I used to imagine the tapestry of my life as a crude patchwork of temporary sources of happiness, each one overlapping another, if only to limit the gaps made by windows of sadness and meaninglessness. I thought there never was a steady source. God was but another temporary pacifier– I never really knew what he was for.
Intellectualizing him some more, I agreed to his being an opiate, as he was best known among glory-seekers. Faith-based community service was another social outlet for the tired soul, much like Zumba, and theater and art classes. But now, anyone who tells me ‘at least you have an outlet’ is terribly, terribly mistaken. Belief — love of God and neighbor — is a way of life.
By grace, I learned that I shouldn’t intellectualize God, I only have to love him back.
Since then, he has transformed my ratty patchwork vision into something as unified and comforting as having only one thing to live and work and die for.
I have never felt so lacking in the world and yet so complete in love. Thank you, Father.