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I am a pencil in the hand of a writing God who is sending a love letter to the world. -Mother Teresa

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

1 Timothy 6:16

The author of this journal entry made all the money I spent on college worth it just to gain her friendship! Though we only attended at the same time for a year and a half, our friendship has grown and lasted partly thanks to writing letters back & forth during the times we weren't together. She's much better at writing with elegance than I am, not just in letters & poetry but also in short stories. I'm certain that she will be a frequent guest on the blog, so I'll save more to say about her for later. :) She's starting off her time here with a letter to God in the form of a poem:

The title "I Timothy 6:16" is the verse talking about God which says "...who alone is immortal and who lives in unapproachable light, whom no one has seen or can see." I wrote the poem during a time when I was dreaming about what it would actually be like to be in "unapproachable light" with God for even a microsecond. For the longest time the only sensation I could come up with being in the presence of such holiness was an explosion. But then I began to imagine the stillness of God. I was so awestruck at the idea of God being so turbulent and yet so still that I could not help but write about it. The "poem" as it is in my journal is very rough (as you can tell), so I decided to revise it for the blog. 

This is the original (page 1)

The original (page 2)

Here's the revision made especially for this blog:

I Timothy 6:16
You. Apart. Separated. Yes, 
You dwell with and among us in the ever moving orbit of time. But 
You are also outside. Yes, 
You dwell in heaven among the angels and 
Your light is perhaps seen more clearly there, for it is in the revelation of
Your light that some can praise 
You stronger, better, fuller. But 
You are still outside, apart. There is that little bit of some of 
You which we cannot know, because to know it would be as if we were like 
You. So
 You ever dwell with us nearby, but unapproachably far away. So I must know
You in the glimpses that I catch, never enough, but it should be that way. 
You would not be 
You if I could ever know everything there is to know, and I love 
You the better for it. What would I do? Honestly? To be caught up in 
You, apart, outside, to exist for even a moment in the 
Light and 
Stillness that makes up
You? Unfathomable the completeness of
I AM. Impossible for the imperfect yet perfect creation to comprehend the depths of the 
Creator. Woe is me, the prophet cried, and he had not even touched the surface of 
I AM. Forgive us for believing that we have any control.

1 comment:

  1. Wonderful post. Just wonderful. I e-mailed you the other day. Look for it.