Secrets do not exists to my Father.
Even hell has no secrets from him.
I think about my son in one of those places unknown to me. A place I, myself, have chosen to stay separate from.
I would go there.
I would search that place, familiarize myself with every secret hidden there,
if it meant keeping those “secrets”, secret to him.
I would feel the pull of desperation.
I would breath the disease of addiction.
I would see what those secrets breed, and I would tell them back to him,
like stories of the boogie man keeping children safe from strangers.
And still, if he chose to go there,
I would know enough about that place, to find him there,
and bring him back again.
God has done that for me.
God is the “all knowing”,
all knowing of all secrets,
so then, they can remain “secrets” to me.
And, even then,
if I choose to uncover those secrets,
I know he knows enough,
to find me there,
And bring me back to him again.