This morning, I wish I was a poet.
I’m sitting in the middle of an experience that’s hard to describe, and yet, it couldn’t be simpler. To put it into words seems ridiculous.
It reminds me of the day my first child was born.
It’s trying to turn a key in a lock in a door for over 30 years, and suddenly there’s a click, and the doorknob is freed.
It’s realizing the full weight of your own foolishness, and shaking it off like an old, well-loved, but too long worn shirt.
It’s realizing that God knew exactly what He was up to when He made a human being.
It’s mystery begetting mystery, and being overwhelmed with gratitude that you don’t control much of anything.
It’s realizing that all the stuff you thought you were…you’re not.
It’s free-fall into freedom.
It’s realizing that like the Apostle John explained about the Christ (John’s Gospel, Chapter 13)…you come from God, and you’re on your way back. What else in the world is there to do but serve?
It’s realizing that when God created humans “in his image”, he didn’t leave out the “I am” part.
It’s detachment, like I’ve read about for years, but in experience, is nothing like what I thought those writings meant.
It’s a future opening like a heretofore unseen flower, petals in colors and textures I’d didn’t know were possible.
It’s gut-laughter in the middle of the night, connected to the long ache that’s always been there, but that is just now eased into friendly hope.
It’s wondering if you’ve lost your mind, but the coherence is too clear and sharp, like bright stars in dark, cold, midnight country sky.
It’s just an idea, a collision of thoughts, and an understanding that gives up all pretense of understanding.
It’s finding that faith, indeed, is what justifies life, and that the faith you thought you were on your way to losing has been powering up deep in the hidden places to await it’s appointed emergence.
It’s realizing that indeed, “All is well.”
It’s weeping for love unrecognized and unknown.
It’s running toward home, where love and welcome waits, but it’s new, it’s surprising, and it’s enough.
It’s now, it’s here, it’s presence.
It’s also beyond words. So enough.
A glimpse into Pascal’s fire?
JEFF BERRYMAN 
I’m thinking you got your wish. Nice.
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OK, so what is it? Maybe I missed it? Sounds exciting. —Wayne—
We’ll have to talk. It’s a bit of a long story, but it relates to the way I think about identity.
It sounds like one of those brief moments when God allows us a glimpse into His mind and shares His reality–the Truth–with us, and (more importantly) when we “get it”. Congrats on the breakthrough. May there be many more…
PS–Thank you for articulating what those of us cannot.
Thanks so much for stopping by and for the blessing…means a lot. Peace, Jeff
Yes! Yes!Yes! Praise God!
My personal favorite; “It’s free-fall into freedom.”
You are a poet. I “saw” bonds of release with each very visual phrase. Whatever the breakthrough, I am happy for you and praising God.
the false idea that poetry has have rhyme or even meter is the bailiwick of critics without the ability to be a poet. I grant your wish you are a poet !WHAM! if this is you first work it is a fine example for others of the craft which struggle to express through words the innermost feelings and thoughts that plague any self-examining Christian. you have done well, my brother, thank you for sharing your life with us.