Non-fiction · Spiritual Sunday

being loved

I knew love once, when there were no description to complete trust. He came to me as words written on hand made paper, written in red blood. I knew him more when night came and nature was nurtured by the dark sky which covered Earth after sunrise. I knew news of him about the red clothed Cupid shot young hearts.

Till I really knew Him pure, without any Earthly element derailing my knowledge of Him. He knew me before conception, He knew me whilst I took the first breaths which brought me closer to dying in my mother’s womb. He made me limb by limb, bone by bone, nerve and vein, organs and all. I knew Him.

He sends me to sleep to the sound of His heroic life, His triumph over temptations, His miracles when He was human to enable mankind to believe His presence. I read all about him in a book known by all. Today, I knew that I knew Him. Long before, through my life long battle which I survived, my near to death experiences. He loved me: happy, angry, hopeful, sad, he loved me. Confused, comforting me, He loved me. Love, loved me, still does, more than anything or anyone can imagine He loves me. I know that, how? Because he has been love all along…

Posted by P.A.W. from WordPress for BlackBerry.

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