The Law of Divine Compensation: Making Love the Bottom Line and Transforming a Negative Sense of Sel
In Marianne Williamson’s book, The Law of Divine Compensation, she says, “Putting love first means knowing that the universe supports you in creating the good, the holy, and the beautiful. It means knowing that you’re on the earth for a purpose, and that the purpose itself will create opportunities for its accomplishments.”
I used to think my purpose was to make enough money to survive. And quite frankly, it was a purpose I wasn’t necessarily good at fulfilling. For me, being in survival mode limited my view of the world around me.
It is one of the reasons I love our teachings and her book. The book invites us to trust that the Universe is already moving to correct any experiences we may have of lack or loss because wholeness is its natural state. Spirit doesn’t withhold things from us; it flows through us. The trick, if you will, is to remember that it responds to the consciousness we bring. So, we can block our flow by the power of our thoughts.
So how do we make love the bottom line in our life? First, it’s not a matter of “What can I get?” and more a choice of “How can I serve?” When you go into a place of business, you can tell immediately if the energy is one of service. Those are the places we usually revisit—often.
In life, when we come from fear, we tend to hoard, compete and mistrust. When we allow love to guide us, we are more apt to create, give and collaborate.
When a group of us founded Everyday Center for Spiritual Living, it was an act of absolute love. It started in our living room. Some Sundays the only people who were present were me, our music team, the Core Council members and practitioners. We could have doubted and gone to fear, and yet our faith persevered and people kept showing up. I am happy to say that the Center is still going strong.
I find it interesting that even when love is the bottom line in something we have created and in the people, we associate with, we sometimes run a deficit with ourselves. We tend to be our own worst critic. Our inner critic can run rampant telling us we’re not good enough, we’re too old/young, and I could go on—forever! Truth is, that negative self-image is not who you are. We are God in form, and nothing we have ever done can undo that.
I certainly had no concept of God or being God in form. Finding a Religious Science (CSL) community and studying the Science of Mind opened up a whole new sense of purpose and belonging for me. Am I always in that zone—no, of course not. I am human, and my monkey mind still likes to run rampant if I let it. The difference is now I have the tools. I’ve learned that I can’t demonstrate beyond my own level of consciousness. So, the question then becomes, “Why do I want to limit my good?”
Life is full of opportunities, and the abundance of the Divine is ever-present; give yourself grace and let go and let God.
Blessings on your journey,
Rev. Gayle
When I first discovered the Science of Mind, it felt like coming home. I later learned I wasn't alone in that. Many people describe the very same feeling the first time they walk into a Centers for Spiritual Living (Religious Science) center.
I'll never forget my very first Foundations class. My mentor looked at us and said, "I have some good news, and I have some bad news. The good news is: you are responsible for your life. The bad news is (you guessed it): you are responsible for your life."
Yes, things are going to happen to us — that's life. We may not be responsible for the event. We are always responsible for how we respond to it.
Marianne Williamson calls this the Law of Divine Compensation. Ernest Holmes simply called it Law. And here's the thing: this Law is at work in our lives whether we believe in it or not. We don't have to understand gravity to fall down the stairs. We don't have to understand the Law of Divine Compensation to be living under it — right now.
Williamson's premise is simple and radical: whenever there is loss or lack in our lives, the Universe is programmed to compensate. Not someday. Not if we earn it. It is the nature of the Divine to restore, renew, and make whole. Our job is to get out of the way and let it.
I look back at the first fifty years of my life and see how I created the very chaos that was the bane of my existence. Every. Single. Day. The truth is, whatever we believe about ourselves, the Universe says YES to. I was a gerbil on an exercise wheel — running round and round and going absolutely nowhere. Once I stopped (which was a process, and quite frankly still is), my life shifted and aligned with the new thoughts I held about myself. And nothing changes the conversation you have with yourself faster than someone who knows the Truth about you speaking your word and declaring, "And so it is." Thank you, Rev. Suzi!
