my promise

Perhaps these thoughts are the result of the cup of hazelnut coffee I drank this morning or the frigid air outside, but for once I feel emotion stronger than my cynicism and so I am writing it down. Right now in this moment I feel connected to moments in the past, but even more so I feel the presence of the future. I feel in my heart love for men, women, children whom I have yet to meet, who have yet to take breath in this world.

God is outside of time. One of the few statements I can commit myself to wholeheartedly, and in this moment I trust His promise. I do not know where my future home will be or whose hands I will hold, but I know there will be love and I feel it now in this moment, an echo reaching backwards into my now, a ripple reaching me from the far shore, a harmonic resonance that has nothing to do with my abilities and everything to do with who I am. I give my heart to God and He in turn fills it love from every time, from every moment, from every breath that was, that is, and that shall be.

I read my words and they sound hokey, hackneyed, and hopelessly histrionic. I know this moment will pass; my heart is not strong enough to know the full size of time every day, or even five minutes. But I write this now so that someday in the future when I meet people and love them I will have these words to show them, to show myself, to show that my love and the love of the Father has always existed for them.




My
thoughts.
My
heart.
My
promise.




(picture by redorgray.com)