O frailty of my hardened heart
Oh love that softens and dispels
The pride and pain from poisoned dark
And stills my soul that yet rebels
Oh God of hope my heart compels
To find my solace, rest in you
My fears and doubt your love dispels
Replaced with trust and hope anew
My King please quench this thirst in me
Embrace the pain my soul can’t take
Remove the scales and set me free
That I might live for your name’s sake
Help me to stand before I break
Give me a vision, hope imbued
Rise up this child, my heart awake
With sight restored and soul renewed.
Dedicated to Kael for her listening keyboard
Sunday, March 7, 2010
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Logos
Here's what I've got
words.
Language, words are not real. They are shells they are vessels into which we pour our experiences and meaning. Some words have shared meaning. Some are created to convey a personal meaning. Words are merely symbols creative by the collective.
if words in their barest form are meaningless why do we write, why do people journal?
People's minds are not full of words. They are full of emotions, the mystical and intangible. Words and language are the only concrete way to transpose that which has meaning and importance but no form. That which is intangible struggles to pour itself into the skeletal frame of language. In doing so, we can't transmit all of our meaning. But we try anyway. That way the next person who reads our words, might gain a fraction of our meaning and in turn pour their own experiences and meaning into the text...into the words.
Moving forward
The gospels: in the beginning was the word and the word was God and the word was with God.
Jesus is the word or logos. What does this mean? God in his deity is so far beyond human understanding and meaning. He is intangible. In order for us to ever understand this intangible Being, God poured himself into Jesus. Jesus, the word, is the concrete, tangible form of God. Jesus is God is the Word. Why do we all seem to define and identify Jesus (faith) in different ways? Because as we receive the Word, we each pour into it our own understanding and experiences. None of us truly know the entirety of the Word (Jesus), because we bring ourselves into our understanding.
Perhaps as a community of believers we can better understand God by bringing together our understandings of the Word (Jesus). Together all of our understanding will still not equal the entirety of God, but will give us a better glimpse of the tangible Word.
words.
Language, words are not real. They are shells they are vessels into which we pour our experiences and meaning. Some words have shared meaning. Some are created to convey a personal meaning. Words are merely symbols creative by the collective.
if words in their barest form are meaningless why do we write, why do people journal?
People's minds are not full of words. They are full of emotions, the mystical and intangible. Words and language are the only concrete way to transpose that which has meaning and importance but no form. That which is intangible struggles to pour itself into the skeletal frame of language. In doing so, we can't transmit all of our meaning. But we try anyway. That way the next person who reads our words, might gain a fraction of our meaning and in turn pour their own experiences and meaning into the text...into the words.
Moving forward
The gospels: in the beginning was the word and the word was God and the word was with God.
Jesus is the word or logos. What does this mean? God in his deity is so far beyond human understanding and meaning. He is intangible. In order for us to ever understand this intangible Being, God poured himself into Jesus. Jesus, the word, is the concrete, tangible form of God. Jesus is God is the Word. Why do we all seem to define and identify Jesus (faith) in different ways? Because as we receive the Word, we each pour into it our own understanding and experiences. None of us truly know the entirety of the Word (Jesus), because we bring ourselves into our understanding.
Perhaps as a community of believers we can better understand God by bringing together our understandings of the Word (Jesus). Together all of our understanding will still not equal the entirety of God, but will give us a better glimpse of the tangible Word.
a continued fragment
That day, the little girl continued her journey. She walked and she walked. One step in front of the other, not caring where it took her as long as she was going somewhere. One step and than the next. Soon the little girl could not even tell if she was moving for she wandered into a place where the sun consumed the earth. All around her was blinding white light. She could not see before her or behind her and her eyes began to burn from the sun.
“Hello!” She called out into the light.
“Hello!” It called back to her.
“I can't see!” She cried again.
“Close your eyes!” It cried back.
So she closed her eyes and all was dark.
The little girl sat and pondered for a moment. But this won't help at all. With my eyes open: I am blinded by the light. With my eyes closed I have no sense of direction.
“Must you have a sense of direction?” It asked her.
“Well how am I supposed to get anywhere if I have no direction?” She began to cry.
“Really now, there is no need to cry.” it asserted patiently.
“But what am I going to do?” The tears were coming steadily now.
“I don't know. I suppose crying helps a lot though,” came the reply.
She hiccupped, her tears stopping for a moment.
“Well, I suppose it doesn't. But it was quite rude of you to say so.”
