What is it about spending time in the presence of God that completely disrupts the quiet serenity of what I call my life? It is as if the answer becomes a question whenever I turn my heart fully toward heaven. The peace that I have becomes locked onto that one experience and everything else in my life becomes superficial. I am left with a longing to go back, but am required to live through the process of the present time until the moment arrives for the consummation of my desire.
It seems like a sickness is upon me. It takes the very life away from my dreams and forces me toward the future. I am disquieted toward all that is now and only wait as if hoping that the time will pass until I can once again enter the place of encounter.
Even writing this brings me closer to that which I desire with all my heart. Why should I wait until the next scheduled time for prayer? Why couldn’t I just drop everything and go there myself, now? I don’t want to put in the effort. I wish my life could go on the way that it was last week before the prayer meeting, but it can’t. All desire has left me save one, and this cannot be satisfied by any activity that I take up.
Whatever effort I throw myself into is only a distraction from this haunting desire. I wait impatiently for some outside force that never comes to throw me out of this wandering loop that my mind has fallen into. Would I leave it? Everything else is meaningless. It is the negative side effect of falling in love.
One cannot live on love alone. Certain things must be done for survival. Where does the compulsion come from to pursue them? In the light of what I believe I see, they all become exceedingly pointless.
Food. Sleep. The sound of birds. Drawing. The flame of a candle. A moment of stillness… All of these acquire that sense of weightiness that is lacking from what I presume to be greater ideas like success, accomplishment, achievement. Organization and responsibility fruitlessly call my name. I am lost somewhere on the current of time and appear willing to let it carry me wherever it wishes.
Until that time of prayer, I thought I knew what was going on. Now my only desires are for music, dancing, love, art, and perhaps ideas. But what would I give to pursue and perfect these ideas? Almost nothing. I just want to experience them. To be immersed in them is enough joy as it would be to master them.
Until this disruptive prayer, it seemed my life was moving somewhere. Now, it seems as though my world has stopped.
What is it waiting for?