A longing, a breath.
Then, a spark.
A life is formed.
Breath of love is breathed.
A formless void presents itself as a canvas before the Eternally, Creative One.
The One Whose very blink has power.
Who does nothing without purpose.
When He imagined me, He loved me.
He knew me.
He named me.
Then with tender fingers, loving heart, and abundant creativity, He formed me.
With holy breath He breathed life into these lungs with birth’s first cry.
A breath He continues to maintain.
Like life support He lends me this life.
Each day waiting for me to see how my lungs are infused with His eternal grace.
He longs for me to see our connection.
Not so that He can enslave me with guilt, but only to outpour His affection and love.
To share the rhythm found in his eternal heartbeat.
Pounding out the cadence of His soul rending passion.
A passion that maintains its fire no matter the coldness of my heart.
So, at the sun’s rising, my lungs fill with air, and I am greeted by His grace anew.
His mercy singing out an invitation to see the Source of each breath.
To look into the eyes of the One Who, looked into my dead eyes, not from a distance, but nose to nose, mouth to mouth, forehead to forehead.
And just breathed.
Because He loves me, He lent me this life.
And still He’s here, nose to nose, forehead to forehead, mouth to mouth, eye to eye.
Waiting, longing, yearning for the day when my faith shall become sight.
When I can, at last, see the Life Giver, as clearly as He has always seen me…
face to face.
“Now we see things imperfectly, like puzzling reflections in a mirror, but then we will see everything with perfect clarity. All that I know now is partial and incomplete, but then I will know everything completely, just as God now knows me completely.” 1 Corinthians 13:12
Someday we will see Him face to face, hold on.