I'm a soul...man.

I've been thinking about my soul lately.

Admittedly, that's probably not something a lot of people are wasting the energy of their synapses on, but...hey, that's how I roll.

So, I've been tumbling this concept of "soul" around in my head and trying to put form to it.

You know, I think the soul should be "austere"...sort of plain and forthright.  Amish/Quaker...very devout and to the point. No frills.  A direct semblance of "you."

Our souls should be quiet and still.

Proper.

Our souls should only reflect the good stuff.  Our "inner being"  on its best behavior that we wish God would see.


Sorry, I call B.S.


That's not my soul.

I can't hide it...I can't fake it.

I don't really want God to see me all pious and pure...and mercifully I'm fairly certain He won't.

I want God to see me dancing.

I want God to see me reveling.
Reveling in the wonders of His creations.

Laughing and smiling.
Giggling and amazed.

This is my soul. It is a far more than one dimension. It's not plain...or black and white. It's a dodecahedron of color and curiosity. It's alive and in awe...unharnessed and unashamed.

I am a child of God, let loose in the privilege of His wonderment.

There is joy in my soul.