If for every agony I had the answer I wanted, I would not have the sight that I now have, not this far I would have come.
The seconds, the minutes, the hours, the days, the nights, the weeks and the months undid my ambition for a fix without a process. Ambition born out of despair and pain but stripped with gentleness and love. A love that fights to the end and still I do not understand.
There were mountains higher than I ever imagined but in front of them I let go or rather I should say to today's sun, I am learning to let go as a consecrated act of faith, a cry from one who chose not to bury trust in grounds of disillusionment and wounds, but in fields of childlike conviction or a higher One.
Choosing to live with a fighting spirit felt like getting between dark woods, but the closer I got out of convicted footsteps, the more I heard just as close as a breath away, the strings and melodies made just for me. It was my song, the song of the Bridegroom whom I throw myself for unadulterated love.
The Bridegroom to comfort and restore.
I do not have a proper exposition for how I stand today except that the blood of Jesus never failed in face of the most violent life events.
The eye of the dove has the capacity to focus on only one thing at a time. Their vision is limited so it is not easily diverted. When doves behold something or someone it desires its eyes are set with exclusive and undistracted attention. So finally my soul, watch what He does for each arrow targeted to what was predestined to be the purest white. Taste the Bridegroom's cause. A single taste from touching the holy robe.