One of the questions that kept coming to me during the sabbatical was: ‘Saved for what?’ That’s still an open question for me, and perhaps it is for all of us. But that ride with Cloudy and Hadrian and my coffee with Phil propelled me closer to an answer, or at least gave me a new beginning toward slowing down and taking the time just to live that question.
If we let ourselves be drawn toward the mystery of the God who has no adequate name, we might also let ourselves be drawn toward the mystery of each other. Because your name is inadequate to who you are in the depths of yourself as well, as is the name of the person you think you know best in this world and the name of your oldest and archest enemy.
What’s saving your life right now? Perhaps some of the very same things that saved Moses and his generation: an apprehension of God, the invisible kindness of others, the strength of character your mother taught you.
In the end, faith looks like a kind of clear attention. A truthful way of seeing the world as it is or the person in front of us for who they are really can change everything, beginning with ourselves.
It’s scary in the boat and outside the boat. It’s unnerving just skirting the coastline sometimes. And it’s wild with foam and glitter. As we make our way through this known and strange world, buffeting winds will come at us sideways and catch the heart off guard and blow it open.