lost in the metaphor

When we first moved into this apartment, one of the consoling factors was the depth and vibrancy of the sunset. Tonight, heading toward home on the train, it did not disappoint. It was one of those achingly beautiful and transient moments like others I’ve lived through in recent years. For a barely detectable moment, you feel sick to the stomach with gratitude for all of the reasons that words can’t say. Maybe it’s the ever elusive clarity that graces for a second that one specific friendship; maybe it’s a beautifully feminine child-like nine year old who tells you about the first day of her puberty course and the really sad book they just finished during Read-Aloud class time; or the fact that you lived somewhat successfully through a day that seemed to hold so little promise when it began.

For all of those nuggets and a million more, I felt on the train tonight that oh yeah, earth is not eternity sensation. And in far less time that it will take to tell, I knew the truth of what is real, and I saw that I get lost in all of the metaphors. But a relationship with God is not ultimately like anything else.

There is no adequate metaphor for what it is to be human and be loved by the Only, Present Creator-King. This IS what is is. It is living in the two worlds at once and believing that the word of the Lord holds true, and we can trust everything He does; that He made our hearts, so He understands everything we choose [psalm 25].

It is turning your body full towards the dirty BART window to soak in shades of amber and orange layering hills against horizon while palm trees stand saluting in clusters and birds stand perching on man-made things.

Great is our God. | Ps 95

~ b

C O M M E N T S

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