I shouldn't be able to feel this happening, the roots tendriling down from my soles, my toes, through black loam and soil and an eon of earthy strata, drawing up moisture that rehydrates my dry and desiccated heart-places.
I shouldn't be able to feel this growing, this growing down and deep to stretch tall, but I do. I do, and it terrifies me and thrills me. I'd grown so intimate with living knocked down to the floor, my limbs sprawled disjointed and the skin of my cheeks permanently impressed with the shadow of the ground-dwelling gravel and lint that became my most intimate companions. Time and tiredness peeled back my clutching fingers one by one by one until my palms lay open and exhausted and released my hope of renewal or healing or happiness in Him.
But I do. I feel it. I feel the queasy months of brambled, pricking doubt shed a harvest of faith and renewal. A harvest of life. Can you believe it?
And perhaps I am still down here on the ground, weak and gravity-bound, but my roots are growing down deep and I feel them stretching the earth aside and it is a force that cannot be stopped because it was set into motion by the One whose name is Unstoppable, and anyway I don't want it to end.
Because there is nothing like the feeling of your own soul growing wide and sky-deep, an ocean of fierce fire pushing out from between ribs swollen tight with exhilarated gratitude. There is nothing like thinking that you are the basest lost nothing, slidden away from all thought of rescue, only to blink and feel that inexorable pulse emanating from your Holy-breathed soul and know –
I am not dead or dying. My skin creases and folds, the pulse of my organs dwindles away day by day, but the I AM is burning brighter within me every single day, the glory that ages only to perfection and no more, no matter the body's crumpling.
And yes, maybe I am quite crumpled myself, maybe I am writing these words askew, cheekbone still hard against the searing frozen ground. But my soul, my soul is flying, tumbling through air and eternity, and I am boundless in Him.
I am boundless in Him.
You are, we are boundless in Him.
Don't you forget. Don't you forget what we are, stardust and resurrected breath and blood running in the dead. Don't we forget.
Does it look like, feel like we are crushed to the floor, faces ground into grit and filth? Don't you forget. Don't you forget. Our souls are expanding, toward Him, in Him, and the whole wide universe can't hold us.