"While he [Jesus] lived on earth, anticipating death, Jesus cried out in pain and wept in sorrow as he offered up priestly prayers to God. Because he honored God, God answered him. Though he was God's Son, he learned trusting-obedience by what he suffered, just as we do."
Heb 5:7
"Anyone who claims to be intimate with God ought to live the same kind of life Jesus lived."
I John 2:6
"...he [Jesus] humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death, even death on the cross."
Phil 2:8
These scriptures, plus a few more, are transforming my thinking. They are taking what I used to think and not totally getting rid of it, but moving it aside.
"live the same kind of life Jesus lived"
That life looks like a man who looks not only to his own interests, but more importantly others. It is serving. It is hearing and obeying. Knowing that we are lower than angels, saved by the works and hand of God and living a not-my-will-but-yours life. Sounds like self-sacrifice? It isn't. It is hearing and obeying. That might include self-sacrifice, but it is not the core.
Jesus knew where He came from. He knew where He was going. He knew His Father had put all things in His hands. His identity was firmly in place. That enabled him to be humble. He humbled Himself knowing that the Father works all things for good. He suffered in order to be taught "trusting-obedience", the Son of God did that. Why? Because we are taught trusting-obedience through suffering. Why? So that we can be sons of God. That is our identity. We are born from heaven now. We are heavenly people; our home is heaven. Through Jesus our God-who-can-identifies-with-us, we are joint heirs.
God the Father is calling us to Himself. This does require taking up the cross. The cross can mean self-sacrifice, but it means "hearing and obeying" inclusively.
So, when you find yourself flagging in your faith, go over the story of Jesus' suffering and death and resurrection, item by item, the long litany of hostility he endured. That will shoot adrenaline into your souls and cause you to soar with faith. So, endure the cross for the joy set before you.
And if you want to know God intimately...live as Jesus lived.
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
Thursday, May 24, 2007
My Heart
Well...
Here it is and that's where it stays,
A hard stone heart, cold as it lays
in the middle of His palm it desires to beat again
but the life in the blood appears to be at its end.
The cry of the heart is weak and its cracked
For it hasn't been washed and the layers are stacked,
Layers of times of Pride and of Doubt
Where the heart heard the voice but never turned around.
And as its still and life almost gone,
The hard stone heart looks at what its done.
Trying to cry but no tears will flow
It strains to hear the rooster crow.
A chance to see where its gone wrong
Or to turn and believe, its chances might be gone.
From dried cracked lips, the heart begins to sing
Gratitude and thanks for the little life that still beats.
He wants the hand that holds him, to break Him apart
For maybe in pieces, he'll be a better heart.
He's heard of healing hands that puts hearts together again
"What's going on?" he moans, and confusion sets in.
A piercing crow splits his side
And tears begin to flow as he lays there and cries
He sees what he's done, and thats all he sees
He hates what he was, and from it to be free
The hand brings the heart close to His face;
The poor broken heart can not bear his pain.
He falls apart, blood softening the hard.
Surrendering, he is washed.
Here it is and that's where it stays,
Pieces of the heart in hands blood-stained.
The hands enclose over it, sealing the heart
It will be used to revive others who, once cold and hard, have broken apart.
November 2006
Here it is and that's where it stays,
A hard stone heart, cold as it lays
in the middle of His palm it desires to beat again
but the life in the blood appears to be at its end.
The cry of the heart is weak and its cracked
For it hasn't been washed and the layers are stacked,
Layers of times of Pride and of Doubt
Where the heart heard the voice but never turned around.
And as its still and life almost gone,
The hard stone heart looks at what its done.
Trying to cry but no tears will flow
It strains to hear the rooster crow.
A chance to see where its gone wrong
Or to turn and believe, its chances might be gone.
From dried cracked lips, the heart begins to sing
Gratitude and thanks for the little life that still beats.
He wants the hand that holds him, to break Him apart
For maybe in pieces, he'll be a better heart.
He's heard of healing hands that puts hearts together again
"What's going on?" he moans, and confusion sets in.
A piercing crow splits his side
And tears begin to flow as he lays there and cries
He sees what he's done, and thats all he sees
He hates what he was, and from it to be free
The hand brings the heart close to His face;
The poor broken heart can not bear his pain.
