I just cracked my neck. Cool.
I was listening to All Creatures by David Crowder (listen to it.) yesterday in the car. And I kept imagining the landscape twisting and contorting to a glorious masterpiece to honor the King. You know. Like... Something from Avatar. Or Alice in Wonderland. But cooler and in real life. I almost started crying at the beauty of it all because it wasn't just me imagining something. It was God working through me. In the weirdest way imaginable.
You know when you need to explain something you're feeling but... You just can't.
I suppose what I'm trying to say is that I feel quite confused and broken. All there is to life is to simply press farther into the grasping love of Christ. But getting to the point where we can just walk into it is the most difficult thing ever. I'm not ready whatsoever, yet I can't wait till I'm standing at the gate of heaven. Can you imagine? No you can't. I can't either. I have a wild imagination. Like honestly. I do. It's my goal to have the imagination of a five year old. Jesus works in your imagination better than anything your brain will ever process. ANYWAYS.
It's one of those nights where How He Loves by John Mark McMillan is on repeat and everything inside of me feels tired and wants to be revived and lively and my hands can't wait to hold Jesus'. I think I could sing all night and be happy. But I can't. Because everyone in the house is asleep and would punch me in the face.
I guess what I'm trying to get out in this overly excessive contraption of a blog post is that God loves me more than I know. And that He doesn't care what I feel like, or what I think of Him, or how I'm doing in this life, because He is so consumed with the actions, thoughts, and the reality of Him loving this infant-like, pride-consumed, wretchedly dignified soul of mine. That's what I feel.
I pray wholeheartedly that Jesus utilizes my imagination for something more of Him.
Wouldn't that be nifty?
I just cracked my neck again.
Celery is the bomb.
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