my God

The one thing in my life I hold above all others is the thing hardest for me to write about. The very thing that sustains me, fills me, astounds me, permeates every minutia of my being- the very thing that can make me jump and sing like a fool for joy, and the very thing that can knock me to my knees and make me weep in contrition: this is what I can't ever write about. (The closest I have come is blog on 4-29.) This is not out of timidity, not because it is not continously present in my heart and mind, but simply because I lack words to do so.
There is no way to descibe the love of God, and the joy and peace found therein. To those who do not know Him intimately, it is utter nonsense- a security blanket, a pacifier for an immature soul. There is nothing that can convey the power, the reality, and the immediate necessity of Him. No strings of eloquence, no expressions of profound emotion- for these are the nominal external manifestations of an internal truth, the penumbras cast by a blinding light. They are viewing something perfect after it is reflected off of a mirror covered in vaseline.
That is where my problem lies. I cannot stand to write about what can never be adequately expressed. But I must, for holding captive the life within me does no good either.
So daily I must do my best as that inadequate mirror.

His fingers still my heart at times,
and pause my life to feel His touch.
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with eyes closed
forehead on crossed arms
arms draped over bent knees
everything fades

and from dry parted lips
comes a cracked whisper
meant to be a song:
this is all, this is all that I can give right now,
and Lord I know it's not much,
but this is all that I can give...