He falls apart, blood softening the hard.
Surrendering, he is washed.
Here it is and that's where it stays,
Pieces of the heart in hands blood-stained.
The hands enclose over it, sealing the heart
It will be used to revive others who, once cold and hard, have broken apart.
November 2006
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
HOLY
There stands in a moment of time, in split second of a finger twitch, decisions that foreshadow eternity. Even though it is impossible to foreshadow something that is. The best way for people to understand things is through analogies and parallels to what they know. We need something to measure, whatever we are trying to understand, against. Some sort of standard in our mind that will bring us closer to the revelation we seek. That is why stories with morals, and parables with an underlying meaning, and metaphors and similes are so vital to the human.
We can not understand start to understand love until we say, "It is like the way of a lioness with her cubs." Or "It is the way of a man with a maiden." The only problem is, in trying to understand it through this standard, we confine it. Love is not only protection and providing nor is it only romantic. The truest thing we can say is, "It is." We have neither created love nor can we destroy it. We find ourselves caught up in it and acting out of it, but we have no comprehension of what it truly is. All there is to say is, if you try to describe it through a line, this end is love and this end is hate, then it is above the line, around the line, where it can not be pin pointed. If you try to put boundaries around it, as you would fence in a dog, then it is not even on the ground but in the air, and who can place boundaries on air?
It is not a balance you have to attain and maintain. It is set apart from it. It is not something that you can say, "Here it is!" or "There it is!" It is among you, within you.
Full of mystery and completely open and vulnerable, dwell together without complaint, naturally. A sovereign ruler who gives his subjects freedom to choose is no paradox, only the way it is. Absolute and abstract compliment each other, while 'servant', 'friend', 'child', 'sheep', and 'priest' describe the relationship with the Creator.
It is like this because He is like this. He is a person while being like the wind. He is outside of the limitations of time while inside of them. Creating everything from math to animals to chemistry to logic. He is external from everything he created. Yet He is involved in every little process of it. Holy. He is Holy. He is good and he has no nemesis.
Evil is trivial. He hates it because it tries to exalt itself against the knowledge of Him. Evil has blanketed the eyes of people, veiling them from His true character and nature. Everything he created is yearning and longing for the day when He will redeem it. It yearns and groans for that day like a woman in labor, crying out for Him. The only part of His creation that was not crying out for Him were the people, the very ones whom He created in His image, in His very likeness.
Jesus. The Son. He became our evil. He became judged and condemned for our pride, our wickedness. He took the fear out of death by becoming our sin, and he took the power away from the sin by removing the law, the moral standard. Now, whoever believes in Him is under God saying that we are not born of the world anymore, we are holy as he is. We are born of God.
He has taken us and given us what we don't deserve. Grace. He tells us to walk in it, that He has placed Himself inside of us. He wants us to be witnesses of His glory and nature. He wants us to know Him as a Father, a Friend, a King, a Shepard, the God. Not saying "This is what it is!" or "That is what it is!" but in a relationship. He will invade this place and the earth shall be filled with the knowledge of the glory of the Lord. Be filled with his Spirit. Bless you as you walk in His anointing.
We can not understand start to understand love until we say, "It is like the way of a lioness with her cubs." Or "It is the way of a man with a maiden." The only problem is, in trying to understand it through this standard, we confine it. Love is not only protection and providing nor is it only romantic. The truest thing we can say is, "It is." We have neither created love nor can we destroy it. We find ourselves caught up in it and acting out of it, but we have no comprehension of what it truly is. All there is to say is, if you try to describe it through a line, this end is love and this end is hate, then it is above the line, around the line, where it can not be pin pointed. If you try to put boundaries around it, as you would fence in a dog, then it is not even on the ground but in the air, and who can place boundaries on air?
It is not a balance you have to attain and maintain. It is set apart from it. It is not something that you can say, "Here it is!" or "There it is!" It is among you, within you.
Full of mystery and completely open and vulnerable, dwell together without complaint, naturally. A sovereign ruler who gives his subjects freedom to choose is no paradox, only the way it is. Absolute and abstract compliment each other, while 'servant', 'friend', 'child', 'sheep', and 'priest' describe the relationship with the Creator.
