To the One above all others:

He is so good. So faithful.

Periodically, thought returns to His gentle leading--so tender, even in the midst of dire confusions. And perhaps He smiles softly while so patiently guiding back unto and further along His Way: Bringing back to Himself, is all. Ever as to see Him more clearly, experience His love more dearly. Bask in the radiance of His munificence and grace, even ever more humbly bound by the precious weight of His majesty.

There is something so vastly humbling about His love and the tenderness with which He guides and directs. Even or perhaps especially given how absolutely atrocious it is that we should ever look away from His wondrous mercy--distracted by the tarnished, false hopes the world proffers. Then, yet He perhaps sorrowfully sighs, before reaching again and again for our hand--mayhap even gently resting His own upon our shoulder. Nearly undetectable, except for the burning of one's heart, in so experiencing His glorious attention.



And that fire rekindled brings to remembrance His goodness, mercy, grace, tenderness, love, and absolute preciousness--enough so as to break one's heart for having so terribly done as to falter for even a moment.

He is so good. He is so full of lovingkindness. Such love--unimaginable, incomprehensible. Measureless. Vast, Unbound: Eternal.

Eternal love.

Faithfulness which is so utterly and completely pure--wholly beyond anything which this world has attempted, as faith: so fully different as to nearly require another term. One deeper. Unwavering. Completely unwavering.

Whereas, our faith trembles. Even in the presence of His majesty--such sorrow, to note.

Lovingly desiring it not to be so, though. Prayerfully sought otherwise. But, even then, only by His grace could it be so.

Only by His grace, His goodwill, can we even manage to serve, to remain loyal. To the One who is loyal, without fault. Yet we falter. But for grace, all would fall, eternal.

Still, His love doesn't waver. Those who are His, He leads. He continually directs. Continually recovers. Continually molds and shapes and forms into such image as bespeaks His glory--even to the good of all creation.

How good is He, then, in Whom there is no darkness?

Good finds all life in Him, alone.