about the little things, written in missouri

But those of us who have seen the light, when we fall back into darkness, it is unnaturally dark to us. It reeks of mold. It is not good because we cannot possibly find happiness- a fulfilling slightly-longer-than-futile type of happiness. No matter where you are and how far you go, you will always remember a time that was at least .. brighter, bolder, and more defined. In essence no matter the distance we strive for a thing the past will always be brighter then the dimness we [seek to] see in the future. It was better that you could at least breathe easy, and the sky did not breeze dark and wheezing into dizzying smoke clouds wasn't the only alternative to breathing. So it comes to say in a respite of "diary momento" the moment I walked into the "prayer room" at onething, i saw to the many degrees of worship and experiencing God that people we falling into. And I did (maybe just think) that I felt a real presence. I wondered as I walked by the silent, the praying, the wailing, the dancing, and the crying... should this be how man should be, always positioned at all times, prostrate in awe of the One? I realized what I had been missing for a very long while- not as it were an obligation I had been skimping out on, but as an ongoing event, state of being, rather, that continued to pour out, no matter the time or place. I sat down and opened a NT that was da-da-da- ESV which really doesn't matter but they were the little things that I found myself marveling at, like how John the Baptist leaped for joy in the womb: He preached faithfully, yet not until 30 years later did he see the face of whom he lept for so long ago, and even then, when the man came, John said that he was not even worthy to touch the straps on his sandals. It was the little things that I found to be... quite big.