It is like this because He is like this. He is a person while being like the wind. He is outside of the limitations of time while inside of them. Creating everything from math to animals to chemistry to logic. He is external from everything he created. Yet He is involved in every little process of it. Holy. He is Holy. He is good and he has no nemesis.
Evil is trivial. He hates it because it tries to exalt itself against the knowledge of Him. Evil has blanketed the eyes of people, veiling them from His true character and nature. Everything he created is yearning and longing for the day when He will redeem it. It yearns and groans for that day like a woman in labor, crying out for Him. The only part of His creation that was not crying out for Him were the people, the very ones whom He created in His image, in His very likeness.
Jesus. The Son. He became our evil. He became judged and condemned for our pride, our wickedness. He took the fear out of death by becoming our sin, and he took the power away from the sin by removing the law, the moral standard. Now, whoever believes in Him is under God saying that we are not born of the world anymore, we are holy as he is. We are born of God.
He has taken us and given us what we don't deserve. Grace. He tells us to walk in it, that He has placed Himself inside of us. He wants us to be witnesses of His glory and nature. He wants us to know Him as a Father, a Friend, a King, a Shepard, the God. Not saying "This is what it is!" or "That is what it is!" but in a relationship. He will invade this place and the earth shall be filled with the knowledge of the glory of the Lord. Be filled with his Spirit. Bless you as you walk in His anointing.
Thursday, May 17, 2007
Is the core of the Christian life self-sacrifice?
Dying to your own desires and serving and living for God and others?
No and Yes.
The very center of Christianity is Christ. He is the center and everything encompassing it. He is the core. In Him is all the supremacy. The world was made by Him. For Him. Through Him. Jesus, the Son of God, calls us to Himself. He is the mirror of God's Glory, representing the Father God exactly. The very image of God. He holds the universe together by the power of His word. He became incarnated. The Word made flesh. God becoming human. Fully human and fully God. He endured the cross for the joy set before Him. If we say we are Christians, we should walk as Jesus did. He is our model.
He calls us to Himself. It is His voice that we are practicing to hear. The voice that speaks the words that sustains the universe. He calls us to life...abundant. He gives us joy and sets it before us and it is for this that we endure the cross, the suffering of everyday life that we face.
I will write more on that question. Right now I would say self-sacrifice is not the core of Christianity. If it were, the monks of old who secluded themselves from society and beat themselves in order to be holy were the purest Christians for the denied from their self many pleasures. No, it has to be something more.
Dying to your own desires and serving and living for God and others?
No and Yes.
The very center of Christianity is Christ. He is the center and everything encompassing it. He is the core. In Him is all the supremacy. The world was made by Him. For Him. Through Him. Jesus, the Son of God, calls us to Himself. He is the mirror of God's Glory, representing the Father God exactly. The very image of God. He holds the universe together by the power of His word. He became incarnated. The Word made flesh. God becoming human. Fully human and fully God. He endured the cross for the joy set before Him. If we say we are Christians, we should walk as Jesus did. He is our model.
He calls us to Himself. It is His voice that we are practicing to hear. The voice that speaks the words that sustains the universe. He calls us to life...abundant. He gives us joy and sets it before us and it is for this that we endure the cross, the suffering of everyday life that we face.
I will write more on that question. Right now I would say self-sacrifice is not the core of Christianity. If it were, the monks of old who secluded themselves from society and beat themselves in order to be holy were the purest Christians for the denied from their self many pleasures. No, it has to be something more.
Tuesday, May 01, 2007
The 9th Symphony of the String
There is this string in the middle of a field. I saw it one day hanging down from the sky, connected to nothing, it had no end. I left it alone for maybe I thought the sky would fall and the world I lived in would be done. I came back to this string on the day after yesterday, and it seemed to speak an unheard mystery. There it hung, to nothing it clung, and so my curiosity got the best of me as my hand sought the story of the unsung.
There are no pictures to show what I saw. My hand reached out grabbing the string and my mind connected to everything, it all poured in. I left the ground and started to soar my clothes they fell and and a world is born. I wonder who else has come to this string and experienced this mystery and if it was the same. It might be a dream, thats what it would seem, but an ordinary dream is just like steam for you see it and then it rapidly flees.
