In so many ways I cling to the tangible in my friendships–my imperfect, cluttered human relationships, none of which go as deep as I would like. I can’t see friends’ souls so I cling to smirks and gestures which are the displayers of emotion, of soul behind skin. I cling to the tangible so it’s hard to claim to have a relationship with the unseeable, intangible One who already knows me better than I know myself. Sometimes I say I can feel His smile, but that’s not the same as seeing it; sometimes I think I can hear Him speak, His words but a whisper on the wind, but that’s not the same as knowing a person by his voice. Now we see dimly, but someday we shall see face to face. I’m not patient though. I don’t want to wait for this elusive someday. I have no choice.
See, the curtain ripped but not all was revealed. I’m still dealing with the results of the fall, and (sometimes subconsciously) longing for something more. I can never know God well here on this earth, though I try, for my life here is but a shadow and a mist. Even so I must live for the fraction of Him that I do know. While still here I must strive to know more of God, and to serve Him with all of my being. I doubt that I will ever know God fully, not even in eternity, but then at least I shall see Him. I wonder what will be like to see someone I’ve known all my life but never seen. I wonder if his revealment will be the perfect fulfillment, a kind of duh moment– “Of course that’s what He looks like!”–or if seeing God will totally surprise me and unveil Him in ways I had never thought to see Him before.
I feel that what I am writing may be very difficult to follow. I know it is unpolished at best. This, among other reasons, is why I’ve not been writing lately. It’s not that I’ve not been thinking and growing, but rather that my thoughts grow increasingly more intertwined and harder to categorize as working towards a cohesive point or goal as the days drag on. Doesn’t that sound deep and philosophical?