Jesus said to his disciples:
“I have much more to tell you, but you cannot bear it now.
But when he comes, the Spirit of truth,
he will guide you to all truth.
At some point, I started to use the notes app on my phone as a sort of outlet for my extraneous thoughts, my worries, my hopes, various quotes from songs I found important, and pretty much anything in between. It has been a way for me to move the often overwhelming swirl in my neural networks onto a page so that I can be more present to whatever the task at hand may be. In the past weeks, I’ve been revisiting these notes, deleting most of them but also keeping quite a few—cataloging them with the date I wrote them.
As I sift through my musings, I have found that—despite all the different changes in my life over the years—I am surprisingly predictable. I describe over and over again the same types of issues, the same themes, the same examples of cognitive dissonance that life continues to pose in new ways. Yet, when set chronologically, these notes begin to tell a story of what is most important to me, the parts of life from which I can’t escape, my best attempt at defining what is True and sacred in our world.
The truth of ourselves and of our world can’t be known all at once—or fully, by any one of us. The truths of faith are something that we at best can circle around, something we come to slowly, and (no matter how many notes I write in my phone) never fully grasp. That for me, is comforting, and gives me ample space between the limited human that I am and the Spirit of truth in which I can place trust.
—John DiBello, '16 BC '20