Reflections of faith

A excerpt from my (Anna's) journal, written on a lake in the Grand Tetons... it's a bit long, and I probably wouldn't read it if this was someone else's blog, but here it is, for those who have time...

I sit on an old white fallen tree whose roots kiss the lapping waves of Jenny Lake. I love the sound of lapping water--it brings me back to childhood days lying on a warm wooden sailboat, my hand dragging in the water, the wind cooling my back. If I lift up my eyes from this page, they meet towering mountains, their jagged peaks still covered with snow from a long winter. The smell of pine and newly budding flowers wafts in the air. All I hear is water--the roar of a fall in the distance--and my own blood rushing through my body. It is peaceful in this place.

Places like this quiet me, as if I'm in a sanctuary and don't want to disturb the presence of the Most Holy. I can't explain God or faith or grace or any of those big terms like escatology I learned at Wheaton. All I know is that, somehow, for some reason, at some time, this Mystery spoke into darkness and declared that It Is Good. Who am I? Again, I can't explain it, but somehow, for some reason, at this present time, this Mystery chooses me and loves me.

It is in this Mystery that I rest and am at peace. I do not have all the answers (or all the questions either, for that matter), but I rest in the knowledge of a Redeemer who is calling me forth, calling the world forth, into a holistic restoration of relationship.

My image of God now is like the reflection in the water before me. All I can discern, through the ripples, are large shapes and rough colors. A dark block here, a lighter streak there. I know that the water reflects the true image of the mountains, yet it is far from clear. And that's how I perceive God at this point in life--I know some aspects of His character, but He is largely unclear. What I rest in is the assurance that beyond the reflections, over the ripples is a God so magnificent and real that were I to see Him, see Her now, my eyes would not be able to behold the glory.

...come, everyone who thirsts,
come to the waters...