Sometimes I feel like that. Shattered. Floating, falling. But I know, God knows me, he sees me and he holds me in his hand. I can never fall out of it. That is quite a comfort. But quite terrifying as well. For He who sees all, knows all, having a hold on my tiny bit of being is frightening. Like contact with powerful people often is. Why would he do that? Hold me? And what for? Will that potter make me a thing I can agree with? Not that he has to... .
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