There is this string in the middle of a field. I saw it one day hanging down from the sky, connected to nothing, it had no end. I can not say, for one reason or another, exactly what happens in the midst of it all, but until you reach out to take this string your soul will dream, and life will be an unheard mystery. So there it stays, even til this day, waiting for a soul to take a hold and live the unsung story for which they were made.
There are no pictures to show what I saw. My hand reached out grabbing the string and my mind connected to everything, it all poured in. I left the ground and started to soar my clothes they fell and and a world is born. I wonder who else has come to this string and experienced this mystery and if it was the same. It might be a dream, thats what it would seem, but an ordinary dream is just like steam for you see it and then it rapidly flees.
There is this string in the middle of a field. I saw it one day hanging down from the sky, connected to nothing, it had no end. I can not say, for one reason or another, exactly what happens in the midst of it all, but until you reach out to take this string your soul will dream, and life will be an unheard mystery. So there it stays, even til this day, waiting for a soul to take a hold and live the unsung story for which they were made.
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Not there yet
"According to my earnest expectation and hope that in nothing I shall be ashamed, but with all boldness, as always, so now also Christ will be magnified in my body, whether by life or by death."
"Not that I have already attained, or am already perfected; but I press on, that I may lay hold of that for which Christ Jesus has also laid hold of me."
One thing that I have not understood, and now only barely understand, is why Paul always said that he had not yet attained it. Faith takes the hope and we walk as though we are there, as if we have attained it. But if we think we are already pure and in heaven we would be living in a false reality. We are still on earth. We live earnestly expecting what is to come. He desired and expected that he would not be ashamed in anything. Nothing. But on the contrary, with boldness that Christ would be made manifest through him, his life, whether he lived or died. Paul's deepest desire was Christ and heaven. He clung to these. He set his heart, everything he did, on winning Christ and being found in Him. He knew that his home was heaven.
He did not strive for righteousness, for Christ is our righteousness. He strove to know Christ. To know his righteousness. This does not remove us from reality, it only enables us to live in it with a sense of eternity. Our lives manifesting Christ, because He is all and is in all.
"Not that I have already attained, or am already perfected; but I press on, that I may lay hold of that for which Christ Jesus has also laid hold of me."
One thing that I have not understood, and now only barely understand, is why Paul always said that he had not yet attained it. Faith takes the hope and we walk as though we are there, as if we have attained it. But if we think we are already pure and in heaven we would be living in a false reality. We are still on earth. We live earnestly expecting what is to come. He desired and expected that he would not be ashamed in anything. Nothing. But on the contrary, with boldness that Christ would be made manifest through him, his life, whether he lived or died. Paul's deepest desire was Christ and heaven. He clung to these. He set his heart, everything he did, on winning Christ and being found in Him. He knew that his home was heaven.
He did not strive for righteousness, for Christ is our righteousness. He strove to know Christ. To know his righteousness. This does not remove us from reality, it only enables us to live in it with a sense of eternity. Our lives manifesting Christ, because He is all and is in all.
Sunday, March 18, 2007
We don't even know
There stands in a moment of time, in split second of a finger twitch, decisions that foreshadow eternity. Even though it is impossible to foreshadow something that is. The best way for people to understand things is through analogies and parallels to what they know. We need something to measure, whatever we are trying to understand, against. Some sort of standard in our mind that will bring us closer to the revelation we seek. That is why stories with morals, and parables with an underlying meaning, and metaphors and similes are so vital to the human.
We can not understand start to understand love until we say, "It is like the way of a lioness with her cubs." Or "It is the way of a man with a maiden." The only problem is, in trying to understand it through this standard, we confine it. Love is not only protection and providing nor is it only romantic. The truest thing we can say is, "It is." We have neither created love nor can we destroy it. We find ourselves caught up in it and acting out of it, but we have no comprehension of what it truly is. All there is to say is, if you try to describe it through a line, this end is love and this end is hate, then it is above the line, around the line, where it can not be pin pointed. If you try to put boundaries around it, as you would fence in a dog, then it is not even on the ground but in the air, and who can place boundaries on air?
