This blog has moved. Please update your bookmarks.

By The Sea

Sometimes I get this feeling that the world we live in is alive. I don't know why - maybe I'm just completely deceived (and likely so) - but somehow I believe that we, especially as Christians, should and could be in touch with Creation in perhaps a special way. Or maybe it's just the storytelling, romantic side of me that likes to think that we can perceive Creation the way God meant it to be.

I was out by myself, walking by the sea in the evening (we had one of those company retreats); and I stood a long, long time alone by the sea, listening to the sounds of the waves crashing upon the shore and of the distant harbor far off; looking up into the starry sky and pondering Man and his place in Creation.

This is the part where it perhaps gets a little flaky, but I felt, somehow, that I could extend my feelings into the night and pick up traces of ... earth. Sometimes it amazes me what I pick up, it surprises me; that's why sometimes I believe maybe I'm actually picking up something real because I know I'd have a hard time thinking those things up by myself. And, of course, maybe it's not true; but in that case, at least it's a pleasant fiction to enjoy. :)

The earth, and the beach, felt old ... way, way older than I could understand. I could sense millions and millions of years of rock, the foundations of the earth beneath me, in slow and silent slumber. I listened to the waves of the ocean and sensed the silent, numb forgetfulness of the waters. My mind drifted away to the thousands of thousands of men and women lost at sea... sailors traveling the far-reaching oceans, fishermen lost at night in raging storms, soldiers on D-day... and there was no memory of them at all that I could pick up on; they had all disappeared and vanished in the deep, forgetting waters. The wind blew gently on my face, and I knew that wind had not long ago swept the plains of Mongolia, and brought to me a sense of remote villages and nomads with their herds traveling over the plains...

Above me the stars twinkled at night. Some clouds blew in, but the stars twinkled on, having been put there billions of years ago. Still singing their harmonic melodies of raging fusion storms, broadcasting their presence in the sky like beacons in the great, vast nothingness of space...

It's always difficult to go back inside to the guys playing around in the pool when this happens to me. Our little activities seem so temporary, so... like a big paranthesis throughout the millenias of time. And yet we're here because God created all this and put us here to inherit it as our planet, to take care of and protect. Given the vastness of the time and space we live in, and the awe and respect that this Creation commands, I think we've been a spectacular failure so far.

On the plus side, I saw a satellite. :)


3 Comments:

At 1:35 PM, Anonymous Albis said...

Interesting blogpost. What does it mean exactly to pick up traces of earth :)?

 
At 4:01 PM, Blogger Mats Gefvert said...

It means that you just made a friend. :)

 
At 4:04 PM, Anonymous Marie Breskic said...

Det var inte alls konstigt tänkt eller känt och det var trevligt för mig att läsa som tidigare hade all tid i världen att sjunka in i naturen sa där sa det känns som att vinden blaser rakt igenom en. Du har helt rätt.

Jag tittar in pa din blog ibland för att jag saknar gemenskapen med andra kristna och deras sätt att tänka och för att fa en liten känsla för vad som pagar där uppe i Skövdekristenheten och jag maste nu ocksa fa säga att det där om din kollega som tycker om Sällskapsresan, var mycket, mycket roligt.

Marie Breskic i molnigt Bosnien

 

Post a Comment

<< Home

 

Blog contents copyright © 2005 Mats Gefvert. All rights reserved.