When I was a tyke (and I still am, in that respect) I asked mom about God all the time. Tough questions, too sometimes! But she knew her stuff. And more important than what she knew, she knew which things it was important to stress that we don't know. That there is knowledge, that we can know and study and learn, that to seek God is one way to love God, but there is also a mystery. Mom knew more than most, that some things are God's province. We don't get to dictate and codify all aspects in this life.
Everything she told me I swallowed like a real sucker! And all my life, the more I learn in life and the more I've learned of God, the deeper I get, and the more I understand what I already know deep down. I never had to suffer a particular wrenching epiphany - to drop my bad way of knowing God and come to a better one - because I wasn't raised to love judgment. I've worked pretty hard on myself, from kidhood continuing up through now, but it wasn't out of self-loathing because I fall short. Though to be sure I do! if I wanted to measure myself in the very critical way others seem to prize, surely I do fall short! but why should I care for their misguided metrics now, when I never did?
My work on myself, on how I act and what I know and what I believe in, was always based on love of truth. On how cool the real is. On how cool reality is, what a gift it is, and on wanting to know that gift, better and more deeply. Wanting to know the giver - better, more deeply. Wanting to know so much that I never stop knowing and learning and discovering truth! God's ever unravelling gift to us.
God's life, God's love, as shown to us through the world - as God plays peekaboo with us in glimpses of truth we get through others, and in snatches of truth we get through our own mind's grasping. And in a deeper, silent way, the direct touch - in contemplation - of God's mind to ours. The tiniest touch - our singular point, to kiss an infinity. And be kissed back! oh
Oh, it's no point me trying to put these things into words. I'm not the right one to do it. I have no gift for this sort of rhapsody. I've become too much a bohemian, perhaps. Mama mia mama mia (mama mia let me go) Be-EL-zeBUB has a devil put a SIDE, and he looks so good in black, in black. But I don't need to sing all that spirit electric! God knows how I feel about God.
Mom knows how I feel about mom.
Love you, mom!
Everything she told me I swallowed like a real sucker! And all my life, the more I learn in life and the more I've learned of God, the deeper I get, and the more I understand what I already know deep down. I never had to suffer a particular wrenching epiphany - to drop my bad way of knowing God and come to a better one - because I wasn't raised to love judgment. I've worked pretty hard on myself, from kidhood continuing up through now, but it wasn't out of self-loathing because I fall short. Though to be sure I do! if I wanted to measure myself in the very critical way others seem to prize, surely I do fall short! but why should I care for their misguided metrics now, when I never did?
My work on myself, on how I act and what I know and what I believe in, was always based on love of truth. On how cool the real is. On how cool reality is, what a gift it is, and on wanting to know that gift, better and more deeply. Wanting to know the giver - better, more deeply. Wanting to know so much that I never stop knowing and learning and discovering truth! God's ever unravelling gift to us.
God's life, God's love, as shown to us through the world - as God plays peekaboo with us in glimpses of truth we get through others, and in snatches of truth we get through our own mind's grasping. And in a deeper, silent way, the direct touch - in contemplation - of God's mind to ours. The tiniest touch - our singular point, to kiss an infinity. And be kissed back! oh
Oh, it's no point me trying to put these things into words. I'm not the right one to do it. I have no gift for this sort of rhapsody. I've become too much a bohemian, perhaps. Mama mia mama mia (mama mia let me go) Be-EL-zeBUB has a devil put a SIDE, and he looks so good in black, in black. But I don't need to sing all that spirit electric! God knows how I feel about God.
Mom knows how I feel about mom.
Love you, mom!
Comments
No indeed. Not even the rest of the kids, at least in this particular area!
I was blessed with the need to pester the truth for answers. And the truth has rarely let me down.
Whereas, mom has never let me down.
Still, as far as "taught and know" - what you're taught depends greatly on what sort of answers you'll accept - and how hard you'll seek for better ones.
Not everyone was as pesky as me either.
"why?"
"Why?"
"WHY?"