Drawn to Mystery

I read a lot.  A lot.  I always have.  Since those days of childhood when my mother took my sister and me to the local library, I have read a lot.  It is like my first love was a bound collection of pages filled with words   I still read.  I always have at least one book open for reading.  Sometimes more.  Not too long ago I was reading for entertainment and insight about the ministry of the church.  At the end of the day it always seemed to be something that made sense and could be understood.    

Nowadays it is different.  My reading diet has changed for books that cause me to wonder what I missed.  They are books that when read I do not usually understand.  And, so I end up reading them again and often with the same results.  Recently I have read "St. Francis of Assisi" by G. K.Chesterton, a book about Ignatius ("A Pilgrim's Journey"), "Watership Down" by Richard Adam, and one in process, "Holy the Firm" by Annie Dillard.  I wonder about myself.  Why am I drawn to reading what I cannot seem to understand?   I suppose it has been that way since those days of long ago when I was drawn to reading the small zippered black Bible given to me as a child.  Maybe even then I was being drawn to mystery.  

I cannot say for sure.  But, what I do know now is that it is not what can be learned about this mysterious God that attracts me, but what cannot be known.  The long road of the unfolding years has brought me to a place of wanting to be in the midst of mystery more than I want to stand in the way of certainly.  Somehow it seems that within the mystery there is holy epiphany.  Within the mystery there is a greater divine revealing than ever I have known.  "As a deer pants for flowing streams, so my soul longs for You, O God.  My soul thirst for God, for the living God."  (Psalm 42:1-2)