Happens to be

Last Tuesday was the birthday of an important man—the one whose hands were the first to hold me. He is one of the best men I know. In the midst of many faces, there is one face that I recognize as my father and he is kind.

We have no choice when it comes to what family we are born into. I didn´t choose a good father. He was simply there. Much like humanity did not choose to be created by a being who cared.

Our Creator—our God—might have been impersonal. He could have been cruel. He could have been taciturn, or unreasonable, or selfish.

Instead, the One being who has no beginning and no end, the One who will have the last word, the One who chose to create us (and in whom we are chosen), happens to be good.

Of all the “gods” conjured up by human minds, the true God—MY God—dares to define Himself with one word—Love.                                                                      

I didn´t choose a God of Love. He chose me…and He changes not. 

Match Made in Heaven

It was a match too perfect for coincidence. A match that made angels breathe deeply in wonder.

I walked away from it. I followed illusions. I thought there was more to life. 

At various bends in the road I wondered why my soul felt jagged and incomplete. Why did I sometimes ache inside for something I could not pronounce? Why was I restless?

One day, on a hillside covered with dry grass, I felt my heart settle. My being sank into a place that felt like home when He said, “I Love you, Ari.”

I knew then that this match was dreamed up in heaven long ago. Surfaces of my soul that had always felt lost and vulnerable had actually been fashioned to rest against the warm surface of Love.

“Your heart matches Mine,” my Invisible Companion affirmed with a nod.

It´s why I keep coming back to this hillside. It´s why I won´t look anywhere else for answers. Here I met my God. Here my heart met its match.