Are you saying something?
Is it correction? Is it suggestion?
Is it a critique of my life, broken down to swallowable pieces, administered at regular intervals so I might be encouraged- no, convinced- nay, propelled into a life-changing pattern of thinking, feeling, doing, being– all for the end-game tour de force I must inevitably take part of, when heaven and earth are judged and I am called to stand before the God of Creation, beheld in the eyes of countless souls called to life once more from the ends of time, and answer for every thought and action, every sin and saintly deed, every beggar turned away and every wrongdoing forgotten; can I stand straight and tall, despite my numerous trespasses, forgiven in my heart and in my own mind, to be called a Son of Yahweh, of the true and mighty and one I AM, and enter into his kingdom with my brothers and sisters and Brothers and Sisters and worship Him until there is no “until”, and I am no longer anything but a note in the most glorious song ever heard, or a single brushstroke on the most beautiful picture ever seen, or a face among faces reflecting the most brilliant Face imaginable?
I respect your advice, brother.
But I’m not listening.
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