This world I live in is surreal. Odd shapes and distorted faces stretch out
from my mind trying to bring understanding and a deeper reality, but never
succeeding. In the voices and pictures,
I know there is truth, but there is so much more. I end up with a collection of ugly images with
dubious meanings.
I swear to my heart I will not hear anything but truth; I
will not speak anything but truth. Yet I
find myself fighting to understand what truth is. He knows the truth but it’s not what I
believe. Am I wrong? She knows the truth, but it’s not consistent
with what I know inside. Am I blind? I reach out desperately wanting to find more
of the truth and wind up wondering if I’ve found any truth at all. All of the surreal about me screams for
allegiance while I ask “what does it mean?”
Explain and let me believe.
I remember a line I’ve heard many times. “Let God be true and every man a liar.” That brings a momentary comfort, a promise of
stability. But in my heart I cry out
“Not every man is a liar,” and the stability is undermined. The conflict is that truth is so hard to
determine even in my best effort. It is
my nature to want an absolute. Yet so
many times I have been sure of the truth only to find that my truth was tainted
by my own interpretation and lack of knowledge.
Truth v Trust.
Much of truth can
only be found through trust. Does
believing make it so? Can we make our
world what we want by visualizing it?
Can I cast a mountain into the sea without effecting it’s inhabitants or
the inhabitants of the sea? Am I
prepared to deal with the tsunami it would produce? Can I materialize wealth or affection or
success simply through cognitive assent?
How would that change the balances of my reality? In my mind, if it’s true it should be universally
astounding. There should never be a
question if it is true. But the facts
overwhelm me and I have to admit that sometimes I don’t even know what the
facts really are. I have tried to
contemplate what it is that I honestly know.
But every truth of my life seems to be challenged by someone else’s
reality.
There are those who want you to be wrong. There are many reasons why they do and some
of them make sense. The most common is
that what I ‘know’ as true challenges their personal desire and experience. They trust a different set of realities, for
they must. But how can there be
different realities. The very word
implies stability.
Sometimes others want you to be wrong so that there is no
reality to truth. They have learned to
navigate the shifting landscape –Perelandra, if you will- and they want no
fixed terrain. It just makes it easier
to live if you make it up as you go.
Sometimes another wants you to be wrong so that he or she
can plant the flag of truth, as though truth is a plot of ground that they
cannot own if anyone else has already discovered it. “That’s my truth. Get away from it!” If you walk in there, you will be shown the
pretties, by if you stay, you are a squatter.
If you have established yourself there, the other will shout “False!”
and move on down the road. If you insist
on showing your pretties, they will be trampled and you will be torn.
Yet I have heard truth scream from the inside, “This is the
way; walk in it!” I have heard gentle
promptings “There is truth here.” I have
sensed the validity of a word as it was being spoken. But truth must be much more stabile. It must be universal. If God is truth, the truth of God cannot
change as we do. The truth of God can
belong to any person with out being a unique possession. What is unique is how it interacts in an
individual life. For that, faith must be
applied; trust must be activated.
I cannot change truth.
I must be willing to believe truth and let it change me. For those necessary changes to come, I must
know truth to believe it. AND I am back
to the surreal. It is hard to tell if
the meaning is clouded by the surreal or if the meaning is hidden in the
surreal. Yes there is a difference. But either way, I find myself digging through
the ugliness of life.
I walk this world as if it were a minefield. I cannot afford carelessness. Is that good, or bad? I dunno. Tsores (woes) are a given. I have long noticed the disparity between words and deeds of those around me, and when a promise is given, I try to have a backup plan. When I fail to do that, I am invariably disappointed.
ReplyDeletePerhaps in relationships we have to have a modicum of trust, the belief that when the chips are down, those we DO lean on do not reveal themselves to be shaky reeds. But even there we should not be careless.
The last two years have been annuis horribles in the relationships arena, and perhaps had I been a bit less naïve, I would have been spared much licking of the wounds.
A thoughtful read, Mz Donna.
Absolutes...I don't believe the Master is a connoisseur of gray. I read no where in the scriptures where He said it was ok to straddle the fence or take liberties with His Word. I have such a hard time in this modern day, explain it away, it's all okay mentality.
ReplyDeleteNow, I won't say that I know it all, in fact I have learned how narrow minded and judgemental I have been over the years only learning, in my maturity, that I did not love them like Jesus loved them and that I needed a heart change...hate the sin...love the sinner...still learning that one to be honest....
I feel alone in a crowd of God fearing people because I believe He said it and He meant it..that it is not open to interpretation...but then again...am I being judgemental again.
Where is the accountability? How can there be truth if there is no accountability? How can there be no absolutes if one believes in truth.
Catch 22?
Thanks for sharing...sorry I rambled...
I don't make allowance for ignoring or bending the truth. I just see that I miss it so often when I think I had it down. I see that it can be so illusive in some situations. I believed things so vehemently and turned out lacking in knowledge and understanding. Give me solid truth and I will stand on it. But some things just elude me and I feel so spent and foolish. I may have walked well in a funhouse when I was younger, but now, it just makes me queasy.
ReplyDelete