For eleven years I was a part of team that went to gatherings on the earth that were not God focused. We went with as little agenda and religion as we could. We went to love the way we had been loved.

Our camp offered a variety of gifts to the community. One of our gifts was to offer words of light, encouragement and healing. That gifting was offered under a MASH style tent, and we worked in teams of three. Greeters for those that came would discern who to sit with which team. I remember a particular tale when a young man named Brit came to sit with us.

The left half of Brit’s hair was dark and curly. The right side of his head was shaved. Alternatively, his facial hair was shaved on the right half, while on his left side, his beard was full. I was the team leader this time, and was training two men that were new that year to our group. We exchanged names and greeted each other. Then Brt said, “I know what I want. It’s not on your menu. Is that ok?”

He went on to explain. Here he was at the festival. His girlfiend wanted to touch his bottom. He felt uncomfortable and ashamed. He had gone to a psychic camp a few blocks away. They had led him in a meditation that had led them to believe he was molested in a different life time. He wanted to know if there was anything we could do.

My soul had opinions on what is appropriate and not. My soul would have tried to correct his thinking to match mine and he would have one more religious hypocrite story to add to his repertoire.

I checked with Father. He was clear. He wanted to love his son. He wanted to use me to do it. He gave me language.

I asked Brit if it was okay to invite the Creator of his anal region to come. He nodded. The tears began. Father came. Father healed. Father loved his son. And Brit knew he had tasted something different. Something indescribably good. Some one who loved without condition.

Honestly by the time he finished his encounter I felt a mother’s affection, and almost patted his behind as he headed out. Watching Father do what he does, what he has done for me, always wrecks me. The two young men I was training came away changed too. Challenged, with new questions for their dad, and new revelation of the size of his love.

I did not have the responsibility to parent Brit once he left the camp. That was not given to me. My job was to create an environment for him to meet the one who created him. Oh, that more people would!