It is not a balance you have to attain and maintain. It is set apart from it. It is not something that you can say, "Here it is!" or "There it is!" It is among you, within you.
Full of mystery and completely open and vulnerable, dwell together without complaint, naturally. A sovereign ruler who gives his subjects freedom to choose is no paradox, only the way it is. Absolute and abstract compliment each other, while 'servant', 'friend', 'child', 'sheep', and 'priest' describe the relationship with the Creator.
It is like this because He is like this. He is a person while being like the wind. He is outside of the limitations of time while inside of them. Creating everything from math to animals to chemistry to logic. He is external from everything he created. Yet He is involved in every little process of it. Holy. He is Holy. He is good and he has no nemesis.
Evil is trivial. He hates it because it tries to exalt itself against the knowledge of Him. Evil has blanketed the eyes of people, veiling them from His true character and nature. Everything he created is yearning and longing for the day when He will redeem it. It yearns and groans for that day like a woman in labor, crying out for Him. The only part of His creation that was not crying out for Him were the people, the very ones whom He created in His image, in His very likeness.
Jesus. The Son. He became our evil. He became judged and condemned for our pride, our wickedness. He took the fear out of death by becoming our sin, and he took the power away from the sin by removing the law, the moral standard. Now, whoever believes in Him is under God saying that we are not born of the world anymore, we are holy as he is. We are born of God.
He has taken us and given us what we don't deserve. Grace. He tells us to walk in it, that He has placed Himself inside of us. He wants us to be witnesses of His glory and nature. He wants us to know Him as a Father, a Friend, a King, a Shepard, the God. Not saying "This is what it is!" or "That is what it is!" but in a relationship. He will invade this place and the earth shall be filled with the knowledge of the glory of the Lord. Be filled with his Spirit. Bless you as you walk in His anointing.
We can not understand start to understand love until we say, "It is like the way of a lioness with her cubs." Or "It is the way of a man with a maiden." The only problem is, in trying to understand it through this standard, we confine it. Love is not only protection and providing nor is it only romantic. The truest thing we can say is, "It is." We have neither created love nor can we destroy it. We find ourselves caught up in it and acting out of it, but we have no comprehension of what it truly is. All there is to say is, if you try to describe it through a line, this end is love and this end is hate, then it is above the line, around the line, where it can not be pin pointed. If you try to put boundaries around it, as you would fence in a dog, then it is not even on the ground but in the air, and who can place boundaries on air?
It is not a balance you have to attain and maintain. It is set apart from it. It is not something that you can say, "Here it is!" or "There it is!" It is among you, within you.
Full of mystery and completely open and vulnerable, dwell together without complaint, naturally. A sovereign ruler who gives his subjects freedom to choose is no paradox, only the way it is. Absolute and abstract compliment each other, while 'servant', 'friend', 'child', 'sheep', and 'priest' describe the relationship with the Creator.
It is like this because He is like this. He is a person while being like the wind. He is outside of the limitations of time while inside of them. Creating everything from math to animals to chemistry to logic. He is external from everything he created. Yet He is involved in every little process of it. Holy. He is Holy. He is good and he has no nemesis.
Evil is trivial. He hates it because it tries to exalt itself against the knowledge of Him. Evil has blanketed the eyes of people, veiling them from His true character and nature. Everything he created is yearning and longing for the day when He will redeem it. It yearns and groans for that day like a woman in labor, crying out for Him. The only part of His creation that was not crying out for Him were the people, the very ones whom He created in His image, in His very likeness.
Jesus. The Son. He became our evil. He became judged and condemned for our pride, our wickedness. He took the fear out of death by becoming our sin, and he took the power away from the sin by removing the law, the moral standard. Now, whoever believes in Him is under God saying that we are not born of the world anymore, we are holy as he is. We are born of God.
He has taken us and given us what we don't deserve. Grace. He tells us to walk in it, that He has placed Himself inside of us. He wants us to be witnesses of His glory and nature. He wants us to know Him as a Father, a Friend, a King, a Shepard, the God. Not saying "This is what it is!" or "That is what it is!" but in a relationship. He will invade this place and the earth shall be filled with the knowledge of the glory of the Lord. Be filled with his Spirit. Bless you as you walk in His anointing.
