Repeat (Repeat, Repeat)

It's 11:05, and I'm up again.

These past months have been full of dichotomies that are difficult to wrap my head around. Days have been threaded through with grieving and with yearning for what is impossible to have, but they have also been tinged with a hope so deep that it shakes me, a promise that has nestled itself so far inside that there's no pulling it back out.

I feel a combination of largeness and smallness, of glory from knowing that God's image somehow rests on my weakness and makes it more than what it is to utter humility at being so unequal to living this life well without help from my Father.

What I can say, and will say, and must say now--to look back on when the days seem heavy and the nights dark--is that God is enough. I am known.

We are known.

The bonds of human affection are tenuous, gossamer blown about compared to the cords that bind us to our Maker. This is a mystery.

I've written of it before and will again, but I'm transfixed by the thought of how one soul can meet another and somehow each can search the other out. How do we know each other? Each tentative look into Another is an unnamed miracle. And God watches over it all, this shadow of me knowing you, friend, and of you knowing me.

As He watches, I think perhaps He smiles, waiting for the day when we will finally understand what Knowing is.

Until then, may we have the courage to seek each other out, brothers, sisters, fathers, mothers, friends. May our shadows become more like the Light which casts them.