I slept and it was well all things considered.
My thoughts are bleeding all over the place...hope...unrest...desire...longing...all these emotions, these thoughts, these feelings...they have names but they are not.
It's like the days flow...so well so overlapping...with transitions in all sorts of colors.
It's going to be a slower day...only one show and then painting some wheel chair ramps.
It should be slow but in a good way.
But some questions remain...
Where is this going?
How are You in this?
What about pain?
What about my friend?
It irks my beyond comprehension...that it doesn't seem that You hear the prayers being spoken for her...is this it? Someone without real knowledge of You? What does it take to motivate You to speak to someone?
I know things are complicated...but it hurts to see someone who doesn't know the Truth...and that you the Truth indeed.
It is true I doubt a lot and have little confidence...but God...I am Yours and You are mine...this impossible mixture of the divine courting and cultivating the love of a shallow and broken being.
"Soul, what's wrong?
Why are you troubled here within me?
Deep inside my heart, my soul, what's wrong?
So my God I do not see why You forgive me
Do You need me? Am I wise? Am I strong?
So Why, so why, so why, so why?
Why do You even love me?
Why do You even care?
Why should You think of me?
Oh my God, I'll never know. It's
Unconditional love, Unconditional love, Unconditional love,
The grace flood
Take my hand and lead me further up within here
Deep inside Your heart, With in your soul
On my knees as I crawl steady up the incline
The glory of Your face and I can't stand."
-The OC Supertones, "Grace Flood"
Help me to believe...to know...I feel so tired...so weak and shallow...help me to find this water I need...this fire to burn and keep me alive when I am stranded in this Wilderness...
...if you want a broken and needy heart...here it is...
I need to drink this water in as Life, I need the Logos present...the burning hope...something outside but in...You know how it is.
I try.
I fail.
I doubt.
I cry.
I hurt.
But then You are something more...somehow...beyond self...beyond life...this inexpressible...this impossibly wonderful...but still...You hide...why?
You bridge the gap between the possible and impossible...do it once again.
Please.
In a real way...save the life of the one I pray for...give mercy to my ungrateful heart...teach me to be humble...rip this apart.
Screw holding onto this fake dignity and the shame of being a born again hypocrite, living in this rotting shell for my life.
I don't care.
"The world is full of ones like me
Who need to see the truth
But the truth is never truth indeed
The truth is only you"
"The Word was first,
the Word present to God,
God present to the Word.
The Word was God,
in readiness for God from day one.
Everything was created through him;
nothing—not one thing!—
came into being without him.
What came into existence was Life,
and the Life was Light to live by.
The Life-Light blazed out of the darkness;
the darkness couldn't put it out.
There once was a man, his name John, sent by God to point out the way to the Life-Light. He came to show everyone where to look, who to believe in. John was not himself the Light; he was there to show the way to the Light.
The Life-Light was the real thing:
Every person entering Life
he brings into Light.
He was in the world,
the world was there through him,
and yet the world didn't even notice.
He came to his own people,
but they didn't want him.
But whoever did want him,
who believed he was who he claimed
and would do what he said,
He made to be their true selves,
their child-of-God selves.
These are the God-begotten,
not blood-begotten,
not flesh-begotten,
not sex-begotten.
The Word became flesh and blood,
and moved into the neighborhood.
We saw the glory with our own eyes,
the one-of-a-kind glory,
like Father, like Son,
Generous inside and out,
true from start to finish.
John pointed him out and called, "This is the One! The One I told you was coming after me but in fact was ahead of me. He has always been ahead of me, has always had the first word."
We all live off his generous bounty,
gift after gift after gift.
We got the basics from Moses,
and then this exuberant giving and receiving,
This endless knowing and understanding—
all this came through Jesus, the Messiah.
No one has ever seen God,
not so much as a glimpse.
This one-of-a-kind God-Expression,
who exists at the very heart of the Father,
has made him plain as day."
-John 1:1-18
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
On the Road
I've missed this feeling.
Waking up at the early hour, driving to some location that I have never seen.
The surreal feeling of waking up and seeing a different location...a different skyline then the limited view from my window.
The chatter of youth and the random videos on the screen are my background music.
Eating food I'll never taste again and seeing faces that will never be mine to see again.
Singing songs...born from this insipid force of the human spirit...aching and longing for a higher ground...a higher order...to push beyond the trappings of this flesh and touch the infintite...even if it is just for a fleeting moment.
Somehow You are here.
In the faces of the infirmed, the eldery and those who minds have long since left this world...You are there.
You are in the voices as we sing together, pushing against the impossible odds of this life.
You are there in my shyness and my dorky moments of social awkwardness.
