By Gonny 
Scrolling through Facebook this morning, I came across a message shared by Tess Jungblut that caught my attention. It wasn’t just another quote to pass by with a casual like—it was one of those messages that make you stop, reread, and suddenly feel like the universe is nudging you in the ribs, whispering, “Hey, pay attention!”
The message reads:
“Jesus says: You were with me when I arose.
When I awakened from the dream of death, it had nothing to do with physical resurrection, a gross misunderstanding of what happened.
When I awoke from the dream of death, you were with me because we are one mind.
You are still with me, but you are so afraid of my love because in that presence of that love your individual self disappears.
You are so afraid of that love that you push me away.”
I thought: what Is this message really saying?
At first glance, this passage challenges a traditional view of resurrection. It suggests that awakening from the dream of death is not about returning to a physical body but waking up to a deeper truth—one where separation is just an illusion.
And the good news: We were never separate from that awakening. We were always there, always part of it, because we are one mind.
Then the part that makes this message feel so personal:
“You are still with me, but you are so afraid of my love because in that presence of that love your individual self disappears.”
Let’s be honest—who wouldn’t feel a little nervous at the idea of their individual self disappearing? I mean, I’ve spent a lifetime carefully curating my personality, my quirks, my unique way of cooking and filling the dishwasher (which, by the way, is obviously the right way). And now Jesus is telling me that love is going to erase all of that?!
Why are we afraid of love?
At first, it sounds absurd. Why would we push away the very thing we spend our entire lives seeking? Love is supposed to be the goal, the thing we crave, the answer to all our troubles. But this isn’t just any love. This is the big kind—the love that dissolves illusions, melts identities, and strips away everything we thought made us who we are. This is not a Disney-movie kind of love that comes with soft music and a cozy ending. This is the full-throttle, no-escape, unconditional, ego-dissolving kind of love.
And here’s where things get really interesting: We resist it.
We crave love but also fear it. Why? Because deep down, we sense that true love—pure, unconditional love—doesn’t care about our little human drama. It doesn’t care about our achievements, our failures, or the stories we tell ourselves about who we are. It just is.
And if we truly embraced that love, it would mean letting go of the idea that we are separate, special, or somehow different from the divine itself. And, well… that’s terrifying.
So, what do we do with a message like this? We could keep resisting, sure. But what if—just for a moment—we stopped?
What if, instead of pushing love away, we leaned into it?
What if we dared to trust that what disappears in its presence is only the illusion of who we thought we were—while what remains is something infinitely greater?
What if the real joke here is that we were never actually separate in the first place?
It’s like waking up from a dream where you thought you were lost, only to realize you were safe in your own bed the entire time.
And maybe—just maybe—love isn’t something to be feared.
Maybe love is just waiting for us to wake up.
With love and light,
G.