Run into the midnight sun.

The cold breeze runs down my back as the warmth from my sweat quickly fades into small crystals upon my skin. The salt has found a momentary crevice in which to instill. It finds a solace here. Its safety is so simple. Its need for escape is found when limits are reached and boundaries are pushed. It releases itself at just the right moment in order to give the body its essential form of relief.

And its from this I find myself wondering why natures' simplicity is so routine and methodical. I ask myself why these motions are so complete on a regular basis. It sets a perfect example for how I should be living my life.

Matthew, Mark, Luke and John. These are the only four books of the Bible that Jesus teaches in. In a book so large, I often wonder why he doesn't do more talking. Why are these four gospels the only ones to give his message in direct, verbal form?

Could it be because this is all we need? God only gives us just enough to believe and have proper, suitable faith. And when I take the time to dig deep into what he says it all becomes so simple. It's all right there. His instructions are clear, his intentions are black and white. And if there is any grey areas, isn't it obvious that this is where faith and love come into play? Our continuous faith and wondering love sends a quiet comfort from God that is greater than any words. Love is a two way street in which God is meeting us all of the way. And as this sweat seeps from my skin, I can feel the natural course of simplicity taking place again. It's not hard to laugh at my ignorance as I often fall away from these motions.

Is there really any excuse for spiritual hunger? God has given us bodies that complete tasks without thought. And each receptor joins to make the perfect connection. In reality, the Bible has done this as well, I just fail too often to see it.

God isn't routine for me. He's a good book that I read when nothing else is going on. He's a cup of tea I drink only when I am cold. He's a run I take only when my stresses are pounding. He's a tear I cry only when I've given up complete control...

Will we as humans ever be good at life? I'm not sure if I ever will be.

A white Bible. A silent location. Gods spirit whispering in my ear. It's a voice that can truly bring me home. And amidst these thoughts, I sit here after a run, thinking of this childlike faith. The clairty and effortlessness that come with youth. And as this sweat settles into my skin, I can almost here the melody to a song that I've been singing my whole life...