Father, order my thoughts and make them words.
There is something on the tips of all our tongues. It’s the look on the face of a dying man, just released from the hospital, sitting with his eyes closed listening to his friends read a book with him, resting in the gift of that moment. There’s something there. Something so powerful that I’m speechless, and I don’t dare to interrupt the embrace of that bliss. We all felt it but we couldn’t grasp it; we didn’t know what to do except savor it before it was gone. There are no words for that feeling. We just don’t get it. It’s on the tip of our tongues but we can’t say it. On the tip of our hearts and souls but we cannot comprehend it.
It’s when a random song starts playing and it unexpectedly brings you to your knees, brings tears to your eyes, and all you can think to do is stretch out your hands to praise God, the only one you can think to attribute such euphoria to. We don’t understand why or how, but it’s there. There’s something there which we just can’t get at.
But very soon all will be complete and we will see it as it truly is. We will become real and experience reality. We will sense with maximum perception. For we will no longer glimpse the divine with fleeting experiences, but we will live the divine.
When you smell a fragrance you haven’t smelled since childhood and the nostalgia overwhelms all your senses and melts you inside, bringing you close to unconsciousness, it is a taste of what is to come. Though right now we can only taste it on the tips of our tongues. There’s something happening in our midst that is deeper than anything we can ever know right now. Something is about to burst at the seams. And when it does we will look back and laugh at our finitude. But until then all we have are snapshots into the Director’s commentary, glimpses of the divine.