The Grace of Love | Heavenletters
Speech in the world is like trying to describe a color. A color is this shade without so many of these overtones and that undertone. There is a name for this color, yet many tries at it may occur before you can locate the color’s name. There is no God Dictionary wherein a word is exactly what it means to say. How am I, even God, able to describe how beautiful your eyes look like to Me?
With words, we are like sculptors. Our fingers can tell to the touch, yet comparisons are rife. How high is high? How soft is soft? How tall can ivy climb? What is meant by yay big? How tall is the sky? What does this mean and that mean? In a paint store, there may be a number that enacts an exact color and tone, yet a number isn’t the same as a name.
Names fly in and out of hearts. Prisoners may be called numbers. Names and numbers just aren’t the same. A number may be precise yet doesn’t compare to “Beloved.”
In the grandest garden, there is still weeding to be done. Weeding is precision-based. You love your garden, and you wish to give your garden all the goodness it deserves, yet your knees are sore from kneeling. There is upkeep. You may have to sweep the steps.