Know but don't imagine

“Just be sure to know that I am with you but beyond that, it truly is impossible to for you to imagine right now. Please don't fret, however, because you are a vital part! To be clearer-if I may-vital doesn’t even begin to describe how important you are to me.”

“Think about this phrase: 'doesn't even begin.' Then think about a journey that goes forever. How far along is 'doesn't even begin'"?

“Now think of a word that beyond the word vital in the sense of vitalness. This word still would not encapsulate how vital. It is more vital than life to your own existence.”

“You haven't even begun your journey, you haven't begun to know your worth, your preciousness, your yet unwhispered value.”

“And that is perfect.”

Scaffolding

Scaffolding is used in a way that is not permanent. It is made to come apart and start all over again, to be reused in an entirely new way, but more the less the same way. It is like a man who creates his life just so, with single boards constructing a path from one aspect of his life to another. It is made to be temporary.

I ask myself, which is a better way to build my life? With the scaffolding or with the thing scaffolding is made of--the thing the building being built is made of, and the thing the sky the scaffolding raises up into is made of? Which is permanent?

The confidence of a life made with scaffolding is limited. It is not very transportable. It requires a lot of help to deconstruct and reconstruct. It can fall apart in a strong breeze. It sways and can be an eyesore to those who pay attention.

Confidence built out of everything, from the scaffolding to the grime on over-used scaffolding to the birds that rest on scaffolding on a rainy afternoon, moves like the planets around the sun. Easy and right.

Can, and will, I feel it in my heart when I am building scaffolding? Can confidence melt into everlasting purity?