Yesterday, I had a very interesting spiritual discussion with a hospitalized friend suffering illness. My friend was reflecting on the long, battling, bruising path they chose to follow in life; always running, always needing, never slowing down for fear of failure, disappointment and abandonment. Addiction came easy to their life. It was love and acceptance that always seemed so hard and just out of reach; love of self being the hardest. Facing the last years of life accompanied by physical health challenges, they now sift through the wreckage, reviewing life's lessons while seeking hidden answers. The runner has been hobbled (humbled) and now prays for peace. I mostly just sit, listen and wait.
Last night, while reading the classic novel Rebecca, by Daphne du Maurier, I came across the opening stanza of a poem titled "The Hound of Heaven," by Francis Thompson. Published in 1893, the poem follows the life of a lifelong sinner chased by God. Always hearing ominous footsteps approaching, even in the busiest settings, the sinner has run away, seeking people, places and desires to drown out the footsteps, if only temporarily.
Finally, as the sinner grudgingly finds himself at the end of life's road, full of remorse and hurt, he musters the courage to turn and finally confront the footsteps. It turns out, what he thought were haunting and hunting footsteps chasing after him throughout the years was actually the love of God. The sinner learned he had been running away from the love and acceptance he craved all his life. It was never out of reach, it had been just behind him, trying to keep pace the whole time. All he needed do was turn, look and trust his own soul. Love begets love!
Today, I was hoping to share the poem with my hospitalized friend. Because it's written in an old classical English style, I thought perhaps a more modern edition of the story easier for my friend to decipher. Browsing online, I came across this wonderful short film adaption of the poem. I hope visitors to this blog find it as enlightening and wonderful as I have. Creative Arts such as these are meant to be shared, hopefully bringing love, peace and understanding to a tired soul out there. It's never to early nor late to turn toward God.
Just a note on the poem's author: Francis Thompson, due to back pain caused by a nerve condition, he ended up addicted to laudanum (opium). He was homeless, living three years on the streets of London, until a married couple (publishers), took him in and nursed him back to health. Eventually, they sent him to live near a Franciscan Priory, where he stayed a couple of years gaining control of his addiction. It was at this Priory that he wrote his most famous poem, "The Hound of Heaven."
Oxvision Films
| I Fled Him, down the nights and down the days; | |
| I fled Him, down the arches of the years; | |
| I fled Him, down the labyrinthine ways | |
| Of my own mind; and in the mist of tears | |
| I hid from Him, and under running laughter. | 5 |
| Up vistaed hopes I sped; | |
| And shot, precipitated, | |
| Adown Titanic glooms of chasmèd fears, | |
| From those strong Feet that followed, followed after. | |
| But with unhurrying chase, | 10 |
| And unperturbèd pace, | |
| Deliberate speed, majestic instancy, | |
| They beat—and a Voice beat | |
| More instant than the Feet— | |
| ‘All things betray thee, who betrayest Me 15 Cont'd |
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