My dot-to-dot life
I jump from moment to moment, flying, arching through death-defying leaps. Often landing just short of my target and kicking furiously to hoist myself onto it. Onto the lily pad, floating in welcome.
Is life just a series of these landing pads? Mere dots? Seen from God’s vantage point, the distance between them diminishes. Closer and closer together they come until they are indistinguishable from a line.
A life line. Starting and ending by the Hand holding the pen. Shaping the letters of my name.