Cosmic Love

The other week Andrew tried to get us to describe our current status with God as likened to a car.  I had no idea what my car-like relationship was with Jesus.  But after a recent car ride I did hear a song.  For months now it's been beyond words to put some sort of "relationship status" for me and God.  "It's complicated," but not in the "we're slowly breaking up" way that facebook is talking about.  It's really just complicated.  It's a lot like a lot of things, but not exactly.  It's almost like...but not quite.  

'A falling star fell from your heart and landed in my eyes

I screamed aloud, as it tore through them, and now it's left me blind...'

Does that make any sense?  This God so simplistically 'good' or 'mean' or any other thing that we find ourselves good enough to judge falls short to the action of a live being.  I mean.  It's not about God 'being' any peticular adjective, rather He is, therefore, He'd doing--.  Somewhere in my past, as well as my present I find myself blinded by the heart of this lover I have only ever know as "God."  God, no longer the distant being, but the something of a song, with stars in His heart.  

So yay? Good for me?

I find myself blind.  Blind, in the wholly unromantic way. 

The stars, the moon, they have all been blown out

You left me in the dark

No dawn, no day, I'm always in this twilight

In the shadow of your heart

And in the dark, I can hear your heartbeat

I tried to find the sound

But then it stopped, and I was in the darkness,

So darkness I became

The stars, the moon, they have all been blown out

You left me in the dark

No dawn, no day, I'm always in this twilight

In the shadow of your heart

That Christian victory everyone strives for, for the whole world to "grow strangely dim," I've long since past by, because dim is nothing to a blindman.  I can't see.  Its not a glorious passion, but a desperation I live out grasping in the dark.  Stumbling over things I cannot see longing to see God.  For the feeling of closeness I have been ruined for anything short of.  But I am still blind.  I pray. I seek. And I am thrust into mourning.  Searching for a God that has ravaged my heart and then disappeared into darkness.

 I took the stars from my eyes, and then I made a map

And knew that somehow I could find my way back

Then I heard your heart beating, you were in the darkness too

So I stayed in the darkness with you

The stars, the moon, they have all been blown out

You left me in the dark

No dawn, no day, I'm always in this twilight

In the shadow of your heart

The stars, the moon, they have all been blown out

You left me in the dark

No dawn, no day, I'm always in this twilight

In the shadow of your heart

I've had a few stranger 'spiritual experiences' lately an odd occurrence where I was thinking about fasting.  I say 'thinking' because the morning thereof I knew, that day, something would happen if I could do it.  If I could sit in the stillness, if I could pray the away the darkness, I could get Him back. I could call, and plead, kick and scream, then, I knew, He would return.  I was torn there and then.  I stood with one foot on either side of the divide in my theological casume. To trust the God leading me in the dark, or to call down the God of far off heaven.  To believe He loved me, or to demand a business transaction from a business-god.  One last time I asked, speak. 

Remain.

One word.  One wrecking, little word.

I sat there a moment. Then I went down stairs.  And ate breakfast.

I am still in the dark.