how, how can you live without your lies? oo, oo love, i've had enough of you tonight
i've been reading the romantics for my british literature class (which is amazing), and i've been constantly engaged in incredibly interesting but sometimes far too heavy discussions of faith and theology and heresy (and its presence in much of the church, especially in its non-intellectual leanings, which are so far from practicable, even apart from being horridly untrue...)and this is my resulting thoughts, to be developed in depth sometime in the future.
What life am I to live to truly be a woman of God?
I mean, here I am, a few months shy of twenty, a sophomore in college, working, studying, meeting people, busy, so often exhausted, so often so tired inside, too. Everyday is full of class, homework, going to work, talking to my friends, constantly looking forward to that time when I can finally go to sleep, dreading the time when my alarm signals the start of the next day. I wonder, is this living? At times, it feels no more than shadows, the forms with no essence.
Sometimes, it seems I am alone. Yet I know I am loved, not merely by an incredible infinite God, but by some of His children as well. Yet it seems, as Wordsworth wrote, “we murder to dissect” when we try to understand everything in this faith we profess-we grow so concerned for truth that we lose track of the heart, the soul, the life of things. I mean, I cannot be the only one who struggles with understanding, who struggles to connect the intellect and the heart, who tries to understand this great god that loves and fills the heart.
Whatever happened to our sense of wonder?
Have we forgotten to love in our search for truth? Have we forgotten the person? A life too focused and fixed on the internal, on heart, soul, and mind, is dangerous, but so is that of a life and a mode of thought too empirical. Where is the resolution? I’m still uncertain. Perhaps there is none. Perhaps this is the sort of thing that must remain in suspension, fluctuation according to the situation, though never fully reaching either extreme.
What life am I to live to truly be a woman of God?
I mean, here I am, a few months shy of twenty, a sophomore in college, working, studying, meeting people, busy, so often exhausted, so often so tired inside, too. Everyday is full of class, homework, going to work, talking to my friends, constantly looking forward to that time when I can finally go to sleep, dreading the time when my alarm signals the start of the next day. I wonder, is this living? At times, it feels no more than shadows, the forms with no essence.
Sometimes, it seems I am alone. Yet I know I am loved, not merely by an incredible infinite God, but by some of His children as well. Yet it seems, as Wordsworth wrote, “we murder to dissect” when we try to understand everything in this faith we profess-we grow so concerned for truth that we lose track of the heart, the soul, the life of things. I mean, I cannot be the only one who struggles with understanding, who struggles to connect the intellect and the heart, who tries to understand this great god that loves and fills the heart.
Whatever happened to our sense of wonder?
Have we forgotten to love in our search for truth? Have we forgotten the person? A life too focused and fixed on the internal, on heart, soul, and mind, is dangerous, but so is that of a life and a mode of thought too empirical. Where is the resolution? I’m still uncertain. Perhaps there is none. Perhaps this is the sort of thing that must remain in suspension, fluctuation according to the situation, though never fully reaching either extreme.