If I could speak briefly about what life should be when I fathom, absolutely, having come into Union with you, I imagine my voice would shake, emitting resonance as follows:
It wasn’t planned, how you and I met, not by me at least. I spent my whole life looking for you going in mistaken directions what felt like a million times. I even envisaged having met you when traveling said paths. I can recall how good they felt, too, but none would begin to compare to you. In hindsight, I knew they weren’t you; some felt like dead ends, early terminations…
We aren’t even wholly acquainted as I still build upon all you’ve offered me, yet I finally feel complete. And beyond what I feel, I’ve never stopped stopping to think, since the day you were no more unbeknownst to me.
The idea of you kept me going. The potential. The belief that there was more. For my development, you conceptualized major terms before we ever intersected. You encouraged me to pray more, that I might be certain that all I do would align with God’s plan for my life. You burgeoned my faith, that I might believe in what I had not yet seen. You comforted me when things became stagnant, admonishing the more that hangs on the brink of diligence and tenacity.
The day I knew you were it, I side-stepped all that was impertinent. I fell upon my knees knowing that God himself stood inside of you and spoke to me. I could have wished, in that moment that I’d done things differently, but ignorance was an unrelenting bliss.
At my quarter life’s inquiry, I wrote a letter to myself in hopes that it would inspire me to seek athwart extremity. I wanted to believe in more. I realized in that moment, and through every prayer to follow, that with my working faith alongside God, limits do not exist. (Phil 4:13)
What a pleasure it is to have met… how nice it is to know… how grateful I am to grow… with you; thank you, destiny. (Jer 29:11)