not tonight, darling

in the secret
in the quiet place
in the stillness you are there
in the secret
in the quiet hour i wait only for you
i want to know you more

i am reaching
for the highest goal
that i might receive the prize
pressing onward
pushing every hindrance aside out of my way
i want to know you more

open the eyes of my heart, Lord
open the eyes of my heart
i want to see you
i want to see you

see you high and lifted up
shining in the light of your glory
pour out your power and love
as we sing 'holy holy holy'

i want to know you
i want to hear your voice
i want to know you more
i want to touch you
i want to see your face
i want to know you more

holy holy holy
holy holy holy
holy holy holy
i want to see you...
(andy parks/ paul baloche respectively)

we need to be careful what we ask for, lest we get where God will open our eyes… we invite God to come and manifest himself when we join the elders, the angels and the heavenly creatures in singing “Holy Holy Holy”…

BUT when we sing this- when God may well intend to respond to our prayerful call/cry for vision and insight- we check our watches and start to get our stuff together so that we can do whatever it is that we’ve planned to do next…

what if, on this day, God said:

I want to pour vision and insight- my word and manifest presence- into this place to ready you for a work that I intend to do through you in this community, this city, this province, this country and to the ends of the earth…

Wait- where are you going? Don’t you want to see me? Don’t you want to hear my voice, touch my face, all like you said?

What do you mean ‘that was just a song?’

in the movie 'the notebook', james garner's character, noah, reads a love story to this elderly woman (played by gena rowlands) named allie that he regularly visits in a hospice. as the story of two young lovers progresses, the audience begins to pick up hints as to the identities of the characters in the story: the young man and the young woman in the story are noah and allie long before a debilitating mental illness claimed huge portions of allie's memory and personality. he reads to this stranger in hopes of calling back to himself, if only for a few minutes, the girl he fell in love with and has been with for decades. he reads the love story to call her back to her true identity and their mutual love. he reads and hopes.

near the end of the film, the veil falls and the recognition in her eyes and the warmth in her voice authenticates the transformation. she asks him how long they have (for she is, in the moments of lucidity, aware of her condition) and he confesses that the last time she returned it was only for five minutes.

all that hope and tireless perseverence and waiting for five minutes?

five minutes of what?

of true intimacy

of things being the way they were meant to be.

of relationship restored

of paradise regained

as heart wrenching as it seems, it appears as though five minutes of these things is worth it all...

they put some music on (irving kahal's I'll be seeing you) and dance together, sharing sweet words of love and intimacy, but when she starts to dream and to plan for a future, he cautiously says 'not tonight, darling'

but she's already gone. the time counter on the player says we're at about three minutes this time. his heart breaks yet again, and with it, the hearts of the audience watching the film.

i suspect this is a poignant enactment of something that takes place unendingly between God and his beloved- us. God moves closer and we, in a moment of lucidity recognize his face, giving both ourselves and God a taste of what once was; what was always meant to be; what can't really take place again until death from our fallenness reunites us forever.

and God's heart breaks again and again as he whispers 'not tonight, darling' while i'll be seeing you plays in the background. someday it will be different. someday it will be forever.

but until then, God keeps visiting, inviting us to remember by reading us an unending love story until that day when all the veils fall and the light and freedom of the eternal now replaces the shadows of this temporal causality cage that is life just east of eden.

I'll be seeing you
In all the old familiar places
That this heart of mine embraces
All day through.

In that small cafe;
The park across the way;
The children's carousel;
The chestnut trees;
The wishin' well.

I'll be seeing you
In every lovely summer's day;
In every thing that's light and gay.
I'll always think of you that way.

I'll find you
In the morning sun
And when the night is new.
I'll be looking at the moon,
But I'll be seeing you.

I'll be seeing you
In every lovely summer's day;
In every thing that's light and gay.
I'll always think of you that way.

I'll find you
In the morning sun
And when the night is new.
I'll be looking at the moon,
But I'll be seeing you.
(irving kahal)