“To live amid lax words and dim thoughts more or less translatable into concreteness depletes energy and deadens the joy of life.”
practical application: A man who says “precipitation probability is twenty percent” is less alive than if he had said and felt “a small chance of rain.”
we are suffocated by analytic abstractions of innumerable activities.
statistics. indexes. ratings.
the figures are definite. their worth often indefinite.
correlation does not imply causal relation.
especially of the human heart.
we are conditional.
i am a conditional lover. i have encountered an Unconditional Lover who is the Christ.
He is showing me how to NOT put conditions on my love.
i love noticing things. i usually try to enjoy the little moments. and revel in the things that go unmentioned. the feelings. thoughts. emotions. vibes of every moment paint the world with its beauty.
let me paint the picture that i’m living at the moment.
i’m in a building named after our college president. the rhythm of my childhood (90’s music) runnin through the speakers. my coworker just hung his “razor” scooter that he road to work up on the coat rack. no coats are hung there because of the big ball of heat in the air. its radiance shinning through the window soaks into my skin. i found an empty bag of starbucks coffee- that is good for one free coffee tonight. the faint smell from the coffee still permeates the air. a picture of a cat, in a raft, on the ocean that was colored from a book is staring from the cubicle beside me. the living word is at my side. open it and “taste and see that the Lord is good.”
Oh, so good.
all i know is. i’m done with. postmodernism.
i’m a product of. postmodernism.
but the transcendent One is calling me home.
human thought. human autonomy.
thought rooted. in thought.
i’m a product of. postmodernism.
but the truth is. He was there.
always has been, always will be.
My best friend stopped by… this lead to that…
and he decided to impress his new in-laws…
and i decided to be a one-upper and make a “flock of turkeys”…
… i’m thankful for friends, family, and construction paper. Lord, you are good. oh, so good.
no one knows you like your best friend. there are many things that go unspoken and are just simply understood when being in the company of a best friend.
69 days separated me and my best friend from being with one another in person. This is what followed:
spinning in circles in the parking lot. closing the door and sitting on the floor with the “truth light” in between us. speaking truth. laughing. remembering. dreaming. encouraging. and not speaking at all, just, BEING.
i’m so thankful for my best friend and for his heart and his new wife and the beautiful beacon of hope and light that Chirst shines through their marriage.
i’m so thankful for my other best friends that are ‘newer’ (over the past 4 years) and that the Lord has blessed me with. we all celebrated love as one of our brother’s was married off this weekend. it was a weekend of joy, remembering, laughing, and best of all being brothers. praise the Lord for the truth that was spoken and for the love that was shown. my heart is full. i am blessed.
My sister asked me about the economy last week. At first I forgot what time period I was living in so I was about to tell her about the economy of classical greece in contrast with the ideal “republic” that Plato wrote about,
which took me 27 hours to read then I realized that I live in 2011AD not 389BCE.
Some say we’re going into a double dip recession.
Some say the Fed and Obama are ridiculous in the way they annul one another’s policies.
Some say America is addicted to __________ (oil, money, fame, technology, accessibility, “the good life.”)
I would agree with any of those statements. I love the United States of America. I am so very thankful for the freedom(s) that I enjoy because I am a citizen of this great country.
But I came across a statement today and for some reason it has been ringing in my ear all day:
“Homes must once again become places of production if they are to provide alternatives to the global economic forces that form us into consumers.”
-a thought from Wendell Berry
…because the words do not say what they mean.
Sometimes I want to articulate a thought but no matter how many times I change the words in my sentence I find dissatisfaction with the diction. I think its simply because the words do not say what they mean. “That’s absurd,” you say. “Of course the words say what they mean. They’re all in the dictionary with the definitions scribbled out right beside them explaining their meaning to the world.”
This food is good.
God is good.
God made food- and now they’re equal?
Please say it isn’t so!
I’ve come to the conclusion that God doesn’t speak English.