Love with God has a strange nature. No one faces each other in the mortal world. One speaks, the other listens. One does, the other feels. Our Soul rejoices and sings with this communication every time.
Forget about love. I would like to spend a weekend in that warm and cozy hut... make tea with the pure snow outside and call that neighbour over to come over with scones and jam.
Having enjoyed the weekend, I will call the Eskimo Uber service to give me a ride home.
Why can't folks enjoy what is immediately available, then talk about metaphysical ideas like love?
Ask the Eskimos how to live. When you ask them, "What do you do for a living?", they will say, "We live for a living." What more does happiness mean?
Snow Tea
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