Often a song, ( see below *) a line follows you room to street, hallways, people, words, events, even the fantastic pales next to these few words smashing out everything else, like a River, a Tide – not because of a setback or a difficulty. Not even because one is excessive joyful… not even that.
I’ve never found reasons why one is drawn to a particular strain, a thought, a hunger. Is it an inner quest, a call from outside of our psyche ? Do we stumble on Treasure ? Does It lie waiting for us…
are there seasons of the soul, a certain Quest, an unspoke-request, a certain arrival and leaving, like airplanes, like lounges.. like skies melting into a new horizon every new second, returning renewed, there, not there – changed, re-arranged and yet as old as young, infinity ageless weathered, new… is there a plan we know ? Are these Maps we draw ; do we surrender to a Captain, should we ..
we are travellers, resting here a while, then a 10 feet plunge to new heights, who can tell with an adventure ? Who knows? When one leaves the security of a house with a fence, and asks for a walk with an Unseen God, you ask for new routes, for the unpredictable – for what eye can no longer see, what human ear has not heard nor been conceived in the heart of us ..
this this this, gives me Rest. That we can run a river, walk a tide, skim a cloud, melt a desert ; no other way would I have survived the boredom of a predictable life, predictable soul- wardrobe, uppity tables with no picnics, no five loaves and two fish miracles, what ‘ no miracles’? Oh Baby baby, how do we survive the monotony of global warming and Stock market crash, the rise and fall of petrol price, government – horror and crime, life and death – not things one can control, and this :
that one can lean on the One that loves relentlessly, keeping no tabs and tally, just needing me as I am, needing my trust. This December 2013 made it all real ; there was a time I would have cringed from saying this in a blog, not today. Not after you see somethings sitting alone in a room next to Intensive care : I saw dead eyes and dying faces even outside in christmas stores, in lanes filling with shoppers, not anything totally owned/ made/ filled the day with light except a Light we never made.
I saw my spirit rise ; saw a strange woman offer me a hot flask of coffee on a cold empty noon and the words ” I love you” in broken english and some telugu – a village woman asking me to pray for her kid with a kidney crisis ; who am I to even say yes to that request ; who am I except that yes we have the power to love back at least, kneel, the power to be humble in a public place, request life for each other, and watch as we do nothing else except lean. I watched too, my dad return to life. No explanations. I was preparing for death, was not ready for life. For the Joy that followed…
we know we will all die some day. As I write this there is a more than one death within a mile, but there is life. So much more life than we let ourself live, and that has startled me today, that we short change ourselves so lethally –
I stand in amazement at the One who made it all ; stunned by His almost scandalous Grace, at how He cares through every misunderstanding of His fathomless Love, realising how little I know of a Universe so complex, even my being. Who can tell what they hold within – do we realise who and what we are inside, do we not limit ourself when we refuse to walk on waters, let go, trust without borders…wherever He would call me… wherever dear God… wherever…
this is the single most freeing way I have ever been : where trust is without borders.. the great Unknown, dear God why are we so afraid that we be- little You with theories when we have not even a count of stars out there…