How can words ever be my own when I am overcome by what I hear? The teaching that scrapes the ground of the depths of places that I never knew existed. Oh how can it be that the heartbeat of a man is able to correspond with the melodies of heaven? How is it that the hunger of the human spirit can reach a place of such desperation that the imagination couldn’t have grasped it in times past? The knowledge of the one that created everything....the God of genesis one: holds and sustains the air in your lungs. He cares if you miss a breath, a heartbeat, he sees every tear you shed, He holds your life---You are His. We were created to worship Him, to love Him, to serve Him, to look to Him and to depend on Him. Our lives are not our own and yet we stand in a world that screams independence. We shuffle through the mass of culturalistic religious organizations and places of mundane nine to five compensations wondering why independence is so unfulfilling. You cannot take a fish out of water and wonder why it moves for its very life for it was created for water. It’s life is in that water. Where are the human beings that pant for what is their very source of life?
There is no escaping the words that I wish I knew to describe what I have encountered