Friday, March 02, 2007
A Beginning II
It was not that they were just living a new fad or a vapor of an idea, no, it was definitely more. A revolution of non-conformity and of life. A revolution to step out of the darkness of oppression and into the light of freedom. What they had seen, what they had been given, no one could take it away. They experienced freedom first hand, and after it is tasted there is no going back to the chains. Enduring beatings and being on the verge of death, yet not retaliating in the manner one would expect. They did not fight back with violence or even peace marches. They tore down the strongholds of the mind, tearing away from their enemies grasp precious lives. They watched as fathers turned on their sons, and sons turned on their fathers because of this freedom. It caused pain beyond belief to them, but when someone is in the dark, the light hurts their eyes, and if they are unable to get past this initial pain, then they get angry at the light instead of waiting to see what it reveals. The leaders had seen themselves get caught up in this movement of freedom that had been a river rushing long before they came along. They were placed there to bring more into that river. And they did. They watched as community grew and in the midst of a person forced from his family because of the contrast of dark and light, that person, once in the brilliance, found a new family. A family bound by the love of freedom and therefore, almost unbreakable. And so, there they were; united and moving as in one fluid motion, unconcious of their differences, aware only of their similarity: they were free.
Soon more and more came into this freedom, this nation, that is absent of any government here, because the ruling authority has to be the one that feeds the river, the one that is the source of the light for that only makes sense. As more came into this nation, the fighting and beatings became scarce but problems within the people grew. Divisions within themselves. Some wanted to rule themselves, or they would make up stories just trying to get people away from freedom in order to have their own following. The aspect of unity and working and moving as one begin to slip leak and drain leaving dry tempers and wrong ideas. Such a shot of urgency and fear for the people that must have gone through the leaders. The people who had just stepped into this freedom of light, this nation of God, were already going off on their own separate paths, taking up anything that suited their sudden impulses, not living as though they were in freedom, but in chains again. It was not something that the leaders had put together or concocted, it was set in motion before they were even alive. Somehow, they had been appointed to tap into it and see it rush out over people, this water of freedom. They had to nip the ingnorance and apathy in the bud before people gave their freedom away. They cared and loved this people far too much to let them stand separate and weak rather than together and full of life.
So they wrote. They wrote to each community reminding them of what they first believed. Reminding them that the freedom they had stepped into was not cheap, but was worth every part of them working together. They started from the beginning and went down the steps of time showing the validity and the truth, and uncovering the deceptions and lies. They wrote to show that the lives they were living were not in vain, but were storing up rewards where people can not steal it. That the more they went out the more the source of light drove away darkness and the more people stepped into freedom. Then the people remembered, and they were reminded of their mission, of their purpose. And they stopped trying to clamor out of the river and run from the light, and all of them jumped in and stood not hiding anything. The let the water rush over them and the light search them. They allowed freedom to permeate their being and bring them into a family, because the bond of a family is stronger than the bond of one hundred steel ties.
Soon more and more came into this freedom, this nation, that is absent of any government here, because the ruling authority has to be the one that feeds the river, the one that is the source of the light for that only makes sense. As more came into this nation, the fighting and beatings became scarce but problems within the people grew. Divisions within themselves. Some wanted to rule themselves, or they would make up stories just trying to get people away from freedom in order to have their own following. The aspect of unity and working and moving as one begin to slip leak and drain leaving dry tempers and wrong ideas. Such a shot of urgency and fear for the people that must have gone through the leaders. The people who had just stepped into this freedom of light, this nation of God, were already going off on their own separate paths, taking up anything that suited their sudden impulses, not living as though they were in freedom, but in chains again. It was not something that the leaders had put together or concocted, it was set in motion before they were even alive. Somehow, they had been appointed to tap into it and see it rush out over people, this water of freedom. They had to nip the ingnorance and apathy in the bud before people gave their freedom away. They cared and loved this people far too much to let them stand separate and weak rather than together and full of life.
