When You keep me up at night, I wonder what it’s like to be You, Your Selves, One Self, and whether my middle-of-the-night meanderings are illuminated by You or illuminating to me or simply heretical attempts at understanding who You are and what You have done and who You will be as time unspools.
Do You truly never change? Do You care if I capitalize You? Are the rules humans make, the denominational legislative efforts and the unwritten local practices, are they anything close to an expression of Your will? Your mercy? Your dream for humankind?
Do You lie awake and wonder about me, about us, the way a parent does about a grown child? Are You a Friend, praying for a friend? Do You groan wordless prayers, inexplicit, laden with longing?
In the middle of the night, perhaps, I am not theologically astute, articulate, but I am accompanied. That much I know. And I thank you for it. I thank You for it.