Breath comes hard. Not because I am panicked. But there seems no room to breathe. The stillness has taken it all up. What is this vast chaos around me? Why these familiar noises? The frogs and crickets every night. Has it been so since the beginning of time?
Artistry has nothing here. Form and structure – they don’t seem to make any impression on the impregnable void before them. My world is so small, so familiar, so under my fingertips. My world…this asphalt I sit on, the yellow street light, the rocking chairs on the porch. But when my mind wanders to times and places my body has never been – then I am the only thing left to call small, and the rest is a mystery so unbounded I cannot lift my head for more than a moment to watch its roaring. Already, I am exhausted. This boundless existence which no one can really know or hold within themself, it is incomprehensible. Inexpressible. What then am I to do with it? I wonder how many have gone mad before me.
I stare at it. All this that is not myself. And I can see, see that it is loud. I can smell, smell that it has color; and my ears, they clearly hear an unutterable brightness. But it is no music or crashing or roaring that I have known. It’s no colors my world has produced. It’s a brightness so blinding I cannot see it.
No. Perhaps I have always been blind. It seems so terribly likely. The little I have known and experienced must be less to God even than the blackness of the blind.
I lose myself in the inconsolable racket of existence. But sometimes, I cannot escape the hand that raises my chin to look. My eyes lock with this ageless thing I cannot know. A quiet terror catches in my throat. Not of the thing. That I could bear. But to think that I cannot know it because there is not enough of me to hold such knowledge – therein lies the terror.
The hand that held my chin drops. Blindness strikes me. I can see.
(In the above passage I meant to express that strange concept – that all I can see and know is as blindness to the God who comprehends and is the source of all things. When I stare hard into all I cannot understand or grasp, then a great wall of dark rises before me. Eternity, I suppose some would call it. Regardless, it often seems that I can see far more in my blind, small life, than I can when I look hard into the ageless mysteries which baffle us all. But I would not leave anyone without hope. Though we cannot see or know all now, there is day coming when the curtain shall be pulled back and a true reflection of reality shall appear. “For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I have been fully known. 1 Corinthians 13:12” Until that day, let us know the truest reality in the Love of Christ, so that one day we shall live with Him forever, knowing fully those things which are blindness to us now.)