Two months to know that I love him, or that I will love him, and it shall be the death of me. This, I know now, is a wonderful thing.
It has taken two months and I remember not any plight of angst or insanity that plagued me from years past. That of my childhood remains though, and more clearly now.
I need to be better, as I am but in best pursuit of the self God has for me. To be his through the night and all time, may it be likened to a tranquil sea’s surface.
I float and float and so on, God all around me. I know not where I go but there is no worry creeping about. It can not swim!
This is how it is supposed to feel, this stillness. I keep still here, floating, and he will be surprised!
I tell him I only am still in nature or the face of God as I know Him, but this is a lie. With him I am still, too. Does he know?
I weep the grief out of my system, and thank Christ alone. In silence him and I drive, not too often, but growing. I have nothing to say, and this, I find, is a great gift.
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