You are in the hearts of these youth...who sing...wheter they realize the impossible bridge every note hopes to feel...YOU are there.
How do you capture so much in a single moment?
I wasn't intending on going on any trip.
Last night at midnight I got the call you sent from an old friend...and now...there are connections being formed in ways that only You could have predicted.
What is this?
Where are things going?
I didn't expect to see my old friend...for things to be so different...but still the same. Same old jokes, same old movie references, same biting humor...but a different heart...in ways.
What did You think when you crafted this day?
The stop off at Calera, the stop over at UAB and now in Huntsville...singing to the infirm and to the old...and soon for a church.
Where were Your thoughts at creation when You looked at time and saw me writing this?
How is this going?
Where am I going?
What are these offers?
These desperate longings of my heart?
Where am I going tomorrow?
I ask You again and again...where this pain...these paths will lead and You will not relent in silence...just that the next step is sufficient.
Seeing the face of the elderly today...seeing their faces creased with life and ravaged by age. Seeing those who have been handicapped for so many years, unable to speak in words we understood...where is this in Your plan? How do you make such things work for good?
Is it true ignorance is bliss? That the blue pill of Chyperism is true beyond the realm of digitalized code?
You heard our voices...was it pleasing?
Is my life anything worth keeping in Your hands?
I have so many questions with no answer from You...and it hurts.
We sing of love...Your word says Love...but where is it in silence?
I *cannot* live on words alone...just this bread...I need vitalizing water...my soul purged of this filth and filled with the Life, the Light that You have promised.
"Think straight. Awaken to the holiness of life. No more playing fast and loose with resurrection facts. Ignorance of God is a luxury you can't afford in times like these. Aren't you embarrassed that you've let this kind of thing go on as long as you have?"
-1 Corinthians 15:34
Waking up at the early hour, driving to some location that I have never seen.
The surreal feeling of waking up and seeing a different location...a different skyline then the limited view from my window.
The chatter of youth and the random videos on the screen are my background music.
Eating food I'll never taste again and seeing faces that will never be mine to see again.
Singing songs...born from this insipid force of the human spirit...aching and longing for a higher ground...a higher order...to push beyond the trappings of this flesh and touch the infintite...even if it is just for a fleeting moment.
Somehow You are here.
In the faces of the infirmed, the eldery and those who minds have long since left this world...You are there.
You are in the voices as we sing together, pushing against the impossible odds of this life.
You are there in my shyness and my dorky moments of social awkwardness.
You are in the hearts of these youth...who sing...wheter they realize the impossible bridge every note hopes to feel...YOU are there.
How do you capture so much in a single moment?
I wasn't intending on going on any trip.
Last night at midnight I got the call you sent from an old friend...and now...there are connections being formed in ways that only You could have predicted.
What is this?
Where are things going?
I didn't expect to see my old friend...for things to be so different...but still the same. Same old jokes, same old movie references, same biting humor...but a different heart...in ways.
What did You think when you crafted this day?
The stop off at Calera, the stop over at UAB and now in Huntsville...singing to the infirm and to the old...and soon for a church.
Where were Your thoughts at creation when You looked at time and saw me writing this?
How is this going?
Where am I going?
What are these offers?
These desperate longings of my heart?
Where am I going tomorrow?
I ask You again and again...where this pain...these paths will lead and You will not relent in silence...just that the next step is sufficient.
Seeing the face of the elderly today...seeing their faces creased with life and ravaged by age. Seeing those who have been handicapped for so many years, unable to speak in words we understood...where is this in Your plan? How do you make such things work for good?
Is it true ignorance is bliss? That the blue pill of Chyperism is true beyond the realm of digitalized code?
You heard our voices...was it pleasing?
Is my life anything worth keeping in Your hands?
I have so many questions with no answer from You...and it hurts.
We sing of love...Your word says Love...but where is it in silence?
I *cannot* live on words alone...just this bread...I need vitalizing water...my soul purged of this filth and filled with the Life, the Light that You have promised.
"Think straight. Awaken to the holiness of life. No more playing fast and loose with resurrection facts. Ignorance of God is a luxury you can't afford in times like these. Aren't you embarrassed that you've let this kind of thing go on as long as you have?"
-1 Corinthians 15:34
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Monday, June 15, 2009
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Red
Loosing my soul,
loosing my mind.
Everything I had
is just this pile of ash.
Nothing more and nevermore,
let this soul burn free
and simply explode.
Into your mind,
behind your eyes
pressing deep
not letting your heart beat skip
just long enough to see
and feel once again.
loosing my mind.
Everything I had
is just this pile of ash.
Nothing more and nevermore,
let this soul burn free
and simply explode.
Into your mind,
behind your eyes
pressing deep
not letting your heart beat skip
just long enough to see
and feel once again.
