"Lovest thou Me?" My love for Jesus seems small and pitiful to me, an insubstantial, vaporous thing that might be blown away or simply disintegrate at any moment, and yet, it also seems impossibly precious. I am full of hope about what it might become, but that hope is a fragile one.
Shortly after I began this blog, I was sitting with some friends, trying to describe the mystery of what I felt was happening as I undertook this pilgrimage. I used the word "intimacy" to describe what I desired in terms of a relationship with God, and one of my friends reacted strongly and harshly to the use of that word. She said she thought that intimacy was a pipe dream which led people astray when they searched for it. Expecting it and not finding it caused the seeker to grow disillusioned, she said. She argued that love for God is a commitment, a choice that once made needed to be honored, and that feelings weren't really part of the picture. Her arguments were not new to me; they have been the basis of my faith for most of my life. Listening to her, I felt the fragile beginnings I had been attempting to describe crumble as though they had never existed in the first place, and I was left clutching empty air. I responded in anger and then despair as my hope that Christianity offered more than I had yet experienced dwindled away.
The next morning, however, I discovered to my delight that all was not lost. A small burning was lodged in my soul -- a longing for more that would not be squelched. While I dare not make bold proclamations of my love, I do welcome the longing.
"It was the upward-reaching and fathomlessly hungering, heart-breaking love for the beauty of the world at its most beautiful, and, beyond that, for that beauty east of the sun and west of the moon which is past the reach of all but our most desperate desiring and is finally the beauty of Beauty itself, of Being itself and what lies at the heart of Being" -- Frederick Buechner.
I know that at the heart of my being, Lord, is the desperate need for connection with you.
I am so glad God did not let you lose your delight when you first began this journey. When I became a believer in 1977, all I could think about was how wonderful it was to know God, to be known by Him and to be on this extraordinary adventure. However, I met many other Christians who did not resonate with my abounding enthusiasm and I confided to my dear friend and mentor, a wiser, older woman (she was younger than I am now), that I thought the road with Jesus could become very lonely since so few people seemed as interested in the trip as I was. Her response was exactly what I needed to hear and reflecting on her words has encouraged me so many times. This is what she said (paraphrased, of course) "You're right, Elizabeth, the road narrows and you will meet fewer people along the way, but those who do travel that road are among the loveliest people you will ever meet." And so she gave me hope and I continued traveling and sometimes He gave me companions and sometimes He didn't, but in the loneliest times, He gave me more of Himself. Thanks for sharing the journey . . . your companionship makes it sweeter.
ReplyDeleteWow. I guess as a very emotive person I find it difficult to imagine people walking with the Lord without any desire, passion, hope, excitement, etc. That it could just be a choice-based relationship. It is beyond me. Not that don't think love is a commitment and choice, because it cannot be based on feelings alone. I just have a hard time separating my feelings(and the feelings that God has for me!) from the commitment to follow Him.
ReplyDeleteI welcome the longing too, Barb. I am afraid for that longing to ever leave.