His word rings true in me and all the notes of life tune themselves to it. Little by little they fall in line, those notes, those particulars. But not until. Not until I go blind to my understanding and relinquish my efforts. Not until I stop grasping and looking for something to hold onto. Not until after the free fall of faith – when all is lost to me and I feel the loss. To the core. Only then can I meditate on the very words of truth and have them come to life in me by the breath of a Spirit not my own. Only then does the ground rise up in me. And a well spring forth. And the things I had been grasping for are now given, but no longer hold my gaze.