The Knitting Theologian

The world is charged with the grandeur of God.
       It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;
       It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil
Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?
Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
       And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;
       And wears man’s smudge and shares man’s smell: the soil
Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.
And for all this, nature is never spent;
       There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;
And though the last lights off the black West went
       Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward springs–
Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
       World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.
Gerard Manley Hopkins (1844-1889)

I apologize for the awkward spacing; some of the lines are not quite right. Windows Live Writer, which I otherwise find exceedingly useful for writing blog posts, has its limitations.

Anyway. I had quite an experience this morning.

People have asked me, “how do you know what God wants?” I’ve asked that question myself. It’s not always easy to know. However much I might sometimes appreciate a well-modulated bass voice booming from the heavens, God is usually more subtle than that.

But there is a way, which has to do with paying attention to how you feel when you reach a conclusion or make a decision. You pay attention to feelings of consolation, feelings of rightness. That’s what happened to me this morning.

It’s my habit to pray and meditate first, then go for a walk. I often reflect further on my prayer as I go. This morning, reflecting on my prayer and on some advice I had received from a friend, I suddenly realized what it is I really want to do with my life.

Holding that realization, I walked headlong into the arms of God. There He was, in a patch of dappled early morning sunshine on the path. I felt His presence all around me, palpably. Joy rose deep within me and spilled over. I felt a holy Yes, and I remembered the first line of that poem, “The world is charged with the grandeur of God.”

Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia.