4.28.2011

Þú Ert Jörðin & Leaves of Gold


"I do not know how the great loving Father
will bring out light at last, 
but He knows, and He will do it."
-David Livingstone

Long in waiting, I have no idea what I will write.
I only know that for a couple of weeks now, it's been pressing on me to write here again.

On my desk sits a thousand things.
Old film and picture frames. Old books full of poetry.
Most of it still unread.
Letters in a box overflowing.
Sunglasses from a distant land.
Notes. Timelines. CDs. Folders and calendars. 
Wire, books, and string.
Rocks covered in salt from the Dead Sea.
Sand dollars. Sea shells.
Glass bottles full of notes for me.
Purple and pink flowers fading...

      This semester has been something. That's for sure. I guess this is what college is supposed to feel like? I have learned so much. And mostly from the two classes that I was completely dreading! Isn't that ironic? In fact, the teacher I feared the most at the beginning of the semester taught me the most. 
      I was stretched. I was tried. I was poked and prodded and challenged. It was beautiful. Incredibly, annoyingly painful, but beautiful. Beautiful. That word carries such weight. Such marvelous weight of meaning! It's heady. It's potent... But I can't go there just now.

      -mark momentary pondering, back-spacing and frustrated contemplation on the next move in this post...-

     A statement worth noting here that was mentioned this past semester is, "Human beings cannot live without poetry." That's a pretty bold statement. But I'm wondering more and more at how true it seems. We can't live without this charged form of language. There are just some things that we cannot describe in the form of prose properly. A sunset. The birth of a child. Falling in love... And even God. There are some parts of the Bible that we enjoy not only for it's instruction and importance or application, but because it's beautifully written. Because, as my professor says, "It's darn good poetry."
     I have so much yet to learn. And I'm wondering how I walked around before without knowing all the things I know now. It's interesting how enriched our lives become with heightened understanding. And it's not that I'm claiming to lay hold of truth. It's laying hold of me. I have to wrestle with it. And it's risky! Because it changes you. It touches something in the core of your being.
     Now that's something I've been learning this semester. Do you ever wonder... We sometimes hold God at arm's length. "Yes, I want to feel Your comfort and Your presence and Your love... but don't get too close! Whoa! Right there is quite close enough. Yes, that's close enough. Maybe scoot back a couple of inches... You're making me uncomfortable." Do you know what I'm talking about? Right. So, why do we do that? Why do we look into the face of perfect love and say, "Nah, too much of a good thing has to be bad for you."
     I think it's more than a fear of disappointment. After all, God has never given us a reason not to trust Him. I think it's a fear of what His love will do to us. Because, no doubt we will change. You will be transformed. How could you not be? How could your world not be utterly rocked when wrapped inside the arms of the God of the universe? "It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of a living God." (Hebrews 10:31). Are we not to consider such things carefully? Then abandon ourselves to it recklessly...
     Sounds radical, doesn't it? Faith. Surrender.
     But we fear change, I think. Could it be that we're afraid of what we could be? Or maybe what we'll never be... To truly wrestle with truth and beauty and reality and love... these things will mark us. The fight will leave us with a limp for the rest of our lives. But what if we limp away seeing the world differently? More clearly? More vibrantly? More fully?
     I will not pretend to have all of this figured out. That's the beauty of it too. The mystery. The pursuit. The chase. The constant knowing and seeking to know more. The moment, still and moving. And this isn't some unattainable meditative or super-ultra-spiritual state. It doesn't mean you're impossibly joyful or unearthly serene all of the time. It means you're alive.
      You know... those moments in the mundane. The monotony. Can you see it? The wind blowing the trees. The blue against the green. The feeling of the sun's warmth on your chilled fingers. The smell of food when you're hungry and about to eat. The feeling when you just finished something. The jingling of keys. The feeling of sitting after standing a long time... Do you know what I'm talking about? A true poet can see beauty in the most simple things. The hard and the plain things. In the real things.

     I have a lot of work ahead of me. And, at the moment, I don't really know what's going to happen. I'm moving forward, hoping that I'm going in the right direction. Hoping. Expectant. Waiting.
     You know, that place where you've done everything you can do... so now it's up to Him. And letting go can be so hard, because I still hold responsibility. I still have to try. I still have to run, trusting that He's guiding me. And life is crazy. Unexpected. Well, at least it is to me. To Him, well, He knows everything. That's why it's good to be holding onto His hand.

"Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait."
- Henry W. Longfellow


4 comments:

A girl with a smile said...

I can relate so well with each word. I missed your thoughts here

Kaleigh said...

Wow, your paragraph about wanting to keep God at a safe distance really speaks to the way I feel about this summer. It's scary knowing He's going to radically change me and not knowing exactly what He'll do and how He'll do it. Your words are beautiful. Glad to see you posting!

Sydney said...

I just love that last quote and your words.

Candice said...

I love your musings on life, spirituality, and things you're learning. I also missed your thoughts here! Glad to see you back :)

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