The room is white, a magnificent white. Everything is softened. There no edges, all is smooth. It’s less of a room and more of a space. An infinite space, having no beginning and no end. There is nothing compromising the light. No shadows, no shading. Just glowing white.

Peace. Calm. Safety.

There is but one thing in the space. Two beings. Him and her. Me. They sit, we sit, on the ground, crossed legged, knees touching. Face to face, eye to eye, they see one another. We see.

It’s both they and we because I see it in third person, as an onlooker. I don’t see it as the one looking into the eyes of Jesus. I know it’s me, but I see the outside perspective.

We join hands. The savior of the world sits with me, only me, and holds my hands in his. Beauty in its purest form.

We begin our meal together. Jesus takes the bread in his hands, and gives me my portion. As he shares, he says, ‘This is my body, broken for you.”

We eat.

And then the cup. “This is my blood, poured out for you.”

We drink.

She takes it all in, the love and adoration. I take it in. It is his love that provides the white glow of the space. And it is eternal. The togetherness never ends. Him and her, Him and I, together forever. And that is the beauty and majesty of this forever moment.