What he has NOT said
“Do you count it a great faith to believe what God has said? It seems to me a little faith, and, if alone, worthy of reproach. To believe what he has not said is faith indeed, and blessed. For that comes of believing in Him.”
“What should I think of my child, if I found that he limited his faith in me and hope from me to the few promises he heard me utter! The faith that limits itself to the promises of God, seems to me to partake of the paltry character of such a faith in my child…Those who rest in such faith…try to believe in the truth of his word, but the truth of his Being, they do understand not…[They] must come out of this bondage of the law to which they give the name of grace, for there is little that is gracious in it… He is not afraid of your presumptuous approach to him. It is you who are afraid to come near him. He is not watching over his dignity…” – George MacDonald.
It is as if I can hear God saying, “Do you get it now that it isn’t so much whether I speak as it is who I am to you?” I often asks God for this or that reply, answer this question or what does he say about this or that. I hear him speak more than not and it endears me to him. But lately, He has “spoken” less and I have been unsure of my self…and consequently of Him.
Yet, it seems that he asks of me this: to trust him; not just what he says, or his promises, but trust who he is. As if there is a correlation between the degree that I will risk and the amount I am willing to trust him, his character. The correlation doesn’t work when it is between the degree I will risk and the number of promises I believe; like this thing called faith doesn’t work on promises or even speech. To me it is the difference between reading and believing the letters of my lover, and dropping the letters to turn into and embrace, bury my head into the chest of my lover. One is a relationship with words, and nothing spectacular indeed. The other is a relationship with a person, and thus much more intimate, frightening, and unpredictable.
He wants more than words between us, just as a marriage is more than vows exchanged at an altar. A marriage built on words alone is doomed to end by words alone. A marriage built on trust in the person who said those words, on engaging them face-to-face is one that stirs the deepest dreams and desires of both, drawing further and further into an intimacy that can be unraveling.
So I am left with one question to asks him, and the answer is more an action than words:
“Who are you, then?”
“What should I think of my child, if I found that he limited his faith in me and hope from me to the few promises he heard me utter! The faith that limits itself to the promises of God, seems to me to partake of the paltry character of such a faith in my child…Those who rest in such faith…try to believe in the truth of his word, but the truth of his Being, they do understand not…[They] must come out of this bondage of the law to which they give the name of grace, for there is little that is gracious in it… He is not afraid of your presumptuous approach to him. It is you who are afraid to come near him. He is not watching over his dignity…” – George MacDonald.
It is as if I can hear God saying, “Do you get it now that it isn’t so much whether I speak as it is who I am to you?” I often asks God for this or that reply, answer this question or what does he say about this or that. I hear him speak more than not and it endears me to him. But lately, He has “spoken” less and I have been unsure of my self…and consequently of Him.
Yet, it seems that he asks of me this: to trust him; not just what he says, or his promises, but trust who he is. As if there is a correlation between the degree that I will risk and the amount I am willing to trust him, his character. The correlation doesn’t work when it is between the degree I will risk and the number of promises I believe; like this thing called faith doesn’t work on promises or even speech. To me it is the difference between reading and believing the letters of my lover, and dropping the letters to turn into and embrace, bury my head into the chest of my lover. One is a relationship with words, and nothing spectacular indeed. The other is a relationship with a person, and thus much more intimate, frightening, and unpredictable.
He wants more than words between us, just as a marriage is more than vows exchanged at an altar. A marriage built on words alone is doomed to end by words alone. A marriage built on trust in the person who said those words, on engaging them face-to-face is one that stirs the deepest dreams and desires of both, drawing further and further into an intimacy that can be unraveling.
So I am left with one question to asks him, and the answer is more an action than words:
“Who are you, then?”