Here, right now, I find myself telling Jesus that I just don’t know anymore. I don’t know anything, get anything. At one point, I thought I did. I thought I trusted him. I thought everything was exactly what it was supposed to be. I thought I was everything I was supposed to be. And now.
Now I don’t know anymore. I feel lost. I feel dumb. I feel nostalgia for what once was, this understanding, this faith that I thought could never change. But change it did. And now.
Now I’m here. Now I find myself thinking I know less than I ever did. I don’t know if I really trust him anymore. I don’t know if I really understand him. I don’t know if anything. Nothing makes sense. Now.
Now, I’m so sure of one thing. Him. Not anything about him. Not anything around him. Not what he does, how he does it, when he does it. Not his works. Not his blessings. Not his anything.
Just him. Everything that he is, whatever he is, all that he is. I just know him. His presence. I do not understand the words that he might be speaking but I know his heartbeat. His very breath sustains me not because it does anything to me that I can sense, but because it just is. It’s just here. As I’m here. There’s not much else to do but breathe my own. To close my eyes, open my heart and breathe.
He’s been telling me that for a while now. Some times more often than other times. Wherever I am, whatever I’m doing, it’s all the same. Just breathe. In… and out….. in…….. and out….. in…. and…… out.
I know everything there is to know. I have everything there is to have. I breathe everything there is to breathe. Satisfied, I live, thrive and enjoy. Amazed, I will be.