In her book, Williamson reminds us that faith isn't a feeling — it's a decision. It's easy to have faith when life is humming along on all four wheels. It takes courage to choose faith when a tire flies off and you're holding on with every fiber of your being. For me, faith is knowing the Universe is always quietly working things out on my behalf. All I have to do is look back — at the mishaps, the misjudgments, the near misses — to see that even before I knew it, the Universe had my back. It always has.
So, here's what I'd tell my younger self, and what I'll tell you: you are responsible for your life. And that? That's the good news.
Blessings on your journey,
Rev. Gayle
"Our Divine nature never deserts us. Like the prodigal son we may wander into far countries of despair, but the Divinity within us ever gently urges us back to the center of our true being; It ever reminds us of Its presence. If we permit It, this spiritual Self will direct our every decision with intelligence and make perfect our way before us." ~Ernest Holmes, Spiritual Awareness
On October 19, 2002, I shifted my life from drug addict and alcoholic to drug-free, alcohol-free, and cigarette-free. It was my personal epiphany. My life changed for the better. I am not saying I didn't have challenges. More than once, my finances were disastrous, and yet I never lost or questioned my faith.
Being a minister during the pandemic had its own opportunities. Carey Nieuwhof, a Christian minister I follow, said at the time that ministry had always had its challenges, but now it was just hell. I still never lost or questioned my faith.
I didn't lose my faith this past year, yet I certainly questioned my beliefs. Does Spiritual Mind Treatment really work? Have I been fooling myself believing in something greater than me? The answers are absolutely and no. The thing I needed to remember is that which I choose to call God never leaves us. We may have moments of doubt or fear or disillusionment, and It stands like a sentry, waiting for us to acknowledge Its presence.
The truth is, life doesn't come with a playbook. I look at a group of friends I have who are all widows. My first thought is that each one is too young. My deeper, more compassionate thought is to honor their perseverance. Each handles her heartbreak with absolute grace, and each carries that grace in her own way. These women, in spite of their loss or maybe because of it, have the audacity to be comfortable. By comfortable, I don't mean complacent. I mean at home in their own skin, at rest in the Presence even when life isn't easy.
Every single one of us is going to face loss sometime in our lives. Grandparents, parents, children, friends, partners, pets—it happens. And that was my biggest fear this year. Was the person I lean on, the one who always has my back, going to be taken away from me? It is not "easy" to watch the person you love go through chemotherapy and gallbladder issues and then prepare for radiation. And yet I have come to the place of knowing I, too, have the audacity to be this comfortable.
How we live our lives through all the ups and downs is a choice. If we let them, they can make us bitter victims. Be like my friends—it's not the cards you're dealt that matter; it's how you play the hand. Like the prodigal son, we may wander, and that sentry is still standing, gently calling us home.
Blessings on your journey,
Rev. Gayle
Rev. Gayle
"God is Spirit, or Self-Knowingness; God is Law and action; God is result or Body."** ~Ernest Holmes, The Science of Mind
Here's a sentence I never expected to type: your body is a theological statement.
Not a mistake. Not an inconvenience you're dragging around while the "real" spiritual you does the important work somewhere up in the clouds. Holmes puts Body right there in the same breath as Spirit and Law — not underneath them, not despite them. The body is where the invisible becomes visible. It's God, showing up with a face and a heartbeat and — let's be honest — some genuinely strange noises.
I grew up with a mother and older sister who believed if you weren't thin, you weren't happy. I am sure my sister learned this from my mom, and my mom probably was taught this jewel by her mom. A couple of real memories: hugging my sister hello and her whispering in my ear, "you should really lose at least ten pounds"; or from my mother, "I always know when you're unhappy — you start wearing jeans to hide your weight." It is not easy to love your body when those you love demean you.
We are so practiced at being embarrassed by our own bodies. We apologize for stomachs that growl during meditation, for the wrinkle that showed up overnight, for the fact that grief made us cry in the church parking lot and someone saw. Somewhere along the way, we absorbed the idea that a "spiritual" person floats slightly above all that — untroubled, unbothered, un-embodied. It's a lovely idea. It's also nonsense.
