a simple sunday.
What a day. What a day. A thousand books could be written on what happened today. Of course, not about my selfish, self centered actions. Pages would be written about the beautiful altruistic acts of people all around the world. Self sacrificing mothers laying down their time for their children. Pastors practicing true and undefiled religion, visiting orphans and widows. Fathers taking the Sunday off to spend precious time with their children. God would smile upon some and cry for others. I always think, God must be the definition of patience. I think heavenly patience is something that we will never know of till we get there. Unconditional love. How is that humanly possible? I guess it isn’t really. Every day, early in the morning, God himself packages little bundles of love for all his Children. Carriages and carriages of love are carried from heaven to earth everyday. Bundles and bundles stacked upon each other. One for each of us. Every morning when we wake up, a bundle hand wrapped, directly from God, sits at our doorstep.
The greatness of God is something to get around. I used to always find myself thinking when I was a kid, what would happen if there was no earth. If there was no earth, I would think to myself, then there would be nothing. That was a hard thought to get around. How can you just have nothing?
God is the same. I think sometimes we pretend to have God all figured out. Like he is a machine, that when we put a few coins of faith in, we see the waters part for us. I think that we have killed the mystery of God. Like it says somewhere in the bible, we only seen things in part. We preach about the things we know, and forget about the things we don’t know. God is big. So big that we don’t know how big he is. We spend so much time testing out God and seeing if he ‘works’ that we miss the whole mystery of God. Sometimes I wish that Sunday nights would consist of us merely lying underneath the stars and wondering what God has prepared for the next day. Wondering how he can love us so much. Wondering why he would want to kill himself to be near with us.
sometimes words are better left untainted by more. however, I must do so, yet by simply quoting and thus emphasising a great 'wondering';
"wondering why he would want to kill himself to be near with us"
Why? Its a mystery; eluding my understanding in totality, yet claiming sufficent cause. when I think about this notion of my 'understandings' I wish I was sadder, alas I am not. For what to settle this but the knowledge that I know that beyond my walls of scant belief resides something bigger and beyond comprehension?
Exactly.
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Anonymous |
10:20 PM