoken.

The accepting prayer of thanksgiving aligns us with spiritual reality:

•Divine order is already in motion

•Good is already unfolding

•We are prepared to receive

In this light, thanksgiving becomes an act of faith—not blind belief, but confident expectancy. We give thanks now because spiritual law is already at work. We give thanks now because good is seeking expression. We give thanks now because our role is not to create divine order but to cooperate with it.

Take a situation in your life that feels unresolved. Instead of pleading for change, affirm quietly:

“Thank you, Father, that divine order is now unfolding here.”

Let the feeling of trust do its quiet work.

Divine Order: Natural Law Unfolding

YouTube: Divine Order: Natural Law Unfolding

To speak of Divine Order is to speak of the intelligence that governs all life. From the orbit of planets to the growth of a seed, there is a quiet precision at work in the universe—an unseen harmony that sustains and directs the whole. This same intelligence is present within us. When Jesus spoke of the Way, he was pointing to this living current of order, what Taoist philosophy calls the Tao—the natural rhythm of the universe moving through every form and circumstance.

We sometimes think of order as something we must impose upon chaos. Yet spiritual order does not begin with control; it begins with recognition. Divine order is not created by our effort but revealed through our awareness. We do not establish it—we acknowledge it.

When our minds are anxious or divided, life appears fragmented. The conditions of our experience resonate with the condition of our consciousness. If we are fearful, we perceive disorder; if we are centered, we perceive the unfolding of divine intelligence. The same universe meets us in both cases, but the state of our inner lens determines what we see.

To live in harmony with divine order is to trust the larger pattern even when appearances suggest confusion. Jesus demonstrated this trust repeatedly. Whether facing hunger, illness, or the turbulence of human emotion, he responded from an inner alignment with the law of Spirit—the natural law of perfect balance and renewal. His life was an example of cooperation with the Way, not resistance to it.

When an area of life feels out of control, we can pause and remember: divine order is not absent; it is waiting to be acknowledged. In prayer, in stillness, in the simple act of breathing deeply, we align ourselves with the steady rhythm of universal intelligence.

Affirm quietly: Divine order is now established here. The natural law of perfect order is now unfolding.

As we rest in that awareness, outer conditions begin to mirror the peace of inner knowing. What once felt chaotic reveals itself as life reorganizing around truth. The Way has never ceased moving; we are simply learning again to walk with it.

Visualization

YouTube: Visualization: Two Sides of the Same Faculty

Visualization is one of the most powerful tools of spiritual growth, yet it is often misunderstood. We tend to think of it as an exercise of the imagination—a mental picture we hold in mind until it somehow materializes in the outer world. But visualization is not just about what we see in the mind’s eye. It is equally about what we feel. These are not two separate processes, but two sides of the same inner faculty. Seeing and feeling belong together.

The imagination provides the picture, the emotional nature supplies the vitality. Together, they create a magnetic field that draws corresponding conditions into our experience. When imagination works without feeling, our visualizations are lifeless—colorless outlines that never take form. When emotion works without clear vision, we experience a surge of energy without direction. The union of the two brings both clarity and power.

Every thought we hold has an emotional tone. When we visualize a desired outcome—health, harmony, abundance—it is not enough to see the image as if it were projected on a screen outside ourselves. We must inwardly feel the reality of what we are picturing. The emotion is not mere excitement or wishful enthusiasm. It is the quiet confidence that what we are envisioning already exists in spiritual substance, waiting only for our conscious recognition.

In this sense, visualization is not about trying to make something happen. It is about aligning ourselves with what already is. When imagination and feeling are coordinated, the heart and mind become partners in creation. The picture is the form, and the feeling is the life. Each without the other is incomplete.

To practice visualization effectively, begin by relaxing the body and calming the mind. Picture your ideal clearly, but more importantly, enter into the emotional atmosphere of that vision. Feel gratitude as though the good you seek were already yours. Allow this feeling to saturate the image until it becomes alive and radiant. Then let it go in trust.

Visualization and emotion are two expressions of a single creative power. When they move together in harmony, they awaken the deeper law of manifestation that Jesus called “believing in your heart.”

Jesus the Mystic: The Voice Beneath the Doctrine

YouTube: Introduction To The Whispering Messiah, read by Rev. Doug

In this opening reflection from The Whispering Messiah, J Douglas Bottorff invites us into the quiet tension between two voices within the Gospels—Jesus the evangelist and Jesus the mystic. One calls for belief in his person; the other points to direct experience of God’s indwelling presence.

Through the lens of contemplative Christianity and the timeless wisdom of the mystics, Bottorff traces his own awakening to that subtler voice—the whisper beneath the hymn of orthodoxy—that calls us inward, beyond doctrine, to the living Presence itself.
If you’ve ever felt caught between faith and spiritual experience, this message offers a path toward reconciliation and renewal. It’s an invitation to listen—not merely to what has been said about Jesus, but to what he himself heard.