Of fire, of light, of thunder: my God is a God of holy passion: I have known Him to the infinitesimal, all that my soul could bear, and forgotten all but His mystery. To comprehend an aught fraction of Him is to know all that has ever happened, all that is, all of destiny to be, and yet still not understand the essence of why He is as He is. “I AM,” He said, and no two words ever wrapped themselves around so much power, nor were ever so ineffable. And I, this poor traveler on a quest to discover his mere self: I beseech You for mercy I do not deserve, knowing You have given me everything and asked back only for the fumbling that is my love.