“No, it really wasn’t. It was just the truth.” It replied.
“Yes, well if that was the truth than the truth must be a rude sort of a thing. Besides, what am I going to do?”
“Wait.” It calmly replied.
“Wait?! How can I wait? I’ll just be wasting time.”
“Time? Oh, you cannot waste time! What a strange thing to say.” It replied.
“But, that is what we are doing right now!” She was anxious now. “If we keep waiting nothing will happen and I won’t get anywhere.”
“One does not waste time. No, we are letting time run its course.”
She started to get up, “I really must be going!”
“You won’t get anywhere. You’ll walk in circles, it’s to bright to see anything and with you eyes closed you’ll fall.” Its voice was matter of fact.
“What would you have me do then?’
“I already told you. Just wait.”
The little girl weighed her options. On one hand she could follow this stranger’s advice, but how did she know if she could trust him? Yet, she knew the voice was right, she would not get anywhere and something made her feel like she could trust the voice.
So she kept her eyes closed and waited.
The little girl could see the halo of the searing light that warmed her closed eyelids.
“What are we waiting for her?” She asked
“Just wait.”
So the little girl continued to wait.
The little girl began to relax in the warmth of the light as she waited the stillness slowly enveloped her.
Am I sleeping? She wondered.
“No,” came the voice. “You are waiting.”
The little girl continued to wait. The longer she waited the more the stillness seemed to come alive. She began to hear the quiet flow of a creek, the twittering of chatty birds, and the sound of the wind whispering through tree branches.
“The wait is over,” it whispered.
The little girl slowly opened her eyes. The light had dimmed so that she could see. Instead of the blinding light her eyes opened to a softly illuminated sky that whispered the herald of dusk.
She took a deep breath, taking in the enchanting sight before her with awe.
“Where did you take me?” She asked.
“No where” it replied.
“No where?”
“No where.”
“Hello!” She called out into the light.
“Hello!” It called back to her.
“I can't see!” She cried again.
“Close your eyes!” It cried back.
So she closed her eyes and all was dark.
The little girl sat and pondered for a moment. But this won't help at all. With my eyes open: I am blinded by the light. With my eyes closed I have no sense of direction.
“Must you have a sense of direction?” It asked her.
“Well how am I supposed to get anywhere if I have no direction?” She began to cry.
“Really now, there is no need to cry.” it asserted patiently.
“But what am I going to do?” The tears were coming steadily now.
“I don't know. I suppose crying helps a lot though,” came the reply.
She hiccupped, her tears stopping for a moment.
“Well, I suppose it doesn't. But it was quite rude of you to say so.”
“No, it really wasn’t. It was just the truth.” It replied.
“Yes, well if that was the truth than the truth must be a rude sort of a thing. Besides, what am I going to do?”
“Wait.” It calmly replied.
“Wait?! How can I wait? I’ll just be wasting time.”
“Time? Oh, you cannot waste time! What a strange thing to say.” It replied.
“But, that is what we are doing right now!” She was anxious now. “If we keep waiting nothing will happen and I won’t get anywhere.”
“One does not waste time. No, we are letting time run its course.”
She started to get up, “I really must be going!”
“You won’t get anywhere. You’ll walk in circles, it’s to bright to see anything and with you eyes closed you’ll fall.” Its voice was matter of fact.
“What would you have me do then?’
“I already told you. Just wait.”
The little girl weighed her options. On one hand she could follow this stranger’s advice, but how did she know if she could trust him? Yet, she knew the voice was right, she would not get anywhere and something made her feel like she could trust the voice.
So she kept her eyes closed and waited.
The little girl could see the halo of the searing light that warmed her closed eyelids.
“What are we waiting for her?” She asked
“Just wait.”
So the little girl continued to wait.
The little girl began to relax in the warmth of the light as she waited the stillness slowly enveloped her.
Am I sleeping? She wondered.
“No,” came the voice. “You are waiting.”
The little girl continued to wait. The longer she waited the more the stillness seemed to come alive. She began to hear the quiet flow of a creek, the twittering of chatty birds, and the sound of the wind whispering through tree branches.
“The wait is over,” it whispered.
The little girl slowly opened her eyes. The light had dimmed so that she could see. Instead of the blinding light her eyes opened to a softly illuminated sky that whispered the herald of dusk.
She took a deep breath, taking in the enchanting sight before her with awe.
“Where did you take me?” She asked.
“No where” it replied.
“No where?”
“No where.”
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