Every time I cry I imagine it my last.  Big, salty tears of joy and pain, releasing, transforming, reminder of blessings, discipline and freedom.  How perfect the human capacity to have “a moment”.  The silence or raucous reminder of how crucially important life is must always be.  Why then is there always an ending, to time to reason, stories and seasons, it all comes to eventual finality?  Is that ending what makes life so precious, that it has time limit, that its pursuits, attempts at longevity by indelible mark upon history?

My belly surges, not hunger, though an appetite reminds us of blessings, this time it is repetitive sobs for mankind.  Not weeping because all is lost, joyous throws of relief because some have answered the call to spirit.  To see them remember his name and give him rightful position in prayer is perhaps my greatest joy, next to the knowledge that he knows me by name.  But this too is fearful, for if he know me then he also must have command of my life and task to which I must, if faithful, respond.  What have we become Father that we could have forgotten the gift of life, given us, even for a moment.  May this moment, return my thoughts to pragmatic wisdom and forethought as to the price of the gift I’ve received.

Joy is the answer for it is free, priceless and infectious.  Not the poisonous contagion of sin or sickness, but the grandeur of transferred light source.  My heart burns with the light of God’s Spirit, my arms filled with the strength to stand the storm, my footfalls guided by the aura of Christ, setting the path of glory before us.  These tears are healing, they are emotion, they are symbols of my truthful heart.  For I weep for all of us that we might soon remember our place in this universe, this nation, ville, and programmed DNA.  For we are men, let us stay men and be free to serve God, filled with the joy that comes of just service.

I love you.  You cannot hear me because you focus on what the world has labeled you.  Investing your time in random or calculated attempts to somehow become acceptable to man.  Why not be as precious as you have always been right there in the skin that God gave you, designed for a purpose beyond  your own reckoning or imagination, designed for divine reason.  These tears tell me that it all matters, that though I convince myself I am not a part or debate with myself the value of our relationship, I am finally and faithfully confronted with Truth, Amen.  Love is my potency, my power, my answer, my calling, my weaponry, my tools and my prayer.  It is the one thing that will aide in darkness or light to find my way home, whether storm or sun, fight or flight.  You have taught me well Lord.  Thank you for your Love.  King Jesus Be Praised.