Cartography

I believe I've found divinity.  Or at least that portion of heaven that was allotted to me.  But I must acknowledge the source, lest I fall into idolatry. 

With each word I write or type, the shape of it becomes clear to me.  But the scope!  Oh my, the scope of it is so beyond me.  I have written a world.  Written into existence something that was not there before. It makes me giddy to think on it.  But I must tread carefully, or what was given me will be all too quickly snatched away.

I am but the highway the words have traveled on. The words come through me, not from me.  They come from a place of miracles.  From a place where a spoken word from powerful lips can create life.  And even as I am the highway, I seek to use the words as a pathway to the divine.  To explain what I see, what I feel, what I hear, what I know when I reach heaven, when I touch God.  The ecstasy and delight.  The speechlessness and awe.  The humility and gratitude.

I believe I have found divinity.  I have written a world.  It becomes more real with each passing phrase.  At each visit I find God waiting.  At each visit he gives me more of the world.  He gives me words and sends me back to earth.  He makes me the cartographer.  I must create the map and show you the way, line by line and letter by letter.  I have written a world, and this dream, to me, is as real as waking.