Why are you running? The question sounded absurd in the midst of my flight, a whisper tossed in with the raging winds that whipped my hair around my sweat-streaked face. Fear pressed in close, perpetuated by the violent debris that I barely had time to dodge with each step. My muscles were strained and on …
The blue-green of his eyes reflect the agitated waves, which reflect the churning sky. Reflection upon reflection. An imitation of origination. See, the storm only mirrors—and that, dimly—the raging paradox of beauty and fury that composes his identity. I see it in his eyes, in the swirling colors. And when he laughs, the sound breaks …
“Where are you off to?” he asked me. I turned around at the question, adjusting my messenger back over my shoulder. I sniffed once, the air cold going in. My eyes fell to the ground, then lifted once more to his face. “Oh, you know…off to find whatever adventure might await.” Half my mouth tipped …
His eyes dance to the beat of the wind that rushes through his hair in periodic gusts, which keep time to his footsteps coming toward me. He’s like a song wrapped up in a man, making every element and created thing in his wake become more beautiful. No—not more beautiful. Rather, his presence awakens them …
The edge of the world. That was the only name I could think to call it. I looked to my left and right where in both directions stretched a barely perceptible wall that separated the brink of this mountaintop from the sky beyond and the valley below. What gave away its presence was nothing …
I don’t know how long I had been running when my mind hit a wall. I no longer understood why my feet still carried me forward. It was futile. Where was I going? There was no end—no goal—in sight. So what was I running towards? Not only that, but it dawned on me that I …
“If you want it, come and get it, for crying out loud. This love that He has given you was never in doubt. Let go of your heart, let go of your head, and feel Him now…” From I Love Your Presence, Jenn Johnson It’s dark in here. All I feel is cold and tense. …
I see him walking towards me. Well, really, only his feet, for my eyes are downcast. But I know who he is. Will he approve of me? I wonder. Will he validate all my hard work, make it all worth it? Will he scorn me for my weakness, my lack of discipline, my selfishness? He …
Hot, stuffy air surrounded him, its familiarity bringing him a strange sort of comfort. Jasper opened his eyes just to make sure everything else about the room was normal. His eyes darted over the dark room, and as he exhaled he let himself sink deeper into the mattress. All was well. Then his eyes landed …
