A foundation of trust is what we most crave as children. With an alcoholic father and narcissistic mother, that craving was never nourished and a foundation was never laid. I’m sure I’m not alone in this alternative foundation.

The way this played out in my story is, uncertainty always plagued me in matters of love. “I love you” were words that floated through my senses with no anchor, no meaning beyond a pleasantry, no sense of knowing if it was true.

Recently, a measure of reverence has begun to build a foundation of trust within me.

A reverence toward the Universe co-creating my life, with a mystical deliberation, has deepened.

A trust that, what unfolds in our lives is in our best interest, even when it seems otherwise. And, the consequences that unfold when we don’t listen.

After my mom’s recent heart surgery, I brought her back to her senior home exhausted and exasperated. The surgery was unsuccessful. I tucked her in bed, shut out the lights, and made sure her roommate was OK in the dark so early in the day.

“Oh sure,” she says with a big smile, “I’m fine.” With relief, I gave her a big hug and said, “I like you so much!” And we shared a giggle of reciprocal gratitude.

A few weeks later, when my mom had recovered, she had the opportunity to repay the kindness. And more than this, repay a karmic debt. (if you believe in such things?)

Gut pain had mom’s roommate crying out in the night. Mom ignored the cry’s believing she was just being dramatic. In the morning, mom found her dead in her bed with, what we later learned was, a twisted colon that caused septicemia.

In my youth, mom had made the same nighttime turn-the-other-cheek decision, when my dad would leave her bed and slip into mine. He’d been arrested as a pedophile and she had two young girls in the house. She never once got up to check on us! (Here lays her karmic debt.)

This time, someone ended up dead, due to her inability to extend herself toward others. And, though she felt guilty about having done nothing, she showed no ability to feel concern, empathy or love when it was needed. Not then; not now!

As I see it, the Universe has provided multiple opportunities for my mom to learn important life lessons about acts of love. Each opportunity becoming more dire to coax her into taking action. She may not be listening, but I am.

I see now that her inaction, or inability to act out of love, is NOT due to MY unlovability. It’s due to HER love-abilities, or lack there of.

My reverence to the Universe—my mom’s roommate being a central part of that—for repeating history for me to learn, has transformed me from the inside out. It has given me a foundation to trust love.

From a giggle of reciprocal gratitude to sharing the words I love you with my partner, I feel a stir of deep deliverance. Because it’s finally anchored in being lovable.

A measure of reverence, toward something bigger than my story, transformed the consequences of my story. Thank you dear Universe. Thank you dear roommate.

How has your reverence for a world bigger than your own shaped your life?