I’ve always been fascinated by a clear night sky. The light against the blackened backdrop. Each star and galaxy, appearing as a shimmering dot to my eye. To know that one could travel at the speed of light and never reach those places. The emptiness, full of so much that we will never know. The mysterious splendor of it all. A created universe, I believe, by a much bigger and more infinite God than I can fathom when observing the cosmos.
I sometimes fret over what happens here in this little space of mine. I hold onto the worries: the things that, really, amount to nothing. I think about the things that cannot be changed. I look at the external world; the mess of people, and wonder why they do the things that they do. I wonder why I do what I do. I come up with reasons to write my little stories of truth and experiences with the hope of helping someone else in the world: someone within a little place of their own. Someone, looking into that same infinite emptiness of space. Someone with their own questions, experiences and beliefs.
I have often wondered if there is life out there, somewhere, that God didn’t want us to know about. I sometimes wonder if Jesus walked among a different people on the other side of the universe. Some may say that I am going too far by asking, but we all have gone too far in our own ways. Is this same sin that haunts our little planet haunting another, a billion light-years away? I often think about the painful struggles that I have endured, and the progress made. I also think about the true strength that was never present until the acknowledgment of Him within had manifested; the same strength that descended upon Christ like a dove in those days passed.
I am a ball of anxieties, at times. I am sad, a lot, in recent days. People have moved on, away from this physical realm. Those I love have been dabbling in their own sinful pleasures and pushing me out of their equations.
It all hurts.
My life has been riddled with stress and discomforts for so long, and I’ve grown very tired of remaining within the grip of their possessive reins.
I seek peace.
I desire the peace of God, and I see it, clearly, on a clear night. I see the minute worries and anxieties of this little life of mine in a different light when observing the light that emanates from those distant, crashing gasses. I see my little space as a much smaller space than I make it into. I see this fractured mind: producing angst, as of little relevance. Most of what it produces does not matter in the grand scheme of all things. The only thing that really matters is to remain in Him, and to have faith in what I cannot see with these eyes. What truly matters is knowing that the same God that holds the infinite universe together, is also holding me.