October 2009
How majestic are your deeds, Oh God. How perfect and creative you are. You are perfection, God. You are perfection. Oh would you show me your love in a way that forever leaves a mark. A tattoo of you on my heart. A seal of you upon my arm. Upon my entire being. I never want to forget you. Even when I feel tired, or lonely, or weak, or sick, or constipated, or just not in it, I want to know you for who you are: total perfection, and always worthy of praise. You are good. Oh you are good.
Why do I sometimes feel this way? Why do my feelings conflict with what I know to be true? I am never alone. I am loved, pursued, truly madly, deeply by you, the author of love. Such passion does not exist on earth, and can only be found in you. Why do we look for, long for the shadow when we can get the real thing? Why do we dream of the glimpse of love found here, when we can experience the true love found only by you.
You are perfection, God. You are mine, and I am yours. Your kiss burns me, Lord. It brands me. It leaves the mark I so desperately long for. Brand me, God. Brand me, so I can always remember you, your love for me. So I can rememeber in those times that I forget. In those times that my flesh is ruling, or that I am being twisted by your enemy. Brand me so that I will know that I do not belong to anyone else. I am only yours, forever and ever. Brand me so that your enemies will know that I am not to be trifled with. Let your signature on me be so bold and bright that your enemies know that I am yours and you are mine. You are the lover of my soul. Total perfection.
I never want to go back to mud pies. Sure, they seemed fun at the time, when I was a child, but you offer richness. You offer fullness, and pleasure. You are not just the appearance of satisfication, you are perfect satisifaction. I never want to go back to mud pies. Unless you want to have a mud fight, God. That could be fun- playing in the mud with you. Can we make mud angels? Haha. How fun that would be.
You are fun.
