Your Truest Self // Living in His Loveಮಾದರಿ

The Way Time is Holy

You want to know what it looks like to pray to Me? To be with Me? To listen to Me? You are full of questions . . . when you pause . . . when you ponder your heart. Questions about Me, about how to live this day, about how to have more joy and freedom . . .

Don’t feel guilty about the hard days, the long days, the stumbles, even the falls. You could look back on them, analyzing them, thinking about how you could have done things differently and how tomorrow, no matter what (oh, you are resolute!) you will not repeat what you did before. . . Except, you fear you will.

You fear time passing so quickly—so quickly—and not being able to hold on tightly enough to time. A moment isn’t holy in-and-of itself. It is Me, inhabiting the moment, which makes time holy. So how could you mess it up? How could you make a moment less holy?

Don’t regret, child.

The only purpose in looking back on time—in endeavoring to appreciate it—is looking forward, looking to where I was, in the moment, then. Look back, if you must, but only so you may see Me in the moment.

Oh, girl, I am in all things. I am in all moments. I cannot be quantified. Can how much I am with you be measured? Must you try to measure it? Must you try to measure Me?

You are the girl I held in the beginning and the girl I hold now, still. Your maturing is Me birthing you, again. I let you go, and I hold you, and I wait for you, and I pursue you. And we breathe, together: In. Out.

Time passing cannot measure my love for you—the increments growing or shrinking as you age. I birth you and you birth too—breathing in sync with my breath—becoming more and more what I see in you, all along.

Be born again, this day, with Me, becoming even more yourself: the girl I hold. Pause and drink now. Ingest Me more . . . this blood poured out, this body broken.

Be birthed again. (Eat and drink and be satisfied.) Only then will time be holy—celebrated, appreciated, not feared.