Sealed With This Inscription: The Lord Knows Those Who Are His

How an Irish poet helped me find my way back to this truth: though we wander often, God will always come to take us home.

“You have traveled too fast over false ground; Now your soul has come to take you back.”

When my friend Ingrid Faro shared these verses from a poem by Irish poet and priest John O’Donohue a few days back, I literally stopped what I was doing for ten whole minutes.

This never happens.

This he wrote as part of the blessing “For One Who is Exhausted” in To Bless the Space Between Us. O’Donohue died an early death at the age of 52, but was apparently not afraid of death at all (unlike me dealing with my thanatophobia), saying it was simply “a silent friend who walks beside us all our days.”

Pondering the soul and exhaustion and misdirections we take in life is no small thing! (Read more about when we go too far from God here.)

And as an Enneagram 7 who prefers to pull towards joy and cheer, these are often topics too deep for me to handle. And poetry is not my strong suit. Abstract art scares me.

But something about that line — “You have traveled too fast over false ground; Now your soul has come to take you back.” — resonated with me in a way I couldn’t shake. So I dove into learning about O’Donohue and his understanding of human frailty and divine love. He’s an interesting guy.

Back to my point.

Because I think it’s very helpful to understanding the nature of our world and of God, let me pull apart the verse of his. The best way I can think to frame this is through the lens of 2 Timothy 2:19 so hold this tight for now:

“Nevertheless, God's solid foundation stands firm, sealed with this inscription: ‘The Lord knows those who are his…’”

“You have traveled too fast over false ground.”

I am entirely unclear if it is just me getting older, but these days I find myself thinking more about things that matter to me and how to fit those into my days. This past Sunday, I skipped church in order to make a Priorities list and I found myself writing “Finding margin each day for God” as my #2 priority.

I have realized as of late that I have gone astray and gotten caught up in all the other things of life. As I lay awake on Saturday, it was almost as though I could hear God trying to tell me something very important. So I stayed home from church to listen and to work on my list.

Now, I love to run. Last year, while training for my first marathon, I was out on a long run and weaving my way through the streets of the town next to me.

That town is not on a grid system. It curves all over the place.

My mind was elsewhere, listening to music and thinking about why I was even training for the marathon. Somewhere around mile 16, I realized I was lost. I had covered miles and miles without paying good attention and ended up having no idea where I was.

This can happen to all of us, especially when it comes to our faith. Important things of life crowd out our days until we have traveled through 14 hours from sunrise to sunset without thinking a wink about God and without feeling the wonder of God.

I confess that I have entire days when I think, What was that all about? Why did I live that day?

Have you ever had that thought?

I wonder if Esther ever felt like that.

Remember Esther?

As a young woman, she was collected into King Xerxes I’s harem as a replacement for his banished wife Vashit. The king liked her and took her for a wife but, really, she was put away to live in quasi-exile. (Read the full story in the Book of Esther in the Bible.) I don’t love the story at all.

For years, it’s like limbo. What’s the point of her being there, anyways?

“Now your soul has come to take you back.”

Spoiler alert! There is a point! God uses her to save all of the Jewish people from slaughter. But that took over five years!

Five years.

Let me go back to 2 Timothy 2:19:

“Nevertheless, God's solid foundation stands firm, sealed with this inscription: ‘The Lord knows those who are his…’”

We have traveled too fast over false ground, whether willingly or not. Sometimes its our own doing as we get distracted and leave no margin for God. Sometimes, like Esther, time just elapses with seemingly nothing happening and through no fault of our own.

But here’s the beauty of God: “Nevertheless, God’s solid foundation stand firm, sealed with inscription: ‘The Lord knows those who are his.’”

No matter how fast or how far we have traveled without God, we can always come home. He knows that we are His. His foundation holds firm as we wander and wait and worry. And His voice can be heard in the wilderness. It can always be heard in the wilderness if we listen.

In O’Donohue’s rendition, it is our soul that has come to take us back. This is no matter to me if its our soul or if its God. We can quibble over words. But here’s the point: God, who made our soul — the very, very truest part of ourselves that will never, ever change — is always coming back to take us home to Him!

It’s like the world’s best kidnapping story.

I can picture God. “Get back here, kid,” He says, with a twinkle in His eye and His hand outstretched. “Come home.”

I sure want to come home more and more these days. I am not entirely certain of what that looks like, but I know that it includes making margin for God and it means sitting quietly with the hope of hearing something. Anything. And this week it was “Make margin for Me.” So I’ll go with it.

O’Donohue ends his poem marvelously:

“Be excessively gentle with yourself.”

No regrets, friends. No shame or guilt that you have traveled too fast over false ground. Be gentle with yourself. After all, God is gentle with you. Listen to this reminder from David Crowder. I think God wants you to hear it:

“Now your soul has come to take you back.”

God is always ready to take us back at the end of every day, for the rest of our earthly lives. That’s a promise!

Much love to you,

💚 Laurie