A Substance Not Seen…
Poetic prose on faith, hope, and longing
Inspiration for this prose came from contemplating the seasons of my life, aspects/themes of scripture, and certain philosophical ideas. I would love for this post to be interactive because I’m still marinating in my thoughts on faith, hope, and longing. So comment what Bible passages come to mind or what you are reminded of after reading this post!!
A Substance Not Seen
Caricatures of love’s work formulate through babels of definitions not quite defined, taking their claims as absolute thoughts- reasons to build a tower with man’s unrefined blots. God’s thoughts tower over man’s narrative, looking down on their rhyme, reason, and empty babbles that confine what exists beyond man’s season. He laughs at the mockery in man’s puny pride, but delights when He sees that mustard seed, faith that grows as a guide. Birds do not prefer to nest on man’s buildings, but in that tree of faith. Faith’s tree reaches the heights, becoming a home to many, fruitful in season, and offering safety through dark nights.
Faith is a tightrope, wherein one must be blindfolded to the physical to see what’s alive in the spiritual. For God’s words are spoken into the spiritual realm, existing fully without physically appearing until its appointed time. It is a substance not seen, as though His words collected atoms by rolling down a hill, increasing in traction and speed. A force to be reckoned with that does not invade itself in one’s space unless invited. Yet, everything gravitates around it, orbiting in its pull as though all things are attracted to it. This is the very paradox of faith; there is a substance moving through what is not seen, waiting for one’s belief to reveal itself.
The one who chooses to walk in faith is guided by the dim light of hope. Hope’s little rays chase away the darkness; so confusion scatters, fear is driven out, and lies die. Destined to become a fire of its own, hope grows and burns through the physical darkness as though what is unseen is already a reality. It burns down the buildings of man’s rhyme and reason and becomes a stench, foolishness to the noses of unbelief. But those of kindred eyes receive one’s hope as a soothing balm. For hope fans the flame of belief and re-ignites hearts of smoldering wick. Faith and hope is the gentle wind that whispers, “build the boat, hang the cord, march again, hold up the staff, cry aloud… for rain and harvest is coming, the walls are falling, the enemy trembles, the sea is parting, and the Lord will remember.”
But hope comes with a cost and love bears its weight. Hope selects a bottle, pours a cup of wine, an invitation into the Spirit’s divine: to pull by way of rope a fraction of His longing, sipped from the cup of beloved belonging. The Father smiles upon the sufferer’s journey, for though one drags their longing by way of rope, the Son dragged His in the form of a cross. Mere rope burns bear but a fraction of the splinters that nestled in the Son’s back. There, hanging on Golgotha, the costly display of the Spirit’s longing- a desire so deep to etch His love forever into our souls, like a poem that never fades.
Oh, the patience of the Spirit, so filled with longing to see His love dwell on earth as it is in heaven. Yet the Spirit waited and waited, strengthening the Son to carry His longing. The familiar road of longing is home to the Spirit’s cry, “Abba, fulfill Your promise to me.”
Then at the appointed time, harvest will rush in as a fresh wind, falling as tongues of fire, purifying speech, and baptizing one afresh in heaven’s joy. For when faith comes to sight and hope is fulfilled, it becomes a tree of life. A tree well watered by the river bank, with leaves of healing color, offering its shade to a passerby during the heat of day. So then the tree’s shadow becomes a gift, much like the darkness used to build faith and hope. If it’s true that we only stare at shadows- not the kind that creep and scare but shadows of things to come- then perhaps what is seen are merely expressions of the Spirit’s imagination. Therefore, if one looks closely, one might find His poetry written in shadows. Poetic words with power to enlarge one’s heart to trust the work of love, designed by the Spirit’s divine rhyme and reason.
Anna’s note: I’ve also written a handful of poems and sonnets that further dive into some of these ideas. I’m not quite ready to share those because they are too tender and my heart cannot bear the vulnerability in this season. However, I am looking forward to sharing them one day, and if you enjoyed this prose, I’m sure you’ll enjoy the poems. Thank you for supporting me!