Joy unspeakable finds expression...

“Mims.”

“Mims, come with me.”

I looked up and saw Him and smiled. Closed my eyes, hugged my pillow, pulled my blanket back up over me.

“You aren't dreaming. I want you to wake up. I want you to take a walk with me. I want to show you something.” As if a young child on Christmas morning, He was being so insistent. As for me I was in that in between place, though I had heard Him; though I could now see Him, my room, my bed, I was still unconvinced this was really happening. Or that it couldn't wait a few minutes while I woke up.

“Come with me.”

I looked up at Him one more time. One more time rolled over. I could feel His presence growing in the room. I smiled at the ways He moves upon humanity. Other memories of other times with Him, with all that makes up the unseen, made me smile. I lifted my body out of bed. Went to the bathroom. I could feel excitement brewing. I knew not why.

“Look out the window.” He said with the grandest of smiles.

Now it was Christmas morning for me; as my smile must have turned grand. Filling up my backyard were animals of all sorts. I noticed the creature that had once come to my laundry room delivering a message, others both of this world and of other places. And I smiled. Then it wasn't just animals. To my right were different ones who I had touched, interacted with, been protected by; again, it was my smile, my Christmas morning.

“Why?”

“Because Christmas morning does arrive and extravagance is called for upon occasion. I wanted to lift your heart and make it glad.”

“You did.”

“Can I tell you something?” He said in such a weird way.

“You actually ask permission?” Was my reply.

“More often then you think.”

That statement gave me pause. The power behind it pulled my attention to look Him in the face. There was great strength there, along with it was immense sorrow, concern, and a fragility I didn't know if I had ever seen upon Him before. Reminiscent of Him as having emptied Himself of divinity, He understood our frame, He knew our frailty. That knowledge, that experience would never leave His personhood. While now in fullness; there were still the scars, still the remembrance, still the experience upon Him. I reached for His hand. The moment became more. I know not the words to describe. I lack them. In this moment my heart was reaching towards Him, compassion for Him, compassion for the knowledge He bore. It was still. It was quiet. It was between us. Creature caring about Creator. Human caring about Divine.

The essence of the atmosphere pulsated. Again no words. I hadn't been able to keep His gaze, hold my eyes towards His face in such a long time. Now, I couldn't take my glance away. I kept seeing deeper and deeper into His holiness, into His desire. Something was changing deep within me. I was caring more and more about Him, about His ways, about what He wanted. I dared not speak. Our hearts held each other. My heart cared more for Him than I ever imagined possible, while walking into the depths of openness of His, that while I knew possible, I had never touched nor certainly ever walked within.

“Know me.” He whispered. Tears streaming down His face. It wasn't a man pleading. It was my God imploring.

In that phrase, “More often then you think,” He had said more than if He had sat me down to give me one thousand and twenty lessons. In those five words, I was held within a space, a glance, that poured His essence into me and through me and upon me.

There was no moving. There was no more words to say. There was to allow that which had transpired to go deep. Not ready to move forward unto the next moment. This one hadn't come to fullness into my depths yet. It needed time.

Again my gaze found His face. His mercy, His compassion, His knowledge, His understanding, His nature, His nurture, Him; all was found there. We were separate in these moments; each our own unique and different self, except as the moment grew, so did something more. The space between us became less. I was still me. He was still He. Yet not so much. I closed my eyes. I closed my eyes as to partake into depths of this that sight would not allow but sensation would. I needed to close my eyes, not process with my mind, allow my heart its journey.

He began to sing. “You and me......” and I smiled. My heart smiled. Again I paused. In my head I spoke to myself, 'I am not in a rush.' To which He burst out with the grandest of laughs I think I had ever heard. “What?”

“I love you.” He said while still smiling as His body still moved with the fragrance of joy, laughter, delightful pleasure. “What?” Not asking in regards to His statement of love, more in repetition to my earlier question.

“You, you make me glad.” Was His response. He spoke the words, your thought, at the same time that my awareness arrived at the realization that He needed me not to speak to know that which was my thoughts. “Ah,” I said, “That I'm not scurrying away in a pace you've been trying to convince me isn't right for me right now.” There were no words in His response, just a large smile.

Then again it was His turn to become like the child upon the morning of Christmas. The spark flew back into His eyes. If possible His joy increased a million fold. Palpable to every sense and sensation upon my flesh. “Are you careful with that?” I wasn't even aware those words were going to come out of my mouth. “What?” He playfully answered. I knew He knew even more about this conversation about to take place than I, however I played my part and continued, “Your joy.”

I continued again, “It felt like an atomic atom splitting wide open, yet you keep it so that creature and creation can touch it.”

He looked at me. “I wish I knew what you were thinking in moments like these,” I said. “Your look is deep, what you know and understand deeper still. I wish I knew what ran through your thoughts.”

“You are touching them more and more now.” Was His reply as He looked at me, holding my glance His way, being serious in the moment.

“This is part of the call to know you.”

“It is.”

So many thoughts ran through my head, so many of the lessons He had been teaching me, and I began to let them interweave together. Forming out my soul with the seeds of understanding He had been planting for a very long time.

“This time with you feels different.”

“It is.”

“We aren't in a hurry.”

“We?”

I paused. Looked back at Him. I knew what He was saying, “I. I am not in a hurry.”

“Correct.”

“I love you.” Was all I could say.

“I love you too.”

Those words were out of His mouth and the atmosphere went back to such playfulness that laughter broke out. Not from either of us, per se, but from all, from everywhere, from everything, from every molecule and every drop of air. Laughter. Pleasure. Grand delight.

