Tag: bed of languishing

   Love allured me as my barely remaining chance. Nothing else attracted me. My shattering had stamped out any lingering self-effort in me; even the sense of nerves stirring had vanished. Inertia bound me. I became the man under the bed covers on a cold winter morning, paralyzed. I concluded, “The next transpiration of events would take place toward me, but not from me.” Then God came to me. He found me in my pool of blood, so to speak, and said “live.” Did you hear? God began to talk to me — thoughts of love, reintegration, joining, and joy. Love counterpoised my “death of soul,” percolating the threat and leaving it to seem like a mere concoction of my imagination. Then it set on fire a new beginning. Love’s infiltrating spheroid introduced an orb of extreme well-being in me, a far superior one with warmth and surety. Now, enveloping…

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