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Amazing what you see, when you really look around. I saw the Loch Ness monster in a small pond. Two birds, drinking, swimming, looked more convincing than any blurry photograpah. From this are dragons made.
But where are You, o lover of my soul? Today it seems You are like the sunlit clouds; impossibly beautiful, impossibly distant. But maybe, maybe You are like the clouds - floating away in the distance, bringer of both great joy (to the farmer) and great sadness (to the child who wished to play in the sunshine).
I suppose I am those things - a joy to the farmer: I asked about the CU, maybe one day I'll start planting again, or be planted again, and this time my harvest won't rot - a sadness to the child: depressed again over nothing worth being so angry about, stupid algebra errors.
Maybe I should chase the rainbows I want to, the moonbeams that fall where I never go. They disappoint me, but in that disappointment is a pointer to life, what it is, where it is, Who it is.
Why, then, to keep the name Chess? Yes, it is more unique than Michelle, but the other argument rings untrue - there are never too many Michelles inthe world, because Michelle means 'Who is like God?', a challenge we would do well to consider more often, in this world where so many things are yelling 'I am!' or even 'I'm better!' and competing for the attention our Lord rightly deserves.
But who is like God? Who is like You, all of You, as one? Nothing. Even when I am floating in the great blue void and You seem as impossibly distant and beautiful as the sunlit clouds. Where are You? Everywhere.
'All this world reveres, and wars to own, all I once held gain, I have counted loss, spent and worthless now, compared to this...'
I love my name. I love my God. I love the things which He has created which we have not yet destroyed.
But where are You, o lover of my soul? Today it seems You are like the sunlit clouds; impossibly beautiful, impossibly distant. But maybe, maybe You are like the clouds - floating away in the distance, bringer of both great joy (to the farmer) and great sadness (to the child who wished to play in the sunshine).
I suppose I am those things - a joy to the farmer: I asked about the CU, maybe one day I'll start planting again, or be planted again, and this time my harvest won't rot - a sadness to the child: depressed again over nothing worth being so angry about, stupid algebra errors.
Maybe I should chase the rainbows I want to, the moonbeams that fall where I never go. They disappoint me, but in that disappointment is a pointer to life, what it is, where it is, Who it is.
Why, then, to keep the name Chess? Yes, it is more unique than Michelle, but the other argument rings untrue - there are never too many Michelles inthe world, because Michelle means 'Who is like God?', a challenge we would do well to consider more often, in this world where so many things are yelling 'I am!' or even 'I'm better!' and competing for the attention our Lord rightly deserves.
But who is like God? Who is like You, all of You, as one? Nothing. Even when I am floating in the great blue void and You seem as impossibly distant and beautiful as the sunlit clouds. Where are You? Everywhere.
'All this world reveres, and wars to own, all I once held gain, I have counted loss, spent and worthless now, compared to this...'
I love my name. I love my God. I love the things which He has created which we have not yet destroyed.
