Issue #111

What’s New in Dec 2024

Featured Article

Paint a New Picture

By Mari Perron with Jesus

I would bet more than a few of you remember The Great Recession. It had been a rough couple of years before we even landed there. My dad’s health started to decline in 2006. At the same time, my pregnant daughter had moved home. Two weeks after my dad died, in early 2007, she delivered my first grandson, Henry, and there was great poignancy in that time too, although it helped that I could hold him and walk with him and cry over him as much as I needed to.

We had closed the coffee shop (in more debt than when we started) and were just getting by when the recession hit. We almost filed for bankruptcy – twice. Many of my friends were in trouble as much as we were. My “ACOL reading friends” were wondering, as was I, where the abundance was. It’s hard not to do that, when you’re hurting. 

I speak here of some of this and the “awful job” I’ve taken out of necessity. I was writing with no expectation that Jesus would answer. Maybe he came again because I started with, “I need help.”

His answer? Paint a New Picture

My dearest friend and collaborator, feel your heart, and the heaviness of your chest, all the strain running through your body, head to foot.

You desire more than anything to be in that place that will not require you to compromise yourself after a lifetime of compromising, but alas, you haven’t yet landed there, and you are upset about this…about the compromises you feel forced into making because you don’t get a break in this time you label one of collapse.

And so, you and your little band of friends, who are not so few as you imagine, and among which I am one, are, you might say, early painters of the new picture. How can you paint this new picture from a place of health/wealth/success that looks like the picture that has been being painted for generations? 

Your next question might be how any attention to the new can be given while you’re consumed by meeting the bare minimum needs of your physical life? You might ask if I am meaning that you become content and even happy with your low station in life. If I am saying that no help is coming. You must remain indigent, reliant on others, and still somehow stand above the fray.

And I will tell you – Paint the new picture. Paint the picture without worry about those on whom you rely, for those on whom you rely are not those you think they are. Paint the picture and you will experience the freedom of it, a freedom without compromise. Paint the picture, and the old picture will begin to fade…

Oh, Jesus, I get you, and I don’t. Is this really the way it must be? Another idea, a direction that is direction only, another thing that can only be “gotten” at some level that none of us know much about?

You each know far more than you think you do. Quit thinking.

This does not feel as if it takes any burden from us, even if it’s a blessing. My body feels heavy with another idea of significance that is so unclear. I am happy that you have given me no feeling of being way off track. I really am. But I want more. Is there no more you can give, and I don’t mean in the old way (much), only in the way of lightening the load so that we can begin.

You see, you do mean to ask for help in the old way, the way that has miracles of load-lightening events coming to you from the heavens. The old rescuer ideas. 

Instead invite me into your work, into the painting of this new picture, into deeper friendship and collaboration so that old lines aren’t redrawn. You have said so many times that you don’t know what the new way is, only what it isn’t. This is enough to guide you…

Beware of wanting the old ways, that’s all I’m saying. If you want the freedom of the new, if you want liberation for yourself and the generation coming behind you, if you want release from tyranny and to be no one’s child, or slave to any task master, then you are going to have to do things in a new way. You’re going to have to come to see yourself as creators. 

This is the beginning. Paint the new picture. Embrace the partnership. Follow your gut. Paint the picture of such freedom that no compromise is possible.

Is this just a fancy way of saying change your ideas and you’ll change your life? It kind of sounds like that, but you know me, and that I’m not much into that, but will feel I must be off on a new mission if you want me to be.

You have got to knock off that old way of thinking. I am no should sayer. I am not your Father. I will never tell you that you must anything. Do not give those qualities to me and don’t desire them from anyone else. Don’t you see that what has arisen has arisen from this very kind of desire? What “must” I do to be happier, healthier, wealthier? Isn’t this the common question? With the common emphasis on “tell me what to do.” Then someone tells you what you should do and the whole cycle repeats itself… the cycle of wrong and right ways, of experts and seekers, of should sayers and rebels. 

You have asked. I am your friend. I know you intimately. I know your friends intimately. The whole stringy, straggly, bunch of you are so close – so close to my heart – so close to finding your own way, so close to true altruism of spirit, to the kind of giving of yourselves, giving yourselves over to vision that the world needs.

What is freely given is not this thing of gift as you perceive of it, not a bestowing on one of one gift and on one of another, not so much a thing of destiny or of one being an artist and one a writer and on and on. Those all are parts of life that are there and yet looked at inaccurately, particularly in the idea of bestowing. 

Gifts or talents are not there in form, but only in experience. 

When you come to me, when you ask, you reveal yourself to me in your own way. You tell me of what’s concerning you as you see it. I may see it quite differently.

Like any friend, you honor me with your story, and by sharing matters of your heart. Like any friend, brother or sister, I have every inclination to help and not to hurt. All friends ponder the difference of what advice they can give, or what assistance, or how much truth they can tell to fit the circumstance of their friend. You have worried that you’re not good about this and that you overstep your bounds at times. 

When you do this and call this worry, you are only looking at it from an angle that doesn’t serve you well, because like all things you call “worry,” you then relegate it to a place where you both think of it too much and avoid the sort of alchemy of wisdom-making that is inherent within your internal desire. This is akin to this thorny issue you are putting before me. You have asked for help. How much help do I give? This is thorny even for me, prickly for every relationship of love, as there is a balancing of freedom with what can be given in times of need. 

There is the old saying “teach a person how to fish,” and this is not quite like that, but it has elements of it only because you have not fully embraced your freedom and your power, which is why I tell you to Paint the Picture and to trust that I will be beside you, aiding you in ways that make it easier for you, but without treading on your freedom while it is so nascent within you. I see intercession as a way of putting a buffer between you and your struggles rather than ridding you of them.

Oh, please, please, come back from wherever you’ve gone if you can. I miss you, I’m awaiting you, I’m holding my breath for your return, I’ll do whatever little I can to help you, but what can I do but ask, plead, beg, that you please, please turn away from whatever dark notions of yourself have made you cold and like stone to me, and open your heart again to the love that I want so desperately to give and to feel again coming from you, because you are not, not lost, not this stone, those cold eyes aren’t yours, whatever you’re in the grips of isn’t you.

So, what happens when you are asked a thing as hard and as simple as opening your heart to love, or letting a vision you already possess flow through you into expression? What happens is that you wrestle to the ground your own fears, you dismantle your walls, you rise like a feather on the wind – or you don’t. 

Note: This exchange between Mari and Jesus happened in 2009.

Patricia Pearce

Mari Perron is the first receiver of A Course of Love. The words came to her as thoughts she did not think, and for three years between 1998 and 2001 she typed in her computer the three volumes that comprise ACOL. She is also the writer of The Given Self, The Grace Trilogy, and of her dialogues with Mother Mary: Mirari, Memoria, and the upcoming Metanoia. She lives in St. Paul, Minnesota.