"Space Robot 5" - Brave Saint Saturn
So far, so good, or so they say from mission control,
The deep of space is no place for a fragile human soul.
The rockets burn as servos click and turn,
and fall into their place.
Robots can't cry,
don't laugh,
can't die,
In the darkness of space.
He is strong, made of steel with the graphite lining,
Watch his eyes flicker slow like the batteries are dying.
Space Robot 5,
Is he alive?
So very alone,
So far from home.
Three strands of wire,
Threefold the tie that binds.
She is the one thing on the earth for which he still pines.
To his heart she was life,
So he prays to his Maker with a sigh,
As his fire sputters out,
Because robots never cry.
Space Robot 5,
Is he alive?
So very alone,
So far from home.
The deep of space is no place for a fragile human soul.
The rockets burn as servos click and turn,
and fall into their place.
Robots can't cry,
don't laugh,
can't die,
In the darkness of space.
He is strong, made of steel with the graphite lining,
Watch his eyes flicker slow like the batteries are dying.
Space Robot 5,
Is he alive?
So very alone,
So far from home.
Three strands of wire,
Threefold the tie that binds.
She is the one thing on the earth for which he still pines.
To his heart she was life,
So he prays to his Maker with a sigh,
As his fire sputters out,
Because robots never cry.
Space Robot 5,
Is he alive?
So very alone,
So far from home.
"No reason to get excited, the thief kindly spoke..."
Another morning...another day.
Annoying ticking that never ceases.
It was nice to be somewhere this morning and to feel apart of something outside of myself...I guess it's because we have this silly notion of the need of utter self sufficiency...when no one can make it own their own.
Just another sad song in an endless stack of tired ballads that Dylan wouldn't even touch.
What is this longing?
Deeper than life?
Hotter than flame?
Merest inklings of another world pressing deep and in such an uncomfortable way that it sets people on the defensive...and that is when it is when thoughts concern it are properly executed.
People speak of the infinite in such finite terms that they do not begin to grasp what the think they are sensing. I am no different from my predecessors who were nothing more than stumbling blocks preventing people from knowing that Veritas, that ἀλήθεια is truly You.
Everything and nothing...summarized in such a way that it underscore the beautiful horror.
Absolutes so vivid that they reduce human based understanding to the base animalistic core that everyone is content to reside at.
"What then is truth? A movable host of metaphors, metonymies, and; anthropomorphisms: in short, a sum of human relations which have been poetically and rhetorically intensified, transferred, and embellished, and which, after long usage, seem to a people to be fixed, canonical, and binding."
-Friedrich Nietzsche
"I am made of parts that freeze and ligaments that atrophy
Though they look they’ll never see
They don’t know something’s wrong with me
And just as well, I’ll never tell what’s underneath the scales
I’ve worn to thin to honor you, my every effort fails
So bury me with Israel and cover up my tracks
Leave not a trace of what I was, I’m never coming back
And if you’re mercy falls upon he whose blood is cold
Unearth me with your hands of love and never break your hold"
-Showbread
Annoying ticking that never ceases.
It was nice to be somewhere this morning and to feel apart of something outside of myself...I guess it's because we have this silly notion of the need of utter self sufficiency...when no one can make it own their own.
Just another sad song in an endless stack of tired ballads that Dylan wouldn't even touch.
What is this longing?
Deeper than life?
Hotter than flame?
Merest inklings of another world pressing deep and in such an uncomfortable way that it sets people on the defensive...and that is when it is when thoughts concern it are properly executed.
People speak of the infinite in such finite terms that they do not begin to grasp what the think they are sensing. I am no different from my predecessors who were nothing more than stumbling blocks preventing people from knowing that Veritas, that ἀλήθεια is truly You.
Everything and nothing...summarized in such a way that it underscore the beautiful horror.
Absolutes so vivid that they reduce human based understanding to the base animalistic core that everyone is content to reside at.
"What then is truth? A movable host of metaphors, metonymies, and; anthropomorphisms: in short, a sum of human relations which have been poetically and rhetorically intensified, transferred, and embellished, and which, after long usage, seem to a people to be fixed, canonical, and binding."
-Friedrich Nietzsche
"I am made of parts that freeze and ligaments that atrophy
Though they look they’ll never see
They don’t know something’s wrong with me
And just as well, I’ll never tell what’s underneath the scales
I’ve worn to thin to honor you, my every effort fails
So bury me with Israel and cover up my tracks
Leave not a trace of what I was, I’m never coming back
And if you’re mercy falls upon he whose blood is cold
Unearth me with your hands of love and never break your hold"
-Showbread
Saturday, June 13, 2009
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
