This quote from a friend of mine makes me think about how we approach our spiritual understanding (calculated assumptions.)
Ideas are fluid and transient. Perhaps we should step back a bit from what we think we know, and keep a few things in mind about the mechanics of reading our scriptures:
That memory is not clinically chronological, it’s additive.
What we layer on is colored by what has gone before.
That we are constantly walking a labyrinth
rather than arriving at an answer.
That fear of incoherence causes us to ignore the tension in the story.
That we should read with the least pious understanding possible,
or, as Stephen Moore puts it – “we need to wrestle with the text
in the kitchen garden or perhaps the bedroom rather
than the tidiness of the drawing room.”
That we should assume an attitude of quiet listening,
if we are truly seeking a God who speaks.
Perhaps we should start in thankful awareness
for things we take for granted,
which are already given. (your list may vary)
Today I am grateful:
for the time spent with others,
for the long into the night conversations that are life changing,
for the interaction of those individuals who serve as grinding stones
or mirrors to my own experience,
for the painter whom I find rubs the color into the canvass
instead of brushing it on,
for the poet, beaten and jailed,
for life that emerges from dark places,
for the philosopher who challenges my statements,
for all of those who struggle alongside
so that I don’t struggle alone.