Halted by the fragility before me. Looming at the edge of crevasse knowing all my limitations and its veracious appetite seeking collection that which is precious and essential. Why does one wish capture of floating butterfly? Perception of all that must be real because of appearance is failing. Concrete is manifestation of belief and faith the actions taken upon its establishment within mind, heart and spirit. The life behind left tenuous in revelation ahead lay venture by nature yet known.

What promise defends flippant pursuit of vain controls or poorly measured clutching? Letting Love form or fizzle is the path to perpetuity. When we delight in our own constructs and control sets we’re most often left with a putrid bag of folly. Leave me be said the sand to the flea but neither could escape into personal paradise. I am the brigand who steals, kills and destroys all that is worthy of pursuit. Lain fresh the scars of history’s wounding. Close but never forgotten.

Service does not seek its own intention nor provide harm where good may be offered and accepted. What is the pure heart that may be seen even at great distance in short timing? If the truths are not self evident then am I to yammer endlessly in hope of their transformation? What purpose is served in my own unaccepted counsel or the attempt as resolution in the impossible tasking? How tortured the unforgiveness of men who would burden themselves procedurally to mimic the world’s presentation of strength and captive reason? What is the meaning of Freedom? Does it transcend or waiver dependent upon participant or subjective definition?

We are those born free to accept eternal relief. Hunting aspiration or golden cup the squandered opportunity of this life. Gold or glittery hope born of possession with expected contentment is the greatest lie sold all powerful young men. Chasing abandon, seeking release and departure from Sovereign Grace and direction the pathway to never achieving either. Programmed with questions seeking our creation we must inevitably find that origin in a Loving Dad or in hopeless untethered wanderings that may never be fulfilled in purpose or destination. Seek Home and Find it. Seek Glory and find only the adoration and enamored moaning of momentary delight.

Mystery begets purpose and wisdom whispers caution at deep trench or fallen bridge. They that continue full throated shouting the folly of greater understanding shall seek but never find, hope but never taste peace. There is promise in the engines of humanity, found in the creative design of our collective capacity to pause, reflect and wait. Not every venture is achieved in rushed pursuit and unmitigated movement. The wait is great and patience greater still for them who have gained wisdom and those determined to follow His Will.