Yesterday, I felt funny about my earlier posting about going to my music lesson. I sometimes get into an ecstatic type of trance about something which simply feels transcendent or like heaven. And, my language goes up, and ridicule is possible, and I myself become a sceptical onlooker to my own communicated experience. When Wordsworth reread his fanciful "Tintern Abbey," he perhaps wanted to chuck it into the fire because of its elevated emotion.
However, as I returned to a book by Barbara Brown Taylor called An Altar in the World, I simply share her belief that we find God, not simply inside a church, a limited square, but everywhere. Many have that belief; stories of it are written all in the Bible. But, often we forget the holiness in moments, in special places, in ordinary paths, wherever we travel. God simple is -- he Inundates -- he Overwhelms -- he Overflows, and we move within as if swimming in an incredible deep.
I just want to sense and see and respond, removing blinders from my eyes which designate, partition, divide. If I believe that God can be only seen and experienced with certain people, in a certain place, or with certain structures in place, than I am lost; my oxygen line cut. I would be swimming, focused on the last exhaled breath which intakes water. I want to see through my goggles wherever I am and see his Beauty all around, the wondrous variety of fish, the sights which pass my way (even the dangerous ones to avoid). Lord of All, help us not to limit our vision of your grand (and invasive) Inundation.