"I used to be a member of a church, too," she said, "and I never could quite understand about the Trinity. I accepted it as a mystery, but it didn't make sense to me." She seemed relieved that--while she still very much believes in Jesus and the Holy Spirit--no one asks her, now, to consider them equal to God the Father.
She's traded in one mystery for another; now, she doesn't know where she'll spend eternity. Her friend explained: they don't believe the decision's been made, yet. "But what if you die, today?" I asked.
"I like to think I'm in Jehovah's favor, today," the friend answered.
And I won't speculate about whom has or hasn't found the truth. I admire the confidence, persistence, and scholarship of my friends. They have more answers than I. Just: I won't trade my sense of security in Christ for all the answers in the world.
Because, in the end, what matters more than: "Even though you're imperfect, I love you beyond condition?"
I'm learning to live with lesser mysteries, to--as Rainer Marie Rilke suggests--"love the questions." I'm prepared to explain my sense of hope (I Peter 3:15) but realize, at the same time: I'm seeing through a glass, darkly (I Corinthians 13:12). I know that I know nothing (including whether or not Socrates actually said the same), or at least that I know far, far less than what I don't.
Any hope I have, any peace, any anything: it stems from and rests in Christ Jesus. I'm trusting God to reveal His truths to me as I'm prepared to handle them (i.e., I'm trusting Him to inform me a little at a time so my head won't pop clean off).
And, you know, thanks to marriage counseling, I've remembered: mystery can be a beautiful thing. As a very young woman, I thought loving someone meant sharing everything; now I know: if a person expects to keep a relationship (s)he best learn to hold that tongue, pick battles carefully, and work through as much as possible in his or her own head and heart.
Because, in the end, what matters more than: "Even though you're imperfect, I love you beyond condition?"
Because, in the end, what matters more than: "Even though you're imperfect, I love you beyond condition?"
I'm learning to live with lesser mysteries, to--as Rainer Marie Rilke suggests--"love the questions." I'm prepared to explain my sense of hope (I Peter 3:15) but realize, at the same time: I'm seeing through a glass, darkly (I Corinthians 13:12). I know that I know nothing (including whether or not Socrates actually said the same), or at least that I know far, far less than what I don't.
Any hope I have, any peace, any anything: it stems from and rests in Christ Jesus. I'm trusting God to reveal His truths to me as I'm prepared to handle them (i.e., I'm trusting Him to inform me a little at a time so my head won't pop clean off).
And, you know, thanks to marriage counseling, I've remembered: mystery can be a beautiful thing. As a very young woman, I thought loving someone meant sharing everything; now I know: if a person expects to keep a relationship (s)he best learn to hold that tongue, pick battles carefully, and work through as much as possible in his or her own head and heart.
Because, in the end, what matters more than: "Even though you're imperfect, I love you beyond condition?"
Unconditional love. How can we not rest easy in that knowledge?
ReplyDeleteThat trusting that He will reveal Himself to us is a beautiful thing, a mystery, one that we want to unveil.
ReplyDeleteAnd thank the Lord for His unconditional love. Sometimes it may not look like we thought it would be we trust He knows best because He knows us best.
Love you Brandee.
How compassionate of God to only reveal of Himself what He knows I can handle.
ReplyDeleteI've found myself more recently being able to rest in the sovereignty of God. It doesn't answer all my questions (it creates more) - but it has given me peace amidst the chaos of life.
oh yes..and isn't that such a beautiful blessing. To know and be known by Him, in Him and for Him! {{hugs}}
ReplyDeleteBrandee, I just stopped by from Emily's blog and really liked this post. I used to pray and ask God to reveal all of who He is to me: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Sometimes my mind wants to grapple with it, but most of the time I find peace resting in who He says He is. I just read John 3:8 this week: "The wind blows wherever it wants. Just as you can hear the wind but can’t tell where it comes from or where it is going, so you can’t explain how people are born of the Spirit.” and it really spoke to me. I'm not supposed to be able to explain.
ReplyDelete