Colossians 1:15-17
He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of
all creation; for in him all
things in heaven and on earth were created, things visible and invisible,
whether thrones or dominions or rulers or powers—all things have been created
through him and for him. He
himself is before all things, and in him
all things hold together.
Held
together
Do you hold us together when
we are falling apart?
Are you the glue, your
love the bond that holds each star in its course in the cold dark of space,
each glorifying you, each a partial revelation of you, each saying your name in
its own way, each with its place in harmony with everything else?
If so … why do I feel
this way, angry and bitter, far from the peace this picture promises?
Yet, I, too, am created
in you, through you, for you, a partial expression of the Wonder you are, however
dying and distant I feel from the Beauty that has lived in me, through me, the Beauty
you are.
So I come here seeking to
know, to feel, to be held close to you, to know my heart with and in you and you
in me.
In the solitude of
candlelight, I come … hoping to be held together that the disparate fragments of
this life might again find their center, the abiding place where comfort and joy
are restored for the coming day.
An inner gravitational
pull draws me from the bed of no sleep to this space where fingers trace the
contours of unruly emotion in search of the door through which the soul falls
into itself and knows again the Love that holds us together when anger and pain
rend the heart.
Even in the saying, in this
writing the door opens and again I know: There is this Love at the heart of
things and at the heart of this heart.
I know… made in you,
through you, for you … I fall again, pulled back into the orbit of your Love,
held together with you that the fragments of my life may hold together in the
Love that, when known, makes all things new, relieves every pain and awakens
tears that I should know such Love.
And that is all I need.
That’s all. To know this Love from which I get lost from time to time.
No mystery, I suppose,
for I am made in you, for you, through you, and in you … I am home.
You save me, again, from
myself, from old rejections that still live in me and send this heart careening
into distant space, lost, where I know neither myself nor you.
But here in the
candlelight I am found. Held together with you.
Pr.
David L. Miller
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