Having grown up within a robust evangelical Church I was taught to believe that…
In the person of Jesus,
God, could be fully known,
at all times and amidst all circumstances.
And, to this day I am fully convinced of this truth.
But, as I have got older, and as faith has been tested and stretched (indeed is tested and stretched) I am finding myself longing for space that allows for…
mystery.
Mystery…that God is both alongside my journey yet far beyond.
Mystery…that realizes that “not knowing” is part and parcel of everyday faith and experience. Life deepens somehow when we are opened up too and become vulnerable enough too receive “not knowing”.
Mystery…that recognizes and even seeks moments of awe, wonder and transcendence, laughter.
Mystery…that God is not on tap.
Mystery…that in God, my story, your story somehow matters.
I think, Mary Oliver’s poem “Mysteries, Yes”, magically captures the essence of “mystery”.
Enjoy and learn to practice…
“Mysteries. Yes”.
Mary Oliver.
Truly, we live with mysteries too marvelous
to be understood.
How grass can be nourishing in the
mouths of the lambs.
How rivers and stones are forever
in allegiance with gravity
while we ourselves dream of rising.
How two hands touch and the bonds will
never be broken.
How people come, from delight or the
scars of damage,
to the comfort of a poem.
Let me keep my distance, always, from those
who think they have the answers.
Let me keep company always with those who say
“Look!” and laugh in astonishment,
and bow their heads.
Selah.
Picture courtesy of @savbrown
Wee Pilgrim 