I do not want to be distant. After having tasted the good company of a friend, I have a tendency to be sticky, to be attached, to the point of being needy of more and more of that sweet companionship. This seems to be the paradox of my love relationship with God. Why has he allowed me to taste his goodness, gentleness, care, concern, faithfulness, and love and now seemingly leaves me wandering and wanting for more.
St. Bernard of Clairvaux expressed my heart’s content right now:
<Jesus, Thou Joy of Loving Hearts>
Jesus, thou joy of loving hearts, Thou fount of life, thou Light of men, From the poor bliss that earth imparts, We turn unfilled to thee again.
Thy truth unchanged hath ever stood; Thou savest those who on thee call; To them that seek thee, thou art good, To them that find thee, all in all.
We taste thee, O thou living Bread, And long to feast upon thee still; We drink of thee the Fountain-head, And thirst our souls from thee to fill.
Our restless spirits yearn for thee, Where’er our changeful lot is cast; Glad, when thy gracious smile we see, Blest, when our faith can hold thee fast.
O Jesus, ever with us stay; Make all our moments calm and bright, Chase the dark night of sin away; Shed o’er the world thy holy light.
I am unfilled once again. My restless spirit troubles me. Why have you gone away? But in my mind I know you will not and have not. So maybe there is something in me once again that keeps me from being energized by your presence. It has always been me and not you. I want to follow hard after you, but why is it that you play hide and seek with me? Should I come to the bush and see it burning? God, come thou fount of blessing! Teach me some melodius sonnet, sung by flaming tongues above. 18th century pastor Robert Robinson might have felt what I am feeling for him to pen such words. God, once more, here’s my heart, take and seal it, seal it for your courts above. Come and captivate my soul once again!
Maybe I am out of season now. But you are a God of all seasons. My mom would always order four-seasons fruit shake everytime we go out for dinner at a fancy restaurant. God, can I order a tall glass of four-seasons you? Hear my cry as a seeker that we may both rejoice when I shout with gladness as a finder. I crave for a further revelation of you to my soul.
God, you said you reveal yourself to the simple, to those who are like children in their faith. I’m crying now as though a baby wanting for her mother’s milk but cannot put into words such request. I need you, desperately to feed me with you and not with any spiritual blessing that come along anyway. I don’t need a “God-and” I need God because I know that all the treasures are not just in you, but is you.
Why is it that when I sought and find you, you satisfy then make me thirsty and hunger still. When will this longing be completely satisfied. This insatiable desire for you is so frustrating because I have tried but no amount of audio sermon, Bible reading, prayer, counselling, fasting, whatever religious practice can ever quench this ineffable feeling of emptiness of not having you yourself to dwell consciously in me. Saturate me with you, allow me to soak in you.