No one has everything, and certainly one cannot be without nothing.
Without is not what we start with, we pick it up along the way... It's an unusual state of affairs to be without to begin with. How tremendously blessed for one's needs to be met, to be respected and understood, to be at peace. One might plead that the blessed moment should never depart from here; where could it go, after all?
Is my heart not of yours, and yours not of mine? Where do I end and you begin, I wonder?
And so seemingly, without is what one may be willing to displace from within. Here, I am there!, I proclaim longingly!
I thank God for being for me, before me. In abundance of faith, the fleeting disposition is at rest.
Bring fresh berries, a ration of bitters – avoid oxblood, and live in love and the light of favor.