The Point of Contact

nightstorm

 

There are times under a midnight sky we feel the breeze bring promise of rain. While the clouds still wait patiently on their horizon, the stars seem within reach overhead. The world is close, and all senses are filled with subtle and great wonders. Scents converge like no other time. The breeze itself is just a movement of cooled air, silk on the skin. The stars… those stars picturesque in their frame of gathering clouds.

Our soul lifts, stretches. It burgeons and fills the entire sky before us. It seeks the light above, to run with the rain and join the cosmic dance. We yearn for but a moment to feel that freedom, to connect with something greater… to brush the face of God with our fingertips and feel the full embrace of the Spirit.

Would that we could remain in this moment forever, in this brush with the idea of eternity.

The world knocks, then enters. A light comes on. A call pulls us away. Legs get tired. The rain eventually arrives. We ruefully pull ourselves away and turn once more inward, the memory but a silent nostalgia that we feel none would understand lest they shared those moments with us.

touchPerhaps in those moments, that is what we most wish. That for a moment our reaching, our searching with our souls would brush the fingertips of another. Across the world, a million souls are doing just this, and yet they do not touch. But the yearning remains.

It is an odd thing that we are beings of spirit, defined and shaped in our creation in the likeness of a being of spirit. We have the drive to connect, to feel love as instilled by our creator who wishes nothing more from us. But we are beholden to our flesh, we cannot but imagine the immortal touch, yet we strive for it, ache for it.

It drives us nigh to madness, to even rebellion against the source of our love. We despair of ever finding, yet always search. Our hearts betray us when we close ourselves off seeking protection from this desire. They wish in secret and turn our solitude bitter. Our disconnect allows us only the phantasm of a taste; the scent of true and real love.

If we are fortunate, we find another heart akin to ours. We connect in what ways we can. Even then, it is imperfect. Even then our want drives us to conflict with the want of the other. Part of us may begin to see all of it, the very idea of that communion of souls, as naught but illusion. Desire gives way to despair. The world has knocked, we have responded, and found nobody waiting. Our halls empty, our rooms barren.

Words are all well and good, but do they touch our souls the way we desire? Only tangentially. They may lift, may guide, may inspire… but the heart knows. It knows, it seeks constantly and continually, and will not be satisfied fully until it finds the heavenly well from which to drink.

Is there hope?

Genesis 29:20

New International Version (NIV)

20 So Jacob served seven years to get Rachel, but they seemed like only a few days to him because of his love for her.

jacob-rachelHere is a love, unconsummated for 7 years. Reading further, we find that when he thought it was to be consummated, Jacob was deceived, and so worked another 7 years for Rachel. In our modern day instant gratification culture it seems unbelievable that someone would wait 14 years, or 7, or even one in most cases.

We wish, we yearn, we ache for the immortal love, but do we love in return? Do we love to the degree that Jacob loved Rachel, even in our mere reflection of love that we have possible? If we love completely, would 7 or 70 years be too long to reach the point of contact?

We are flesh, and we are weak. Yes, in the small hours we feel lonely and desire contact. God shows us through Jacob, however, that the only way to assuage these feelings is to love more. Love wholly, completely and without reservation. Love God with all of your heart, your soul and your mind.

Millions cry out nightly, our voices raised to the sky in a dirge of yearning. Love them, too. You are not alone. Love more than your heart is able, and your spirit will grow and fill the skies. Soon, in the blink of an eye, yours too will be the immortal touch, and all past will fade before it.

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