It's all the things: grieving mothers, The Twilight, Francis Chan gripping the Bible, my friend planted like the Tree of Life beside the river that goes up to the throne, grappling in prayer for the abused, Clavan talking, Shapiro talking, and more and more talking about Israel, our universities, the inconsistencies, the babies being burned. Dying and living at once--longing to be attached to the eternal and presently tethered to the temporal. I remember reading it before that we can be and were meant for the more, the longer, the aged cheese and wine. Once we've tasted, too, we can't go back.
Illusive and altogether real, we are struck with these moments that we recognize as elevating. And it's not a trick or deception or smoke and mirrors. This is real. We are truly living while we are dying and when we die, we truly live.
God reaches and plants us in a garden that does not fade. We grow. We grow and we grow. We do not wither. And we will last forever. No more good-byes. Almost none. Maybe we leave the angst as we consummate the desire for all that lasts. We are one with Truth, Goodness, and Beauty finally.
