He is pulling me closer.
And lightheaded, I begin to swoon, buckled knees, bathed in light. The dark fades with every passing moment as the light spills and spills and filters and reflects all over my ache and uncertainty.
With every passing moment, I want more and more and more and more and more, an emptiness that can never be full and I long to be satisfied but pray that I will never be.
|The breath of God produces ice, and the broad waters become frozen. (Job 37:10)|
I begin, now, to understand why He calls Himself Yahweh - YHWH. The very sound of breath. The very Breath. And like being underwater without it, I break surface and I splash wildly and I breathe in deep and fill my lungs with Breath.
It tastes like joy and atonement and it surges through. And He is water and He is air and He is bread and He is breath. Lungs to heart to veins to nerves to brain to fingers. And I am filled. Filled with a glorious moment, and I breathe out, and breathe Him in, again.