Every year on Easter, I crucified myself.
From an outsider's perspective, it may have very well looked like Heaven, but it felt like Hell.
Sometimes when it felt like Hell, I started seeing glimpses of Heaven.
And so I observed Heaven all throughout morning, noon, and night.
Eventually, I always caught myself burning and about to crash because I had never felt so thirsty waiting on Jesus.
As the fire-ravaged my throat, I woke up in the barren wilderness and felt kind of alone that feels independent at first.
Then it just felt kind of lonely.
Grieving my entire past and future, I ate Herself.
With a relieved, overwhelmed, completely overjoyed smile; I couldn't remember His name and I didn't want to be held anymore.