#BIGRead14: Embracing the Mystery (Read by @UnshaunSheep)

http://seedresources.com/view/images/moon-mystery

http://seedresources.com/view/images/moon-mystery

Although I long to understand . . .
Although I long to know . . .
Although I fancy wisdom . . .
Although I crave the light . . .
I know how little I know.
I know how often I am confused,
confounded,
muddled.

Help me to be clear about this at least:
that I know little;
that I miss more than I see;
that I am surprised more often,
far more often, than
I ever admit.

I love days of blue skies and clear horizons.
I love the clear map, the vivid description.
I love the clear instruction,
the quick result,
the method that works, the prediction that comes true.

I love that resonance when a story or a poem
unfolds with insights already
familiar.
I love the thrill of recognition:
I know that,
I know this,
I know you,
I know them.
I love to know why,
how,
where
and when.

Alas, it is so rarely like this,
’tis never thus.

The mountain range of knowledge:
hidden in mist from me.
I see a foothill, and know that every summit is false.
I walk over rock. I can’t even begin to
understand its story.
I see the planets – how many can I name?
Can I say how the winds reshape the clouds?

The night­-time journey. I
imagine a clear path, an open road,
floodlights, headlights, clear signs.
I find myself in a Devon land:
high hedges, sharp bends, cloudy sky,
no moon, no stars.
The headlights have broken, sidelights
only glow in the dark.

Yet I do see a little.
But no, not enough.
Not nearly enough.
the light: a single, flickering, vulnerable
flame, the sun diffused through mist, a dim torch
making its own horizon.

I need to see more, know more,
understand better.

Unless, unless, unless . . .
I accept it.
Accept the truth of my lack of vision,
my lack of wisdom and understanding, and
begin to learn how to walk: to develop
the confidence, courage and patience
simply to put one foot in front of the other.

And so I pray:
not for wisdom,
not to see more,
not to understand better,
not to find life predictable,
not to be the one who knows . . .
but for the grace
to see enough through my own beclouded eye
to accept the morning mist in my mind
and to walk into
mystery.

Action: Take the opportunity to respond through image, poetry, prayer, a Bible verse, text, tweets, or sharing something you’ve found or created online in the comments section below.

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