We run through the wilderness of God. Pressing through the overgrowth of love, down paths of peace, basked in mercy and compassion. We jump off the cliff of our own world’s madness towards the divine and find the journey is more like flying than flailing. You’re met with wings rather than thorns and branches. You didn’t ask to fly. You just wanted to walk. Maybe that’s the most beautiful part--you didn’t know you could fly. Too much in the world told you otherwise. Too much happened that made you limp. But evidently, not enough. Because suddenly, you’re soaring. More yourself, more true, more honest than ever before. You can never be able to define or distinguish the moment when you made the leap because the leap was always there—only waiting to be taken. But suddenly, you’re soaring. And you want to stay forever in this wilderness. And go where the wild things are.