Not really blogging much at the moment with everything else that is going on ... so I'm posting beautiful poem by CS Lewis. He's a better writer than me anyway! This rocks my world and draws me back to a humble, mysterious faith.
"He whom I bow to only knows to whom I bow When I attempt the ineffable Name, muttering Thou, And dream of Pheidian fancies and embrace in heart Symbols (I know) which cannot be the thing Thou art. Thus always, taken at their word, all prayers blaspheme Worshipping with frail images a folk-lore dream, And all men in their praying, self-deceived, address The coinage of their own unquiet thoughts, unless Thou in magnetic mercy to Thyself divert Our arrows, aimed unskillfully, beyond desert; And all men are idolators, crying unheard To a deaf idol, if Thou take them at their word.
Take not, oh Lord, our literal sense. Lord, in Thy great, Unbroken speech our limping metaphor translate."