A Matter of Small Importance

Strange dim memories, which will not abide identification, often, through misty windows of the past, look out upon me in the broad daylight, but I never dream now. It may be, notwithstanding, that, when most awake, I am only dreaming the more! But when I wake at last into that life which, as a mother her child, carries this life in its bosom, I shall know that I wake, and shall doubt no more. -Lilith, by George MacDonald

So, I take up the pen, or more correctly, begin to plunk at the key board to write -to write after a long time of no writing. Looking back I see childish thoughts, the passing trivialities and lightness of youth. The scarce readers of this blog are long gone but really that is better. I write really for anyone but myself. So many thoughts have become tangled in my mind. So many things which once were so very clear have been harshly shown as mere fancies, as dreams.

Dreams. What are dreams? What is reality? What does it mean to be human?   Generations have come and gone. People die every day. Every day lives disappear from this earth. Some day that will be me. What does it mean to be human?

Our perceptions and thoughts are shaped by the world around us. We cannot think outside the box of our Universe. Thinkers have determined that this world was made by a giant explosion -nothing more, but how could that be? How can we say such a thing? In earth thought, that means there was nothing before. Nothing. Think on the word.   How can there be nothing? But what does nothing mean? All our thoughts stem from experiences in the world -there are no words or thoughts that can be used in a reality that is outside the trappings of the universe.

What comes after death? What is the purpose of this life? What does it mean to "exist"? It is frightening realizing that reality isn't really "reality". What if this world is a dream? But then, what would waking up mean? The thought is frightening. Inside, I want to panic, to rush away, to wake up from this dream of life. But what would I "wake up" to? Nothingness?

Thoughts are useless. My mind is not given the ability to think of things outside of the world. The fear in my heart speaks. "What is there? How lonely to exist forever! All alone, with no time to stop the pain."   This fear grips tightly, it rises quickly bringing a stifled cry, sending a mist drifting through my earthly existence.   "You will die. And you are all alone. Left to ramble."

So be it. Let life be a dream. We are trapped in the confines of this universe. But the old phrase returns: I think therefore I am. I think. I think? Why do I think? I didn't cause myself to think. Something outside of myself gave me this ability. Something bigger than myself is present. The clouds didn't give me this ability, the earth didn't give me this ability. Even my mother and father have not give this to me. There is nothing within this world that I can point to as the source of my thinking. This must have come from somewhere outside. I think, therefore I am not in charge. There is something outside of myself which is greater than me.

So there is something greater than me? The loneliness returns and with it a greater fear. If I am the product of something's work, then what if I am just a toy? What if this "thing" actually just takes pleasure in my suffering? What if it enjoys watching the torture of the world, the pains and the cycles of life spawning and ebbing? My mind is wound up in knots. How can I think about things of for which there are no thoughts?

Something comes to mind. A small statue hanging on my wall. A something has broken into this universe. What, I think, is it really that simple? Where our mind is unable to reach the something outside of our world, it has instead come to us. It came to us and this coming did not result in the smoldering charred remains of the earth. It came, and it became part of this world. He joined in our experience so that we would be given words for what is beyond our thought.

"All alone. You cannot understand life. It is all a dream." my thoughts try to choke me again. I cannot fight against these words. All I can do is cling to what I have been given by the Someone who is outside of this world. He has come to this earth and died and risen again. I cling to his death as proof of the love that the Someone outside of this world has for me. He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things?

This world is a dream. But this is where I have been placed by someone who loves me. I am not alone. I am here for my good. Though it will fade like the grass, and all that I cling to on this earth will disappear and be burned forever, I have a safe anchor to cling to.

I have begun to see how inadequate I am and how fleeting life is. In someways I feel like a little child. I cannot face this world by myself anymore.

Stay with us Lord, for it is evening and the day is almost over. Let your light scatter the darkness and illumine your church.

God the Father in Heaven, have mercy!
God the Son, Redeemer of the world, have mercy!
God the Holy Spirit, have mercy!
Be gracious to me, spare me good Lord.
Be gracious to me, help me good Lord.

By the mystery of Your holy incarnation; by Your holy nativity;
By Your holy baptism, fasting and temptation; by Your agony and bloody sweat; by Your cross and passion; by Your precious death and burial;
By Your glorious resurrection and ascension; and by the coming of the Holy Spirit, the Comforter:
Help me, good Lord!

Kyrie Eleison!