So they wrote. They wrote to each community reminding them of what they first believed. Reminding them that the freedom they had stepped into was not cheap, but was worth every part of them working together. They started from the beginning and went down the steps of time showing the validity and the truth, and uncovering the deceptions and lies. They wrote to show that the lives they were living were not in vain, but were storing up rewards where people can not steal it. That the more they went out the more the source of light drove away darkness and the more people stepped into freedom. Then the people remembered, and they were reminded of their mission, of their purpose. And they stopped trying to clamor out of the river and run from the light, and all of them jumped in and stood not hiding anything. The let the water rush over them and the light search them. They allowed freedom to permeate their being and bring them into a family, because the bond of a family is stronger than the bond of one hundred steel ties.
Thursday, March 01, 2007
A Beginning
They had fought and risked their lives, their families lives, for the ideals of freedom and equality. Tearing away from the grasp of a strangling and suffocating iron hand that ruled without care or consideration. Fathers had lost their sons, and sons had watched their fathers die. Children had been torn away from their mothers. They had endured seasons of scarcity and hunger; times of bitter cold with hardly a shawl draped over their tired shoulders. Overcoming the mass differences and prejudices, they had managed to unite a people to fight and to see the vision of a nation, one nation, moving and breathing as one organism standing and fighting for the same ideals they were fighting.
After the shedding of blood had ceased and they were able to severe the hand away from around their young neck, new struggles began. With an unstable government put in place, the people with many differences began to think that it would be better if they were rulers over themselves, besides each of them were different. What a pang of fear and urgency there must have been among the leaders who had seen these people unite to fight off Britain, who had seen the potential of greatness that lay here in the people and in the land. Then to see it all crumble before their eyes, they could not let it happen. They believed too deeply in the values and ideals they had fought for and brought others to fight for. They knew that if they could not pull the people together now, under one vision and purpose, the lives given in that war, in that revolution, would have been in vain. Brought to nothing. They cared and loved this land and the people far too much to let them stand separate and weak rather than together and full of life.
So a few of them began to write. Why did they write and not gather big public speeches? Their writing could not be lost in the air after it was conceived. Their writing could grab hold of minds and reason with them and guide them back to the vision, to the hope, to something better than what has been before. They wrote and defended their values again. They started over and got the people to focus on what matters, on why they were in this land and why they had fought that war, it was a revolution. A revolution of non-conformity and of life. A revolution to step out of the darkness of oppression and into the light of freedom. Then the people remembered, and they were reminded of their mission. They came together because one stick can be broken easily, but when you bind 13 sticks or 30, or even 50 sticks together, it is impossible to break them.
After the shedding of blood had ceased and they were able to severe the hand away from around their young neck, new struggles began. With an unstable government put in place, the people with many differences began to think that it would be better if they were rulers over themselves, besides each of them were different. What a pang of fear and urgency there must have been among the leaders who had seen these people unite to fight off Britain, who had seen the potential of greatness that lay here in the people and in the land. Then to see it all crumble before their eyes, they could not let it happen. They believed too deeply in the values and ideals they had fought for and brought others to fight for. They knew that if they could not pull the people together now, under one vision and purpose, the lives given in that war, in that revolution, would have been in vain. Brought to nothing. They cared and loved this land and the people far too much to let them stand separate and weak rather than together and full of life.
So a few of them began to write. Why did they write and not gather big public speeches? Their writing could not be lost in the air after it was conceived. Their writing could grab hold of minds and reason with them and guide them back to the vision, to the hope, to something better than what has been before. They wrote and defended their values again. They started over and got the people to focus on what matters, on why they were in this land and why they had fought that war, it was a revolution. A revolution of non-conformity and of life. A revolution to step out of the darkness of oppression and into the light of freedom. Then the people remembered, and they were reminded of their mission. They came together because one stick can be broken easily, but when you bind 13 sticks or 30, or even 50 sticks together, it is impossible to break them.
Monday, October 30, 2006
Hope Deferred
There was a day. The sun was hidden by dark clouds, causing a shadow to fall and the air to become chilled.
There was a man. The lines on his face told of joy long gone, and the look in his eyes showed an emptiness that is left when hope is lost.
There was an army. The tattered flags, waving to a glory once known, were held by weary footmen whose heads hung low, they only stood, for they knew not where to go.
