This is not a deep thought, but I think I had always (for very small values of "always") pictured this as a kind of rope of leash keeping me close to God's help and mercy. But why/how should God's support constrain me from wandering?
We're handcuffed by God's goodness, so that we cannot (as much as we may sinfully try) successfully flee from God. Or, more specifically, we are praying that such shall be the case whenever we sing that song.
It's a nice prayer. One of faith, really, in not even our faith itself but in a truly external God. It's one of the reasons why I can always sing that hymn with a full heart, whereas the triumph of other hymns often sticks in my craw so that I find myself praying that they be true rather than boldly stating it in song.
I started blogging in the fall of 2007 in the hopes of becoming attentive to voices other than my own. In the next few years my life ambitions changed, I was accepted into a PhD program, and I entered the Catholic Church. The need to practice the discipline of listening is as strong as ever.
3 comments:
This is not a deep thought, but I think I had always (for very small values of "always") pictured this as a kind of rope of leash keeping me close to God's help and mercy. But why/how should God's support constrain me from wandering?
I actually always loved it.
We're handcuffed by God's goodness, so that we cannot (as much as we may sinfully try) successfully flee from God. Or, more specifically, we are praying that such shall be the case whenever we sing that song.
It's a nice prayer. One of faith, really, in not even our faith itself but in a truly external God. It's one of the reasons why I can always sing that hymn with a full heart, whereas the triumph of other hymns often sticks in my craw so that I find myself praying that they be true rather than boldly stating it in song.
I concur with Chester.
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