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| (Thanks you Google for your image) |
A lot has happened since my last post. I keep thinking about blogging about these things, or writing them down in a journal, and the second my mind goes there, I realize I have no words. I have thoughts all jumbled up in my head but no words. I have pictures, but still silence.
Sometimes words fail us. There just isn't enough in a word to describe an emotion, a picture, a feeling, a realization, an affirmation.
There are 32 ways to say "I love you" in an Eskimo dialect. And yet, 32 ways is still not enough to explain some things.
"Joy". Does the word "joy" truly explain the way a mother feels when the human life she carried around in her body for 9 months is now in her arms, crying, looking in her eyes, 10 fingers and 10 toes all perfectly perfect. It just seems that she would run out of words trying to explain what that miracle really means to her. That a life depends on her for survival. That she will feed, and clothe and love this human being that she has been a part of creating. Words would limit such a revelation.
"Sad". Is that the word we use when we realize that we will never see a loved one on this earth again. That their laugh, their smile, their deep conversations that fade into the night sky will never be had again. You'll never climb a mountain again. Or have a picnic lunch outside a cathedral in India. "Sad" hardly does justice to the feeling of your heart being violently ripped out of your chest and the breath literally taken from your lungs.
So in the same way, I feel limited by the words I have to explain the presence of God. When you are standing on Holy Ground, knowing He is there. When it feels like you are literally in Heaven. That it isn't some place high above the clouds, but it is the place of which you are standing. It's a world that is right up against you, all you have to do is reach your hand out.
When saying 'thank you' over and over and over again seems too small of an action. When each tear represents a different wound healed, a different chain broken, a different praise spoken. When falling to your knees and raising your hands in total abandonment are just small gestures of trying to explain to the Holy King that He is worthy of your whole existence.
The feeling that He doesn't find you too small to show up and tell you that His heart BURSTS for you. That He longs for you to be with Him. Even after every human error, after every selfish mistake, He still WANTS you.
That He has never had the DESIRE to walk away. That He has stayed. And that He hasn't left us alone, but has given us the same power that was able to break the hold of death. That He finds us precious enough to hold that kind of responsibility for Him, despite who we are, and what we've done, and where we've come from. That He has found us in need of redemption, and so has delivered.
I have hesitated to attempt to put any of this in writing.
Because sometimes,
Words fail us.
