God intensely pursues us. His strong Feet and Voice patiently seek after us. Patiently, persistently, relentlessly, unceasingly They pursue us. His Hand caressingly reaches out for us, to hold us and to touch us and to feel us and to know us. His gentle yet peering Gaze strips us of our defenses. In our fear of intimacy, we flee. We hide – as if we can hide from His gentle all knowingness. This knowingness penetrates our gaping hearts and desires to fill the hole within us. We crouch as if trying to cover ourselves. He gently parts the veil of our fears and sees. He longs, yearns, pleads for our restless spirits to quieten for just a moment, a moment with Him.
these thoughts were inspired by "Hound of Heaven", Francis Thompson
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3 comments:
I LOVE this poem!
It is the story of the addict, pusuing relief from anything but God. The old, unabridged version even has a point where they guy he is chasing turns toward lusting after children rather than to God for relief. And wouldn't you know, it is near the end, right before he surrenders.
I sought no more that after which I strayed
In face of man or maid;
But He still within the little children's eyes
Seems something, something that replies,
They at least are for me, surely for me!
I turned me to them very wistfully;
But, just as their young eyes grew sudden fair
With dawning answers there,
Their angel plucked them from me by the hair.
"Come then, ye other children, Nature's-share
With me" (said I); "Your delicate fellowship;
Let me greet you lip to lip,
Let me twine with you caresses,
Wantoning
With our Lady-Mother's vagrant tresses, Banqueting
With her in her wind-walled palace,
Underneath her azured dais,
Quaffing, as your taintless way is,
From a chalice
Lucent-weeping out of the dayspring."
So it was done:
I in their delicate fellowship was one—
Drew the bolt of Nature's secrecies.
I knew all the swift importings
On the wilful face of skies;
I knew how the clouds arise,
Spumed of the wild sea-snortings;
All that is born or dies
Rose and drooped with; make them shapers
Of mine own moods, or wailful or divine—
With them joyed and was bereaven.
I was heavy with the even,
When she lit her glimmering tapers
Round the day's dead sanctities.
I laughed in the morning's eyes
I triumphed and I saddened with all weather,
Heaven and I wept together,
And its sweet tears were salt with mortal mine;
Against the red throb of its sunset-heart
I laid my own to beat,
And share commingling heat;
But not by that, by that, was eased my human smart.
In vain my tears were wet on Heaven's grey cheek.
For ah;
we know not what each other says.
These things and I;
in sound I speak—
Their sound it but their stir, they speak by silences.
Nature, poor stepdame, cannot slake my drouth;
Let her, if she would owe me,
Drop yon blue bosom-veil of sky, and show me
The breasts o' her tenderness:
Never did any milk of hers once bless
My thirsting mouth.
Nigh and nigh draws the chase,
With unperturbed pace,
Deliberate speed, majestic instancy,
And past those noised Feet
A Voice comes yet more fleet—
"Lo! naught contents thee, who contents not Me."
Thank God He chases after us so persistently. I'd be a lost cause if He ever gave up on me!
Thanks for the post, Nancy.
I got your call - will try to call soon!
Beth
Thank you. Isn't it wonderful to know a God who loves us so much, even in our undeservedness.
Praise God for his mercies that are renewed each morning.
J.M.
Yes, nicely written and insightful.
Like your blog.
I play hide and seek with God because I fear this comfort of being newly intimate with my higher power. I can still take the right action and seek him out, much as a flower might seek the Sun, after a night's rain.
Hoping you'll have a good 24.
Eric S.
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