I sit down to begin a lunch break essay, and think on wherein to sink my teeth when the thesis topic comes into my frame from on high – Blessed are we named Millenials. The moment I think this, I feel this, I look down and see not one but four pennies left behind for my finding. By Pennyfind Law, I know this instinct is powerful, this messaging right. It has been shown so – Blessed are we named Millenials.
Our God is many-faced and fluid. Challenging, he is understanding though we are not the same of him. She is judgmental and fierce, unsuffering of the bullshit accruation of the past. This tongue is slippery, forked, and rarely silent, but respecting when we plea ignorance. Our God waits for our growing, and it is we, we Millenials, for whom we are waiting. Our God awakens now in our socially shared self-actuation, and the limits blow away in dandelion seeds to the wind.
In the realization of the illusion, now aware of the story, we see the true nature of our world, our reality, in a life: everything is malleable, and we are the masters and makers.
What fear have we of Coronavirus, what fear have we of depression, of struggle, of war? We have known no life but chaos being mocked up as order, and watched our parents feel comfort in the lie. Who cares how long the lie, how far back it goes, a lie is a lie is a life.
Dawning soon are the days of truth empowered, nigh is the reckoning we all await. Blessed are we named Millenials, for we are reckoning’s face, and the mirror does us good kindness when we pass. Ours is the task of the light.