Have you ever been in a place in your life where everything, every-single-little-thing, means something. Where you go about your day knowing life is rich. It's not all easy. It's not all fun. But it's all clear. It's all love. Even the pain is love.

Somehow I'm there. I don't know how long it will last. I don't know why it's right now that it is. Every relationship is full. Every act is purposed. I'm thankful for each new day, for every person in my life. My faults are directly before my eyes and known to me, but I'm not afraid of them. I'm seeing light from darkness in a new way.

What is this? What is this but the undeniable grace of God that is given on no account but by the will of the Giver. Grace super-abounding. A little taste of heaven. An awareness of the kingdom of God on earth.

Yet even as I write, I feel its absence in fleeting moments. It's gone. It's there.

And I hope for what's to come, when the Gift is all throughout and around and eternal and near in a way that is fully known, fully realized, fully felt.

Complete.