Tuesday, November 8, 2016


Daily we convince ourselves that our plan is good.
We know enough.
The price we pay for this finely honed skill is large, possibly infinite and impossible to determine with the human mind, see with the human eye.
Yet, the price is paid.
Our mortality is reconciled.
We can be with the creator; we are now humbled beautifully so that our worship is worthy of Him.
Mistakes, made unknowingly.
Roles reversed, leaving needs unfufilled, the world even less lovely and seeming less worth preserving.
Though heaven shines.
Full of the fulfillment of the promises we hope for.
The hope not of uncertainty and longing but of assurance and sustaining.
There is where I go, though I know not where. The path I will wander, I do not know, I cannot see.
But I reside within a body, my soul alongside the Spirit.
I know the hope.
I can rest.

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