This morning I’ve been thinking about love, thinking about life, about purpose, yours and mine. Does love have a purpose or is love the author of all purposes? Long consideration of this mystery of life revels to me that love is the mutual exchange of God’s essence, God’s spirit throughout His infinite creation, throughout every living thing from the first soul, the first atom, through the first living cell to an endless manifestation of life forms; inexhaustible precious motivation of life under every fantastic sun in every galaxy in our world.

In my life, as a kid living on a farm, I saw one of the most beautiful metaphors for the omnipresence of love. ———- Starting every year in the late winter; we began preparing the rich Georgia soil to receive the seeds for the year’s bountiful crop, the big field of tilled soil was so beautiful, like the beginning strokes on the canvas of a gorgeous painting.

Soon, the cool spring mornings welcomed rows upon rows of young, amazing, tender plants that raised little pulses, and flutter of love in my body in recognition of the miraculous new life, our beautiful newly born infant, our crop. The feelings grew stronger and stronger each day when we looked across the fields at the huge number of maturing plans bursting forth steadily, ripening in the summer sun ——– Fall brought the joy and promise of the spring planting to fruition —- it was so exciting to gather the bounty of the year’s crops as well as dream about the new stuff my parents would buy me.

Standing in those luscious fields I could feel my connection to the universe through my bare feet planted in the earth, a powerful connection up through my body into the sun, the moon, and the stars. Love, love, love.