I was in deep conversation with God this morning; actually, I was arguing with Him as usual. Even though I know I am one of His children, and I may not have advanced from the typical teenage mentality; but I know that He loves me.
I was trying to convince Him that I am not only one person; there are too many sides to my personality and my life. I am one person to my wife; one to each of my children; one to my students; and, one to those I pray with. However, I do try to shed all of these different personas, when I sit back to have my daily conversations with God.
God knows that realistically, I am merely a hollow piece of rock, much as a cave in the higher hills of an arid wasteland. When all the different layers are peeled from my personality, I am merely one of His sons, an entity that relies completely on His grace. My life is nothing without His understanding and Love. I know this deep within me, even as I surf with old-age pain, even as I argue with Him, knowing that I can never win.
At times, I am a galaxy unto myself that awaits exploration. I struggle to the depths of my soul and the heights of my imagination to understand how and why I do the things that I do. My travels through my galaxy are usually at the pace of medieval travel. When I feel as if I am travelling as a meteor, I look at my trail to see that I have only progressed, or for that matter, regressed, only a few inches. I laugh, when soaring as a meteor, I think that Don Quixote on his flea-bitten horse travels farther and faster than I do.
Most of all, as with many, no, most people, I suffer with a brokenness that only God can heal. When I was born, I was loved by my mother, my father, and my older sister. Through life, we argued, we fought, we parted in anger; but, through it all, as I look back on that one-inch travel, I see a family full of love. A love that we mortals say transcends all other love; but we are wrong. As strong as that love seems, we cannot place our eternal life on that love; doing so leaves us open to be broken. As I reflect on my life with my family and the love that saturated our very beings, it was only a transitory love; one that does not transcend the grave. My mother, my father, and my sister are no longer of my world, except within my mind. I still love them, but it is not Love, God’s Love.
Their love no longer exists in this world. It is of a different, greater word, the world that belongs to God. This is why I suffer from brokenness, why I am a rock on a dusty road, worn down by the elements; I rely on the love of others to get through life. My wife is wonderful, supporting me in everything I do; support for each other helps us travel our slow inch-by-inch journeys. When I die, or when she dies, there will be brokenness, because this love cannot surpass the grave. Only God’s Love does.
I try each day to pray, to converse with God, to argue with God. I crave understanding how I fit God’s plan. How I go through each day depends on the Love that God gives me, the Love that takes me from my brokenness, the Love that embraces me through eternity.
The realization that only God knows me, knew me before my birth, and only God will know me after I die, is not only comforting, it is supportive as I endeavor to continue glorifying God. The other realization is also shockingly comforting and very difficult to appreciate. I knew God before my birth, and I will know God after I die.
I wonder that there is no reason why I cannot achieve oneness with God now. Jesus, the Son of God, knew God on this earth. I feel as a son of God, I should endeavor to do the same. I will not be able to perform miracles, but I can comfort people in their times of trouble. I cannot forgive their sins, but I can show them how to talk with God, so that they know that He forgives them.
So, perhaps I am wrong; perhaps I am a single person. That person is a son of our heavenly Father, who wants to explore, to learn, to share my oneness with God. As Jesus did, I seek my own personal wilderness to find my Father; to argue with Him; to plead with Him; and, finally to accept my reason for being. As Matthew said: “Let your light shine before men in such a way that they see your good works, and glorify your Father, who is in heaven.”
I pray daily that I do.