”What do I know of You who spoke me into motion? Where have I even stood, but the shore along your ocean? Are you fire? Are you fury? Are you sacred? Are you beautiful? So what do I know of holy?”
These words came to me today, a distant memory of a song that was part of the soundtrack of my life when I was intensely seeking God. (What Do I Know of Holy, from Addison Road, 2008).
The mystery of God seems greater to me now than ever. And yet I trust that God is the ground of my life, the source of love, as much as I trust the ocean to be there every day. It may look different each day. It may feel scary, or serene. I may feel like wading, or I may be content to watch the waves.
What do I know of holy? I know how I feel when I stand at the shore. I know how I feel with the rock beneath me, the waves before me, and the wind around me. I know the inherent goodness of creation. I know the power of love.
I am so grateful to know this much about holy. But I am under no illusion that I know more than a tiny fraction of God’s holiness. I stand at the shore of God’s ocean. May it ever be so.
