Compressing ineffable, immediate reality into meaning, I may articulate myself as experience. I may go on to reinterpret qualia as patterned activity and then systematize my grasp of that activity into the discipline of physics. With that base of understanding I can infer that existence comprises discrete streams of consciousness, of which I am one.

Streams span in experiential complexity from solitary atoms to entire nervous systems, making my elevation from commonplace matter into sapience an impossibly rare and significant privilege. Given all the possible ways in which the universe could have unfolded, the likelihood of that happening to me is vanishingly small.

There is a point at which someone must consider if their luck can be more rationally explained by something other than coincidence, and becoming human is a level of luck that far exceeds it. To truly make sense of my circumstances, I must posit that each stream perceives the world branch in which they come to fully experience God's love.

God is the transcendent source of being, making his potential and ability unrestricted by any conceivable limitation, definition, or framework. He is consequently unknowable, beyond not just comprehension but even the possibility of understanding. That said, I can sense his presence, and I know that he cares for me infinitely.

Often, I must remind myself that my misery is self-imposed. It is not imparted by external events, other people, or even my own shortcomings, but is instead my reaction to these things. I have the power to revoke this instinct, and until I do so, I will remain like a child—kicking and screaming in the arms of the Almighty.