"The light, too, shattered like a vast plate and rejoined itself and splintered again, shards and chips and glowing glass and backlit wisps of it turning in hushed and peaceful exchange and saturating everything Howard saw, so that all things themselves finally seemed to dissolve away and their shapes be held by nothing more than quills of colored light."
Tinkers / Paul Harding
Monday, February 21, 2011
Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament was the spiritual apex of two of the most important weekends of my life. There is no sensation more raw to me than the feeling of being immersed in the presence of the creator of the universe, and I dare you to try it if you haven't. You don't have to search the deepest corners of your mind for answers or pray and pray and pray, you just have to let yourself go in the presence of God. I like to write during adoration, and wrote this after someone handed me a bible and I went searching for a verse I'd heard not long ago, one which struck me with both its mystery and simplicity. This is my Truth.
"He reveals deep and hidden things and knows what is in the darkness, for the light dwells with him."
Christ left his father in Heaven, where joy and love are boundless and eternal, to walk the earth as a man. He suffered and died on a wooden cross with nails through his flesh and a crown of thorns clawing at his skull. But he died so that I may live forever with him in paradise, the never-ending eye of the storm. I get so caught up in all this earthly bullshit, this regret and anxiety I carry with me like a millstone around my neck, that I forget that Christ was so afraid of his crucifixion he began to sweat blood.
I recede into darkness at times because imperfection is washed up in all that I am. But it's never long before I return to the light of Christ. Enfolded in his grace I feel sublime joy, an unquantifiable and mysterious burst of inner fire that leaves me smiling and jumping for joy. This inner fire exists, I imagine, as a flame eternally lit in the center of my heart. Racked with angst and sin, my blood turns to smog and the Evil One draws my eyes downward.
I've felt the ethereal lift of grace, battled darkness and overcome some truly wily demons. Though I turn my back on the Lord, he never leaves my side. His mercy drains my soul of dark and vile things and turns my blood to the gasoline that flows to the flame at the center of my heart, igniting my life.
Someday, when my earthly body has expired, I will go home to Christ and experience this joy not in bursts, but as the very nature of my being.
God is love,