I have glow-in-the-dark stars stickers on the ceiling of my childhood bedroom. (They’re still up there.)

And after a long day of extroversion and bansheeing, it would be seldom known what I did back in my room.

A constant thinker, dreamer. Quietly looking at the stars. 

And I would lay on my back and stare at those stickers and think of eternity.

I would squeeze my brain and imagine the time before time and the time after time. 

And I would do this alone. 

It always terrified me. 

And that’s when I began to get a faint understanding of God. 

Eternity is what drew me to him.

He is. He was. He will be. He has been. 

Pluscuamperfecto.

He’s eternal. 

And I’m dust.

And I was drawn to the fact that such greatness wants to know and be known by this speck of dust. 

Dust meeting air. 

That still terrifies me. 

Because how can I ever adequately respond to that overwhelming measure of love? 

“Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is [eternal]; I cannot attain it.” – Psalm 139:6 

Ambini