Jesus has asked me into his heart.
His heart is infinite, and in it is every friend, every enemy, and every stranger.
His heart is alive with the green grass of a thousand rolling hills, the brightness of a thousand flickering suns, and it is beating with the very fabric of the universe.
His heart is alive with immeasurable grace, flowing from his pierced side like water from the temple.
His heart is alive, and the source of every song worth singing, every story worth telling, and every laugh worth sharing.
Jesus has asked me into his heart, and it is inside this infinite, living heart that we live, and move, and have our being.
It's better that way. I think he'd be cramped in mine.