I am a man in search of God
It’s an easy search. I readily see him in the natural world: in the sinuous thrust of a tree against the sky, in the crenelated permanence of an igneous mountain face, in the luminance of a sunrise, in the river’s gentle caress of a forest bed. I enjoy Him in the abstract world: in the satisfaction of mathematical resolution, in the compelling beauty of scriptural revelation, in the sharp crack of a witticism, in each resonant glance with a loved one; perhaps most of all in the heartfelt cry of the convert. That the slow, fiery ballet of the astronomical bodies is conducted by the same baton which orchestrates the replication of cells, comforts me. That the mighty forearms of the raging seas pounding on the cliffs connect to the tiny hands stringing the spider’s deadly silken signatures in the morning dew, humbles me. That the same heart provoking the eagle’s parental love hovering over the nest also inflames the lioness’ jaws tearing the flesh of the young gazelle, absorbs me. Mind-stretching scenes; and all the more wonderful for being so.
It’s a hard search too. The lack of direct dialogue does not sit easily on the human psyche. He seems absent in the bereavement of a valued one; absent in the emptiness of seemingly unanswered supplication, distant in myriad times of weakness, missing in the attribution of burdens seemingly too heavy to bear.
So we still struggle, my God and I. Ultimately, He’ll win. And if things go well enough, when He does, I’ll be on His side.
(Photo Legend: Hampshire, England, May 2017)