“You desire truth in the inmost parts…”
That came to me as I prayed a couple of days ago in my narrow bit of airplane seat (on the way to Orlando for a bookfair.) It’s like a nod from God, an affirmation that all I am thinking of late is right. It’s an indescribable thing to progress spiritually; to think you are right on with spiritual diligence and all and then, by some new grace of study or thought or discipline, to find a small new universe blossoming up in your soul in which every corner of your spirit becomes more alive than you knew you could be.
It’s how I feel of late; I have loved God forever it seems, sometimes I can’t remember when I haven’t been trying to be good, to be Christian. But I have also struggled; with knowing I am loved, with a pervasive sense of guilt, with a sort of blindness that made Scripture sometimes beautiful and sometimes frightening. But I’ll just say with a simple honesty, I’m a little different now. I’m walking into this new land that has opened up within me as I have committed myself to study Scripture, to pray with a diligence heretofore untried. I am being remade by it so that I am vastly more alive to God’s life as the central point to every thought, every life, every being every conceived. I guess I finally get it. All those passionate proclamations in Scripture of love for God, all the willingness to suffer, all those effusive ecstasies that great Christians seem so prone to when they get going about the gospel about God – I get it. I feel it myself.
So here I sit in the militant grey humidity of a Florida morn, sopping with sweat, about to face a crazy, crazy day. I glance up, at pearled sky ridged with rain, down at damp green, I clasp hot little hands and close my eyes and feel happiness; a freedom as wild as fresh rain, a close comfort as sweet as home and it is God, with me, in me, and I, finally, with Him.