Unending

 This is the problem I have, I must confess. It is elusive and sits at the edge, waiting, wiggling its finger to come closer. I look, I ponder, I listen, and regardless of the place it is still there, but I keep trying.

  I will ignore it, and wander away to find other things to occupy the time. But the moment I turn, it's waiting, waiting for words, for action. Unending, ever-present, yet thin as a veil, a presence that just hangs out. And my feeble attempt to describe, and give definition just dribbles down the chin like a glutton at a banquet table.

  I often use instrumental music while I write so that the words of songs do not distract me. But it is the presence that distracts me more. And some of these take me deeply down the road as I feel the presence of the Lord just sitting there. So I try, I try to describe what I can not touch, but touches me. It’s an unending quest, always elusive and if my frustration arrives, I can only step back for the presence suffers no human tension. 

  It may be loud and crashing like a wave, but I must be still. It may be like honey, thick and weighty, but I must stand. It can a as light a breeze or as strong as a storm, but I can not make a sail to contain it.

  I have tried to describe some of it in articles, in teaching books, and even slipped parts of it into a couple of science fiction books when I could. But it all feels awkward. But still, I try…it’s an unending quest.

  One of the songs that get me at the very core is from Tony Anderson, Nightingale. I don’t know how to describe… It's like a hand grips you, strong and mighty…yet tenderly to say “I have you. But I need you to look, to feel this…”

Click the image to listen

  Yet at the same time it “feels” like a declaration of something massive and royal that is rolling in like a storm. And I wonder, is this what the Israelites felt at the Red Sea when the hand of God moved? Or is He perhaps, parting the waters within me? I have no answers, only questions.

  It becomes like an addiction, to try and write and make sense while getting distracted, and pulled away by the Holy Spirit. To other lands, places, and thoughts. Some people have that special prayer place, I have a keyboard, earbuds, and Spotify.

  Have you found your special place?