He grabbed my hand and we were gone.

Whisked away.

Landing, I was startled. Feet once again back upon soil. I quickly tried to gather my barrings about me.

Again, away.

Next it was as if I was waking from a dream, but I was awake. The air sparkled. It sang if I listened carefully. I could hear it and not. You know that place in life when you think you hear something so you lean into it to see if you had and what it was? Well, this was like that? There was a song upon the air. Not coming from a distance as if it would only get closer I could hear it better. No. It was if I only settled deeper, quieter, more still. Then I would be able to hear its “all” more. There was no better word to describe it.

I was leaning against a rock. I stretched my legs out in front of me. By my toes was the sweetest of streams. The air sparkled crisp, clean, lovely. Colorful. That was what was different. It was all taking me a while. The hues. The colors. They were different. They were more. They were alive. They were with the air filling everything with that song, that music. Everything was alive beyond alive. Everything was color beyond color. Everything danced. Everything was joy. Everything was life. And still I leaned against the rock. I leaned my head back upon it as I kept my eyes open. I felt it smile. The rock.

I got up. Began to walk. Looked into the stream. Smiled. Trying to take in all that I was seeing within stream, air; all about me was fragrance. All about me was lovely. I walked down a ways. A gate without a fence was in the middle of a meadow. I went up and touched it. Smiled. I kept journeying forward. In the meadow was a tree. I could have stared at that tree for ages. It was enough. There were those around it. We smiled at one another. No words passed through our lips. They didn't need to come. Utterance felt as if it would be less than. We simply knew one another deeply.

Playfulness erupted. Ribbons, hands, dance. That song got richer and richer, higher and higher, more and more. Around and around the tree we played, danced,

Then all was laughter. Then all was quiet. In what seemed was simply the flash of a second. I was alone with the tree. It was ok. I leaned up against it. Placing my hand upon its trunk. There was no breath to be caught. Just joy to be had.

A tall being of light appeared in front of me. I had known Him before. He did not feel new. We were to walk together. What felt like only a few steps but could have been one hundred miles became our journey. No words ever exchanged. Just the walk.

I was back to the rock. Back to the stream.

I took a nap. I took a nap as the stream gurgled, as the air sang, as beauty lived.

All I can say was I woke up as something licked me. I woke up to something licking me. And all that that entailed. I knew I had been dreaming. But then I was awake. Rock, stream, and beauty all still there. But what had licked me was gone. Had I been in the dream? It felt real.

I leaned back up against the rock; to say I loved it, to say that it felt familiar, to say all I could say about it would be to try and say too much. But I did. I loved it. It felt warm as if it had absorbed a million rays of sunshine.

I closed my eyes. I opened them. I closed them one more time. I knew something was different. Something was changing. Stream, rock and sound was moving. Or was it me? I closed my eyes one more time. Living room, toys, sounds of a different nature. I smiled.

“It isn't over.”

“Hhhhmmm? I said as if I was drowsy. ” More beyond relaxed then tired. Everything in me felt at ease.

I stared at Him. I smiled. I curled up upon sofa, with blanket tilting my head towards the pillow, He interrupted, “It isn't over yet. There is something else I want you to experience. Come with me.”

“You're so playful this morning.” I said.

“My joy is complete.” He raised His hand for me to take. As I took it, I felt it and then raised my glance to His, “Thank you,” I whispered. So much more left unsaid. “You're welcome.” Such a simple response to such profound realities.

“I love you.” It came from the depths of me. It was the truest, it was the only thing I could say. “I know.” He smiled.

Then it wasn't sofa I was curled up upon, leaning against. Still Him. Different form. I laughed. “Show off.” But I leaned further in, pushed up against, felt the firmness of His side; lifted and fell as He breathed in and out. I pushed up against again as I shifted my position. I wanted to both lean against and see. It was going to take some adjustment.

He just began to talk. He talked and talked and talked for hours. He talked about all sorts of things. I just leaned against Him; looking, listening.. taking it all in. When what felt like days had passed, he paused. “Want to take a walk?” He asked. “With you?” I answered. “Always.” He turned His great head my way, “ not always.” The moment hung. He had made His point. He had made it well. It had hung and landed with the weight He had wanted it to; having made that point, however He bumped His large frame against me and ran forward, beginning a game of catch me if you can. We ran and played for again what seemed like hours.

As time appeared to shift, I felt the ending of our time coming. I shifted. “Don't do that.” He stopped. Turned His head to look at me. “It is amazing to see you talk to me like this.”

“You see me,” he went on. I was touched. He spoke about how I saw Him in all forms, in all places, in all times. How when I see Him upon the dew in the morning, it blessed Him. How I see Him in laughter, enthralled Him. How I see Him in light, color, sound, sunset, sunrise, clouds, blankets, children, people, buildings, nature, earth; it gives Him peace, rest, life. He spoke of how in every moment I don't take for granted His presence, how He taught me to hold it as a gift and let it come and go. He spoke things I knew not about myself. He spoke things I just did and do that I never think matter. And He kept speaking.

He took such a deep breathe that He rose me up, not to my feet, but with significance. I could feel He knew the times were shifting too. I could feel His ache. “That matters to me,” I said.

The Lion lowered His head, “I love these times too. They aren't just for you.”

“One day,” I said.

“One day.” He replied back with a gaze that undid me. His hunger, His desire, His yearning so very much greater than my own.

We took our time with each other, each exchanging our affections, each talking non-consequential things.