Because here's the truth Science of Mind keeps handing back to us: we don't get to Truth by escaping the body. We get there by moving *through* it. "We shall never know peace until we embody it," Holmes writes — not think it, not theorize it. Embody it. That word is doing a lot of work. It means the Divine isn't allergic to your body. It moved in on purpose.
I'll be honest, I like my body when I am wearing a size eight versus a size twelve. Is that conditioning? Probably. And it's the truth. Am I ashamed of liking my body at a smaller size? No — the truth is, I feel healthier, I move more easily, and I have a lot less aches and pains. I'm comfortable in loving my body, and I am comfortable knowing everyone has a right to choose how they appear in the world. I love Lizzo. I love her confidence and her loving herself enough to be exactly who she is without letting an industry shame her into being something different.
None of this means every ache or limitation is secretly a blessing in disguise, or that we're supposed to grit our teeth and call our suffering holy. It means something gentler: that the body having needs, limits, sounds, and seasons is not evidence that something went wrong. It's evidence that something is alive. Shame has had a long, lucrative career convincing us otherwise — that the right body is quiet, controlled, and endlessly cooperative. Yours doesn't have to audition for that role.
We will stay whole — not despite having bodies, but because we finally stopped treating them like the secret we have to keep.
Blessings on your journey,
Rev. Gayle
Rev. Gayle
Before I became clean and sober, I didn't much like myself, which meant I wasn't really fond of other people either. I used to hang out with a group; we nicknamed ourselves the "fashion police." Not that we ever really handed out tickets and we were in constant judgment about what people were wearing. The thing I have learned about judgment is if you judge other people, they are certainly going to judge you. It is a reciprocal universe.
Last week I wrote about learning to inhabit my own body instead of just occupying it. What I didn't say is that the same lesson applies to every body I encounter — not just mine.
Here's the truth I don't love admitting: I have judged bodies that weren't mine. Not out loud, not even always consciously — but the thought crosses before I catch it. Too old. Too much. Not enough. We've all absorbed decades of messaging that tells us which bodies are acceptable and which ones need explaining. Diet culture, fatphobia, ageism, racism, colorism — they all whisper the same lie: your body is a problem to be solved.
I don't think that's an accident, and I don't think it's harmless. If the Divine chose to show up as physical form — if, as Ernest Holmes put it, humanity is the place where heaven and earth meet — then every time we treat a body as unacceptable, we're rejecting a little piece of God showing up in the world. If judgment is reciprocal, so is grace.
I have never felt so much love and support as I have experienced from the Light on the Mountains CSL community, especially after my Achilles tendon surgery. From being carried down to a canoe while in a non-weight bearing cast and then floating down Silver Creek like Cleopatra floating down the Nile. This community has opened its hearts and homes to me prior to, during and after my injury. It's how that Divine presence shows up for us. I love the quote, "Don't tell God you've got big problems, tell your problems you've got a big God." ~Unknown. That is what the Light on the Mountains community demonstrates time and time again.
Togetherness is not an abstract, spiritual idea. It is bodies — in pews, at tables, in hugs held a beat too long because someone needed it. You cannot be in community without being in a body, near other bodies. That's not a limitation of the spiritual life. That's the whole point of it. Spirit didn't choose the physical as a compromise. It chose the physical as the way to know itself at all — and it chose to do that in more than one body, so we could know each other, too.
So, this week, the invitation isn't just to inhabit your own body — it's to notice how you inhabit the space around other people's. Where do you make room? Where do you flinch, compare, or quietly withhold? What would it look like to greet the body in front of you — whatever shape, age, ability, or color it comes in — as the place where God also lives?
We say we want to build a world that works for everyone. That has to include everyone's body, exactly as it is today, not as it is once it changes to meet somebody else's standard.
Blessings on your journey,
Rev. Gayle
