Juxtapose

Jesus, You are the lone thrill to my soul. I don't know why I fall, I don't know why I don't smile, because, how could I not be as one thrashingly possessed, as one tormented by unspeakable joy, simply in knowing You? You are the Endless, the Ageless, the One who wakes me in the morn of the day and gives me one more sustaining breath to feed upon. That You would not grant me another breath while I sleep, that I would wake to see Your face with Your thorn-ravaged brow, would be the most profound and satiated happiness. And I know, with the utmost of surety, that it is all within Your power, to give and to take, to uphold and to cast down. Who else gives life as You do? Humans, oh, we profess and boast that we can take a life, but only You can bestow one.
Your hand is upon the small of my back, leading me through the day, and I wonder how the godless do not crumple to the ground without the reassuring touch of your hand on them. I wonder how I do not daily crumple to the ground at the thought of the Most holy, Most Precious, Most High Jesus reaching down His hands to receive me when I grow weary. I do not have words that are poignant, touching, hopeful, that anyone might remember them a year or a day from now. Yet this much of what I beg to say to Your face is true, Lord - I know not what to say to thank you for Your presence in my life. My words are so recycled, my prose is so overrated, Jesus. I bless You, yet I curse You with my very same mouth and tongue, and the weight of it bows my head to the ground that I stand on, the ground that You made, not so very long ago. I have no faith in my own knees to withhold the weight of my body in Your presence. I only know that I love You, and that You love me so much infinitely more than could ever be fashioned within my own thoughts, and truly, what more could I thank You for than that?