Why do I struggle with you the way I do? Why do you hide yourself? I feel I catch glimpses of you– subliminal images flashed on the movie screen of my life.
It seems you have designed the world to be one enormous treasure hunt. After six decades of life, I am like a child so distracted by the party balloons, that I forgot the objective of the game.
But this is not a game. There is no “here” and “hereafter.” This is it. The full layout, of which I’m digesting a very small part. The distinctions are all phony: body/spirit; life/death; body/soul; before/now/later; male/female; rich/poor; young/old; ugly/beautiful; creative/dull, yes, I could go on forever–except I can’t go on forever, without you. My movie is a passing entertainment with differences and distinctions. Your movie is a blank screen that holds and tells everything, and nothing.
Why do I love you as I do? What kind of relationship is this? I yearn to know you, and you hide yourself? I sit in meditation, and my legs go to sleep. I read a library of spiritual books, and carry the notes like narcotics to ease the pain of not being able to touch you. What kind of God sends a Jesus on a 3 year mission over 2000 years ago with no technology to record the events? Why, my blessed God, do you even wrap the clues in folds of mystery?
But I love you. I love you as I love the dawn. I love you as the morning air I take into my lungs with the smell of freshly mown grass. I love you as the glee I feel when a child runs and squeals with the joy of life. I love you as the new day reveals the deepest hues of green and blue. I love you as I see the beauty of a young woman perfectly alluring. I love you as I see the blue sparkle of intelligence in the eyes of a very old woman. I love you as I read the poetry of a master, or hear the music of a genius, or stand in amazement at the way of the great painter. I love these glimpses of you that they reveal.
Oh, that I may die. That I may not squander life, but that I may die like a lover who never departed from you. Oh, that I may die like one cringing at death as one would cringe to shed painful chains so that he might run through Elysian Fields. You are my God! There is none like you! And this love, so deeply implanted in my heart, will flow in fullness like a fountain of Glory in your Presence.