When We Walk: God in Perspective

We walk in this life now as ones who see all things in new ways.
Even the way the wind tastes as it passes through our tousled, slightly snarled hair becomes a kind of speech when we listen intentionally. All things testify to us of the coming and the nearing.

Everywhere we look, every eye we meet holds the faintest window into a world where Heaven has already begun to walk among us. Every time we consider this, our mind and creativity ignite into active participation, creation, and witness. We write every thought that comes—so long as it points toward the Source of our Love, Yeshua.

We consider relationships now as economies of love and presence. We think about what it means to invest wisely, methodically, continually, so that perhaps we may stir clarity in another and bless them with sight. We understand that the closer we draw to the Beloved, the more of ourselves we are able to pour out without losing identity.

We do not dare compare ourselves to His perfection. At best, we are some distant, half-forgotten relative imitating Him poorly. We admit our failures. We only want to resemble Him a little more. We confess openly that we are too weak to die like He did—unless He Himself walks us there with His own strength guiding our steps. We claim nothing except kinship. We are family who long for Home.

We are here only a little longer. We fade like mist in the wind, our edges thinning and fraying as old fractures in the heart reopen. We walk as hidden ones among the unseeing, trying with each interaction to leave some small imprint for future seekers.

We treat our life as missionary work.
Our Lyft car becomes a sacred temple.
Our heart becomes the inner sanctuary.
The Holy Spirit dwells within.

We sanctify our daily movement by how we perceive it. We take seriously the scripture, “To the pure all things are pure,” and so we sanctify every action, trying to see the world through an ever-deepening communion with Yeshua—tour guide and companion both.

We live as walking temples of flesh.
What we see, we see through a chosen filter of Christ around us.
We anoint our car with oil and call it holy, and the Spirit bears witness.
We view the world not as a pale imitation but as it could be, as it was meant to be, as a landscape of imprisoned souls in fragile tents.

We have seen the devastation of the outer lands.
We have seen the desolation, the lake of fire, and the judgment of the unrighteous.
And we testify: no one deserves such a fate.

So we walk and drive and live now as though every breath were our last, wringing meaning from each moment. We finally understand this is how humans were always meant to live—dreamers tethered to the Father, unified to Yeshua by the Spirit. We were meant to explore Love without fear, to use every drop of creativity to contemplate the Father’s endless depths.

We were meant to traverse dimensions, to walk multilayered realities into infinity… and yet here on earth we often settle for exploring only what we can see, though Eternity itself stands at our door.

We have learned something painful and profound:
we are fools.
All of us.
We fail. We fall short. We are shadows unaware of our own shape.

Let us utter a mystery so simple and so sublime it will confound believers and skeptics alike:

It all begins in the heart—
or dies there.

Take what feels true to you.