Omar Suleiman (via audreylostinparis)
I acknowledge, Lord, and I give thanks that you have created in me this your image, so that I can remember you, think about you and love you. But it is so worn away by sins, so smudged over by the smoke of sins, that it cannot do what it was created to do unless you renew and reform it. I do not even try, Lord, to rise up to your heights, because my intellect does not measure up to that task; but I do want to understand in some small measure your truth, which my heart believes in and loved. Nor do I seek to understand so that I can believe, but rather I believe so that I can understand. For I believe this too, that “unless I believe I shall not understand” (Isa. 7:9).
Let me see your light, even if I see it from afar or from the depths. Teach me to seek you, and reveal yourself to this seeker. For I cannot seek you unless you teach me how, nor can I find you unless you show yourself to me. Let me seek you in desiring you, and desire you in seeking you. Let me find you in loving you and love you in finding you.
My uncle’s fortune cookie
More than anything right now I want to be dispossessed by the things that I am having to learn, released from their aims and thrown into the true difficulty of being. Yet they snag me, because I pay deep attention to them, and then I have to wrestle my way out, over and over, relying on a few basic images I have in my mind that aid a return. One, meeting Kierkegaard and collapsing into his arms, and suddenly receiving understanding on the human end, and two, meeting Jesus and collapsing into his arms and receiving compassion on the divine end. In these two images, which I somehow experience when I think about them fully, all things have their place, all things come forth out of their hiding places, and I am utterly unafraid.
There is both the suffering because one has not recognized something and the suffering because one has recognized something and must endure. There is no joy to be found in the first.