Wednesday, July 9, 2008

The longing and the fear

"The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers...
We have given our hearts away..."
-William Wordsworth

I want to live a beautiful life. I want to stop and listen. To have time to read and pray and think and hope. I want to listen to God's call. I want to see with fresh eyes, to notice the wonder and promise of people -- living, breathing image-bearers. The imago dei. 7 billion times over, and yet the enormity of the number does not diminish the miraculous. 7 billion, and no one repeated. 7 billion, and every face a reflection of His.

One girl/woman, almost 24, amazed that a few of her friends are wives and mothers because she herself feels so small and scared. One world. Groaning everyday more, and we are all of us caught up in the illusion that it will last, for why else would we give so much to our jobs and possessions and schedules and so little time to our souls?

The thought has been heavy in me lately that we are missing it. I am missing it, on many days and even for months in succession. "This isn't life," the whisper comes, while I fret about my to-do list and wonder if Peter will let me borrow his car and covet the latest clothes in the JCrew catalog, as if those sweaters and those pants will make happy, successful, and oh yeah, very skinny. "There is more," the voice says. God's?

The frenzy is all around me. I think about that man in Jesus' story who had a good crop. So much harvest that he couldn't keep it all in his barns. He tore them down and built bigger ones. He didn't know that death would come for him that very night. He got barns for one afternoon.

God, give me courage.


  1. Thanks for the reminder... to spend more time on my soul... to question the cacophony of desires clamoring for my heart and mind... to heed the still voice that insists on the MORE.

  2. I miss you! Your thoughts always make me want to DO something and change. And I realize I'm not alone in the tension between my humantiy (falling short of the mark) and my new identity that has been bestowed upon me without doing anything.