So last night I did something daring. I allowed myself to be wooed by the Creator. I surrendered myself to the whispers of the One whose words had the power to bring all the universe into existence.
And what can I say? It was thrilling.
They all say that there's nothing quite so exciting as a hot guy's affectionate embrace and muttered sweet nothingness into your ear. Well, I say, OBVIOUSLY you have never been cradled in the arms that stretched out on a cross just so that you could personally enjoy tender, intimate love and genuine peace and security.
Laying on my back in the middle of the night, I decided to ask a favor of my soul's Lover: Jesus, can you sing me a song?
For a minute I lay there in silence, wondering if that was something I was allowed to ask of Someone so powerful and mighty, who had so many bigger, more important things to think about....
And then I became fully aware of my heartbeat.
Lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub.
I caught my breath as I listened to the rhythmic thumping. Dear Lord, it's beautiful. Thank You for the song. Thank You for life.
Through the following morning, I conversed with Him on and off as I sat through classes, did a little homework, watched a few YouTube videos. Over lunch, I told Him all about my exams next month and how frustrating and overwhelming they felt. And He made me smile with His replies; the gentle lub-dubbing never ceasing.
And then I randomly collapsed in a mental breakdown. What a dumb interruption to a perfectly romantic day! It was like time froze for an despairing moment. I felt cornered by myself and other people. My palms went clammy, beads of moisture formed on my forehead. My words were utterly useless to me. My breath came inconsistent as I tried vainly agin and again to organized my scattered senses and to proceed with conversation/work/life.
The only and loudest sound I heard was lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub.
