My gaze on the ground, He tucks a finger beneath my chin and gently lifts my head. When I meet His eyes, I am startled, trapped by the intensity of His love, for it burns with a power that makes my head spin, and its weight causes my knees to give way and sinks my body to the floor.
Still I can see His face. The whole world reflected in His eyes. And me, at its center, a child staring wide-eyed. He smiles, a contagious smile. Every feature of His countenance filled with light, my vision spilling over liquid gold, smearing the details. Joy pressing down like a thick blanket, I cannot move, I do not wish to.
There is no other moment. There is no past or future. Only this. He is, He is, He is. Everything else faded into nonexistence, mirages that vanish as reality pulls into focus. Thousand upon thousands of angels in the peripheral, white-robed singing Holy, and I can almost grasp what it means. His voice, calling me daughter, a whisper breaking through.
(This moment does not end. It goes on forever.)
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