This section of a poem by George MacDonald is deepening within me…
It is a rest that deeper grows
In midst of pain and strife;
A mighty, conscious, willed repose,
The death of deepest life.
To have and hold the precious prize
No need of jealous bars;
But windows open to the skies,
And skill to read the stars!
Who dwelleth in that secret place,
Where tumult enters not,
Is never cold with terror base,
Never with anger hot.
For if an evil host should dare
His very heart invest,
God is his deeper heart, and there
He enters in to rest.
When mighty sea-winds madly blow,
And tear the scattered waves,
Peaceful as summer woods, below
Lie darkling ocean caves:
The wind of words may toss my heart,
But what is that to me!
Tis but a surface storm–thou art
My deep, still, resting sea.
My father shared on the MacoPolo app the other day that when a prominent theologian was asked the greatest truth he’s discovered in his lifetime of studying Scripture, the man responded, “Jesus loves me.” There is a depth to those words that sinks deeper than the storms of life. A wonder that goes beyond my sense of self. Belovedness is a mystery to me. A mystery I embrace and have enjoyed deepening as we have journeyed together. Above, GMac uses the phrase “willed repose.” This is an exercise I am looking to engage more often. Repose lends toward silence. Repose is a receptive posture. Repose reflects peace.
There is a scientific term called the angle of repose. This is the steepest angle at which granular material (sand, rocks, snow, etc.) can be piled without sliding. Increase the angle by one degree and the material begins to fall. I like this concept. While there is constant tension and pressure to slide, to fall, to collapse, I want to exist at an angle of repose in which I am at rest despite the tension pulling on me. To engage the world and yet remain at rest. To pursue peace without collapsing under the pressure. When God becomes my “deeper heart” and I “enter in to rest,” I find myself in that sweet spot. I reach my angle of repose and God becomes “my deep, still, resting sea.”
1 comment
“I want to exist at an angle of repose in which I am at rest despite the tension pulling on me.” I really appreciate this image. The idea that we have to have things all neat and tidy before we can rest is incorrect. We just have to find that balance where we can find rest and peace amidst the chaos and tension.