When I went to the university, I talked to a rather smart girl that later went on to become a doctor. Once she told me, pretty straight forward, in those words, that she had a rather childish belief in God, where she more or less looked at God as an old man sitting on a cloud. It was obvious that she had given her faith quite a lot of thought and ended up in this place.
For me, I think I want both. I want the ecstatic, mystical experiences. I want the philosophy and the difficult questions (even if I don’t want the pride that pops into my head from time to time as I engage in such thinking). But in the end, I want to put my life in God’s hands in the simplest manner possible. I want to just trust and feel like a little child, embraced and held by my heavenly father. Held by this being, whose love and wisdom I cannot even begin to fathom.
I want a balance between the crazy and the simple. Between the extraordinary and the mundane. And in the end, I never want to stray too far. I’m an adult now and I want to interact with other people as an adult. But in my relationship with God, I still want to be a child. Does this make any sense? I don’t know how to explain it in any other way. There is an innocence here that somehow permeates life and existence itself, behind all of the darkness and complexity. An innocence that was never lost. Something that can be felt in such simple experiences as petting a cat. Or listening to the right song at the right time. Such as the song that got me thinking of this series. That’s fun to think about, ending this on sort of a philosophical note: A simple song and my emotional reaction to it was what started this whole stream of thoughts. It’s something to think about when we decide what to fill our lives with.
Photo by William Bout on Unsplash
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