I get to these points. My mind is racing, churning and yearning for reason and truth. I’m tearing through fragments of ideas, as they pour through my fingers like sand back onto the beach. That’s my mind on nights like tonight. A beach full of sand, a man on his hands and knees, combing the ground… hoping to make sense of it all.

There isn’t a lot of sense that’s been made. I’m wrestling with thoughts of beauty and glory, and what Jesus meant when he said “The Kingdom is coming.”

I’ve been making earth-shattering statements all night, thoughts the world has never seen, and brilliant little quips about how we are made and why things are the way they are. As if centuries of questions asked by thousands of brilliant men simply unravel in the face of this new intellectual discovery.

And as quickly as these statements stumble off of my tongue and out of my mouth, they slip between my fingers and back into the beach, a beach filled with chaos, questions, and lots and lots of sand.