That Forever Plane...

I hate the disconnection that exists between God and humanity. I hate the disconnection that exists between God and myself. Although I pray and read His word and worship and belong to a community of believers and serve as His minister, none of these succeed in fully connecting me with Him in a way that I desperately long for.

I cry out to God and He speaks, yet they are muted whisper on my heart. I long for the moment when we can talk face-to-face... when we see each other reflected in the pupils of each others' eyes.

I listen to hear from Him and He does speak His words upon my heart, yet those words fail to touch my hearing. Hearing has become a metaphor for our hearts longing to feel His breath upon our auricles as He speaks whispers to us in embraced conversations. I cry out for a touch from God and His touch is noticed as my heart's beat is increased as my spirit is stirred by His. Yet this touch is an empty hand stretched out for a rescued pull from His own yet not felt in the palm but only in perceived trust. It is a good touch but it is not perfect; it lacks yet still in substance of realized feeling.

It is having Divinity always at arms length plus a fingertips gap - always remaining constant, yet never can the distance be spanned while housed in homes of fleshly reminders that we once walked in gardens but now trudge in deserts of distance. Only when we are made to dwell in houses rebuilt on Heavenly planes will gazes be full-faced held, or whisper felt upon ears, or touches that hands and chests can only discern.

Now we are only allowed metaphors embracings but one day on that Heavenly plane when the journey from desert to garden is made will our faith become sight, and taste, and touch... I am longing for that forever plane when my house has been rebuilt.