Still Water

What can I really know?

I haven’t lived so long —

I, being small and young,

sitting at the feet of the universe

and it sitting at the feet of God.

Yet, water in any quantity is still water,

whether dew drop or ocean;

if the cosmos are an ocean of knowledge

and I but a thimble,

the water in my thimble is still water.

May I live long enough to fill my thimble

and, if needed, long enough to learn when

to empty it or accept its emptying,

knowing the value of my being and my time here

is not told by how much water fills my thimble at the end,

but by whom I ask for water.

Background:

I often feel overwhelmed by how much I don’t know, how many interesting ideas and skills are in the world, how time seems so scarce in the face of how much there is to captivate and fill us with wonder! I want to know stuff!

What I do know seems so small, and sometimes I question if I even have the ability to truly determine if the little that I think I know is true. I also have an instinctual shiver of fear at the thought of losing memories and of what I imagine as a shaky sensation of losing myself with them.

But if my knowledge of myself and of life in general is not what my existence depends on, if me existing is defined by Someone ELSE knowing ME, then the fear’s grip is shaken.

Lord, help us seek You, the source of knowledge, instead of just knowledge itself. Knowledge can come and go, our sense of self can come and go, change and grow, but if You know us, our identity is held safe for us, even if we forget it for a time in this body. We are assured that one day, Your children will know as we have been known. Help us not lose heart in a world that can make us feel like we are losing our minds.

Wishing you goodness without end,

Jess