I want to get singed. . . .
. . . .So close to God,
so close to His ever burning fire,
that . . . I want to draw near as I can
without getting burned.
Ok. Burned a little.
I want to get singed. I want to approach His Holy Majesty
so close . . . that it hurts, and then I withdraw . . . into His loving
effulgence. Give me Lord,
the most I can handle. I want to bask
in the Truth. I want You!
But don't destroy me for my greed. Burn that away in the heat
of your massive beauty. Just let me draw near to Your
ever lasting fire--and have
it burned into my spiritual retinas . . . forever.
And in the midst of that eternity, whatever the softer
condition, the singed edges of You
are always there. Amen.