it is not my conscious choice to cling to wonder - it is merely my reaction to that which inspires me. much like anything sacred the human race has encountered - love joy wisdom - the act of inspiration, upon receiving its name, has gradually lost its vibrancy, its truth and its character. to inspire: literally, to breathe into. to be filled. it is my belief and heartfelt argument that i have never been more alive than amidst the natural reaction of wonderment and awe. all children possess it and yet, over time and erosion, many find their eyes, hearts and minds calloused to the possibility of uncertainty, surprise and mystery. i can think of nothing further from "reality" than the blatant impossibility of question. so ask the certain. challenge the unknown. and find yourself in the most childlike of circumstances - lost in wonder.
"to live everyday as if it had been stolen from death, that is how i would like to live. to feel the joy of life, as eve felt the joy of life. to separate oneself from the burden, the angst, the anguish that we all encounter every day. to say 'i am alive, i am wonderful. i am. i am.' that is something to aspire to." - the art of racing in the rain
i am often skeptical of happiness. i often cannot accept its existence within shallow circumstances - amidst the ignorantly frivolous perspective in which angels are adorable babies, sitcoms mirror daily life and popular culture is worthy of a spoken word. there is, however, a sacred place in my soul for the person who encounters the heartbreaking reality and, at the end of the day, still has the courage to laugh. this week my dad was one of the 603,000 who lost their jobs in the past month. despite his calamity, his voice was unwavering in its hope. he is sobered by the moment, but far from distraught. i will forever be proud of my father. our story as a family has always been one of providence at the eleventh hour. it seems only right for god to continue to write our paths with a familiar stroke.
"I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I have ended up where I needed to be." - Douglas Adams
as physics has taught us, the leap is almost always followed by the fall, which to my utter amazement and jubilee, is quite wonderfully vibrant in seattle. this week marks six months since our wide-eyed arrival. blessings continue to pour - along with the weather of this coastal town - drenched by the grace of god.
lately i have been wrestling with life's greatest mystery - love. it has come to me through observation that, contrary to my previous belief, love is not, in itself, a verb. nor is it the frivolous feeling our society has mistaken it for. nor is it an obligation. it is my realization that love is not merely an action by itself as i cannot literally "love" someone in the same way that i can "push" or "carry" them. there is no single visible attribute or definable characteristic. love is neither feeling nor action, yet it can be felt and disguised. it is the invisible brought to light through the dust of our hearts, bones and bodies. it is truth brought to life through our very steps, breaths and actions. not merely through our bodies, but our being. it is the miracle, the choice to drench our actions with intent far greater than the immediate. when the eternal is realized in our action. when the soul is considered, if only for a moment. when the harmony between creation and creator is protected - bringing heaven to earth, as we have been called to do.
it is through observations, experience and wonder that any doubts to the depths of life, story and the god-spoken narrative are shattered. not a day goes by that i do not question my faith and the developing worldview through which i am learning to love and reason. but i am comforted by this as i believe more is revealed in the question than the resolution of its answer. fade to black and the credits roll - and there i sit in darkness waiting for the clear resolution i fully know is not hidden between the names. as if i were to look to the heavens only to see the universe shrug its shoulders. we can scream. we can sing. we can shout. we can leap. we can beat the soil with our fists. still and silent, we stand, wide-eyed and awestruck beneath gaseous giants and streetlights - only to find our chests can do nothing but tremble in laughter and humility.
casting myself like a stone, i have landed far from many whom i have grown to love deeply. for much of my life, i have often found myself in social situations where i could easily disappear and the moment would remain unaltered. it is a most humiliating realization - almost too great to bear. then i find in my isolation those moments - those beloved - that have formed me. much like the creator's loving hands, they have shaped and guided this life i have the arrogance to call my own. it is these shared experiences that bind. without these, the fabric of our very story would disintegrate. it is these binding moments that have revealed those integral to my life. i am eternally grateful for these lives i have been woven beside. many of you will never read this, but at the end of our days you will know these words were written for you. bless you. my heart aches - and i can't imagine a more beautiful circumstance.
Comments (6)
Thanks a lot for your kind words, Jeremy. It's good to hear them from you. I definitely echo all you said, though it's certainly good to hear someone else say them - it's easy to lose that perspective in times like these, especially when there are few people with such a wise outlook to remind me to see things that way.
The words you've written above there are also quite inspiring, as is your father. I'll try and have that same unwavering hope in my voice.
You have no idea how good it feels to hear (see) that. Â Thank you infinitely. You have quite the unique outlook yourself.
Jeremy, I truly enjoy your writings. You are often so very insightful, and I appreciate that. I seldom find myself in awe and wonder anymore. When I do, it's a very fulfilling moment, and now I will think of this post each time. Maybe sometime soon I can make it up to Seattle again, and see you as well as some others who are there... It's been a while, and I could use a change of scenery... Just not sure I can get away right now. We'll see. Thanks for your words of inspiration. Later!
i ADORE your profile picture.
Hey Jeremy,
Thank you for your comment and encouragement. It's definitely uplifting to know that there are others who understand. You're right; we need to be drenched in the truth--our final end, to serve God.
I'm sorry to hear that your dad lost his job. I'll pray for your family.
You're writing is very insightful and honest. I appreciate honesty.
--Christalyn
i hope you write again on here, soon. facebook doesn't cut it for me. i like my old xanga jeremy.