At eighty-eight years old, I find myself standing in the great cathedral of this present moment.
It has no walls, yet it contains every place my feet have touched, every road I have traveled, every storm I have crossed, and every sunrise that has greeted my eyes.
Its ceiling is painted with the colors of countless mornings. Its windows open into memories, miracles, and mysteries I cannot fully explain. The floor beneath me is made of footprints—footprints from seasons of laughter, seasons of struggle, seasons of abundance, and seasons when I had nothing but faith to carry me forward.
In the center of this impossible cathedral stands a great tree.
Its roots reach deep into the soil of my eighty-eight years, and its branches stretch toward heaven. Hanging from its branches are glowing moments—thousands of tiny treasures, each one carrying a lesson, a blessing, or a reminder of the goodness of God.
I see the child I once am.
I see the young man filled with dreams.
I see the man who works, loves, struggles, succeeds, fails, learns, and continues walking.
And I see the man I am today, standing beneath this tree, still amazed by the miracle of being alive.
Every branch whispers the same message:
“You are blessed.”
Not because every day is easy.
Not because every path is smooth.
But because every moment is filled with the fingerprints of The Living God.
I enjoy this life—all of it.
I enjoy the mountain peaks, and I enjoy the valleys.
I enjoy the laughter, and I even enjoy the tears.
I enjoy the victories, and I embrace the struggles that have shaped me.
The storms are not my enemies. They are mysterious teachers who arrive carrying lessons wrapped in clouds. The difficult seasons are not empty places; they are gardens where unseen flowers grow beneath the soil.
I have learned that life is not beautiful because it is always pleasant.
Life is beautiful because God is present through it all.
I praise The Living God in my greatest celebrations, and I praise Him in my greatest challenges.
I praise Him when my cup overflows.
I praise Him when I must wait.
I praise Him when I understand.
I praise Him when I do not understand.
Because my faith is not built upon circumstances.
It is built upon a relationship.
And that relationship with The Living God is the greatest treasure I possess.
Everything else is like a painting hanging temporarily upon the walls of time—beautiful, meaningful, and precious, but passing.
But knowing Him is the foundation beneath the painting.
He is the music beneath the song.
He is the light behind every sunrise.
I experience joy in every season of my life.
I know what it is to have very little, and I know what it is to have abundance. I know the quiet lessons of poverty and the opportunities that come with wealth. I have sat at simple tables, and I have sat at tables overflowing with blessings.
Yet the strangest miracle remains:
My joy continues to grow.
My joy does not come from what I have.
My joy comes from Who walks beside me.
It follows me through every circumstance like a faithful companion. It sits beside me in humble rooms and walks with me through places of great abundance. It cannot be purchased, stolen, or measured.
It is a gift planted deep within my soul.
And among the greatest gifts I receive are the few precious friends who remain beside me.
They are not countless.
They do not need to be.
They are rare stars in the vast sky of life.
They stand with me through changing seasons. They laugh with me in times of happiness. They remain with me when storms arrive. Their loyalty is a treasure more valuable than gold.
They are living reminders that God often places His greatest blessings in human form.
At eighty-eight years old, I do not see my life as a simple timeline.
I see a surreal masterpiece painted by the hand of heaven.
I see clocks melting into rivers of memory.
I see old roads transforming into gardens.
I see tears becoming pearls.
I see hardships becoming hidden staircases leading me closer to God.
I see blessings appearing in places I once thought were empty.
And in the center of this magnificent dream stands a man who feels like the most blessed man on the face of the earth.
Not because I avoid hardship.
Not because every prayer is answered exactly as I expect.
Not because every day unfolds according to my plans.
I feel blessed because I experience the entire masterpiece.
The sunshine.
The rain.
The laughter.
The sorrow.
The poverty.
The abundance.
The friendships.
The lessons.
The miracles.
All of it.
Every season belongs.
Every moment matters.
Every breath is a gift.
And today, at eighty-eight years old, I continue walking through this beautiful mystery with gratitude overflowing from my heart.
I carry an ocean inside me.
An ocean made of memories, faith, love, and wonder.
And above all, I carry the greatest treasure of my life:
The knowledge that I walk with The Living God, and He walks with me.
Every moment is grace.
Every season is a blessing.
Every day is a miracle.
LINES BY LIMING 