I am looking for the voice of the Lord. Like Joshua crouching near the edges of the tent of meeting. Eavesdropping on Moses’ private conversations of complaint and confession. Looking up, peering at the clouds as they move into position. Fearless about the thunder and lightening that scares away those whose affections are placed only on this life.
My arms have felt the breeze of the Spirit erecting the follicles on my skin. The eyes of my heart are witnesses to a beauty that language cannot define. I have seen, tasted and inhaled. And yet you do not want me or need me to camp out and get lost in your presence.
To die is to be with Christ, but your gain is that I live. And so, that is what I do.