The Way I See It #129

I've been here almost a month, and I've almost got a hold of what Coleraine is about. I wandered around town last night after all the shops closed and the kids went home and found myself in what felt like a ghost town. It isn't hard to imagine the streets clearing and people at home, with their families doing whatever it is they do--watching t.v., yelling at each other, eating dinner, etc.

It's easier for me to know where I am when the streets are empty; I don't get distracted my the strollers or the school uniforms or unfamiliar language. It was nice to be able to walk and connect all the streets I've been on, see how they weave in and around each other meeting up at strange three-way intersections, and winding down narrow roads which appear to be alleys. I've not been able to make any sense of the maps of Coleraine, so it's a long-awaited relief to feel confident going out on my own.

In many ways, Bangkok was much easier place to navigate. I always knew exactly what path to take to get where I wanted to go. That monstrous, all-consuming city just sort of swept me up and carried me along with the rest of what managed to sustain life. Coleraine is much more subtle, it takes you in circles, never reaching a conclusion, only a river, or a round-about. But it lets you grow into the landscape instead of enveloping you in grandeur.

My perception of God is small. It's part of the definition of God that I should not understand all of it. I know that when I make God big in my mind, I'm only simplifying and enlarging qualities, rather than giving God room to be something different from what I expect. The most impressive thing I've learned in the last two years is that I'm not as smart as I think I am (note: I consider myself to be a very intelligent person, don't worry about that), and that God works in little things.

It is apparent that God is big--that in 6 days the world was created, in a moment the sea was parted, with dirt and spit blindness was healed. But God works in the small ways, too. Makes himself small and smooth, rolling about in consciousness or subconsciousness reminding each person, you are mine, whether you like it or not.

I can't remember a time when the thought of God the Father, and the memory of you are mine did not incite a desire to be useful. When the Father's love is clear, when it's sitting there in front of you or rolling around in your mind, something bursts inside and says, "what can I give?" This might only last a second for you, if you don't believe, or have reasonable reasons not to believe, or are just not paying attention--but that is the only response to have, and it happens in me constantly.

So that's why I'm here, wandering foreign streets at night as an alien, That's why it doesn't matter if you agree with why I'm here or what I'm doing. That's it doesn't bother me that I sometimes doubt God, or dislike the Church, or think people are crazy (not a comment on my current situation). That's why it's not a problem that I struggle with many things in my job right now. It's why I'm secure in my strengths and weaknesses and happy to tell you about it.