There was an enemy. Speaking with the air of royalty, he would disarm many, but his empty words, lulling the army into ease, drain their courage and comradity.
There was a fight. Against the air it seems they swing, but with a closer look one sees, each man fought himself, they were worn and wanton, bleeding and broken, confused by the words their enemy had spoken.
There was hope. Like the dawn of a new morning, but as each minute passed, the light of day turned to gray until there was no difference, as if the sun was delayed somewheres else, caught in a trance.
A stirring of the sand causes the armies heads to lift. A wind has emerged, rushing into the vacuum created by the emptiness. The wind steadily gathers force until it is roaring as a thundering sea of angry lions. Yet there is no maliciousness found in the wind. The man uncovers his ears and stands up straight, his chin is lifted and the look of strength is in his eyes. The sand whirls about him and lashes at his face, but the wind pours into his nostrils filling his chest and pounding through his veins. He tightens his fists and feels his strength. He reaches up and touches his face. The rough sand has made it smooth. He looks around. The army, which had fallen at the start of the wind, are all risen again. The wind settles down, but they can still feel it surging them. Looking around them they see their enemy, standing in the midst of them beginning to speak again. As if they were one man, they slay him and rid themselves of his remains. Then, as one, they glance towards the east for a light, breaking through the dark clouds, is burning; and it burns into their souls a hope, not man's hope, but one that, like the sun, rages steadily and perseveringly.
Thursday, October 12, 2006
Day Dos
Today was a day just like any other.
I am in the midst of writing songs so that I can record them later with a friend of mine. Songs are so important to people. Music, rather, which is the umbrella, is important to us all. Everyone carries a tune inside of their hearts, and artists are the ones who can produce the tune that's in their heart in a way that others can relate to. Someone once said, "Music is not meant to be harmless." It is meant to stir up a certain feeling or intuition of some kind; to start someone thinking al0ng a certain pattern of thoughts; to be a zip line that they can grab onto and find themselves rushed through a valley that they have been through but have been unable to express. Those are the artists that I admire. The ones that see a different perspective and find the common voice, be it in suffering or rejoicing, and can conjure a melody and words to unite people who can stand alongside of them and sing with them. There is a tune, a melody, inside all of our souls and the ones you come into contact with can blend perfectly with it and create an incredible harmony. Then before you know it you are caught up in a community that resounds and acts like a well orchestrated symphony and everyone playing the piece "Ode to Love", which is the music all of our hearts yearn to play and master.
If we, who are human, can feel love and give love, then imagine how much God, who is Love, imagine the depth of his feeling or the eternality of his giving.
Knowing God is finding that instrument of your heart reverberates throughout your being when you catch a glimpse of Him.
I am in the midst of writing songs so that I can record them later with a friend of mine. Songs are so important to people. Music, rather, which is the umbrella, is important to us all. Everyone carries a tune inside of their hearts, and artists are the ones who can produce the tune that's in their heart in a way that others can relate to. Someone once said, "Music is not meant to be harmless." It is meant to stir up a certain feeling or intuition of some kind; to start someone thinking al0ng a certain pattern of thoughts; to be a zip line that they can grab onto and find themselves rushed through a valley that they have been through but have been unable to express. Those are the artists that I admire. The ones that see a different perspective and find the common voice, be it in suffering or rejoicing, and can conjure a melody and words to unite people who can stand alongside of them and sing with them. There is a tune, a melody, inside all of our souls and the ones you come into contact with can blend perfectly with it and create an incredible harmony. Then before you know it you are caught up in a community that resounds and acts like a well orchestrated symphony and everyone playing the piece "Ode to Love", which is the music all of our hearts yearn to play and master.
If we, who are human, can feel love and give love, then imagine how much God, who is Love, imagine the depth of his feeling or the eternality of his giving.
Knowing God is finding that instrument of your heart reverberates throughout your being when you catch a glimpse of Him.
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
Day one
Here is my first day with a blogg. Blawg. Blaug. Balogh. Bloog. It will be a serious place where I post my thoughts and events. I want it to be a place to cultivate thinking and spur others on to profound lyrical thoughts and discoveries. Thank you for reading day one. There shall be more.
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