Check!

I am just checking off my list of things to do today. One of them is to write something. I don't know what to write about, but I will write something, at least! It could be crappy or silly or strange, but if I don't write it won't have the opportunity to be anything! I would rather write something creepy and downright stupid than not right anything at all. Most of what I write, I think, is kind of silly, but it makes me feel better to do so. If I could major in thinking at college I would. That's all I ever love to do. Sometimes it is tiring but I love it. Thinking has a lot to do with what I write. There are many things I think, though, but don't know how to communicate. That is why I end up sounding so strange! That is why I love reading because I feel others like Lewis, Thoreau, Pascal, Cather, and Kierkegaard say what I have been trying to say all along. They speak for me. They are better communicators.

If I just keep up this writing I think I will get better and better. Where else could I start to become a better writer, than by writing? I can't be completely amazing at this thing on my first real tries. I know it is something that develops. Everything needs refining, right? Rough draft! Here I come!

Right now everything is so confusing. This is how it is most of the time. These questions itch me and drive me crazy. The weight of the reality of which I believe (Christianity) is always heavy on me.

But he said, "Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." He had skin and nails. A heart, a heartbeat. Eyelashes. Sweat. Pain, sufferings. Blood.

My salvation rests in Him. What kind of love is this? A love I can only wait for. A love I can only believe in, and hope for.

I can't be in just a gullible atmosphere that benefits me.

I want to acknowledge God when I see the Sun. I want to breathe knowing He willed it. I want to see people as children of God; created by God, and for God. I want to be still and know that He is Lord. Our Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

My Thoughts on the Limitations of Language and Communication

There are many moments when I have to catch my breath. And I must sulk in the presence of that certain experience. When it leaves me, I think maybe I should type it up. I come to the computer, place my fingers on the keyboard, and am humbled. The only thing I end up communicating is how I simply cannot. Everything, though, is worth trying to communicate. That is why I am fascinated with words and linguistics. The end of everything incommunicable seems to be in paradoxes.

From The Valley of Vision Puritan Prayers

Morning

Compassionate Lord, Thy mercies have brought me to the dawn of another day. Vain will be its gift unless I grow in grace, increase in knowledge, ripen for spiritual harvest. Let me this day know Thee as Thou art, love Thee supremely, serve Thee wholly, admire Thee fully. Through grace let my will respond to Thee, knowing that power to obey is not in me, but that Thy free love alone enables me to serve Thee. Here then is my empty heart, overflow it with Thy choicest gifts; here is my blind understanding, chase away its mists of ignorance.

O ever watchful Shepherd, lead, guide, tend me this day; without Thy restraining rod I err and stray. Hedge up my path lest I wander into unwholesome pleasure, and drink its poisonous streams; direct my feet that I be not entangled in Satan's secret snares, nor fall into his hidden traps. Defend me from assailing foes, from evil circumstances, from myself. My adversaries are part and parcel of my nature; they cling to me as my very skin; I cannot escape their contact. In my rising up and sitting down they barnacle me; they entice with constant baits; my enemy is within the citadel. Come with almighty power and cast him out, pierce him to death, and abolish in me every particle of carnal life this day.

Walks

On my walks I observe. I trudge along sometimes not knowing where I'll end up. Reminisced the past, will hope the future. Onward, if I just keep going, I'll discover something.

Is it the beauty of watching earth sprinkle into night?
Could it be the sharpening of my senses?
Is it those eternal questions that pound me, steady like a drum?
Maybe it is the unreality that I humbly slip into?

Walk, walk, walk, walk, walk, walk, walk, walk

I know myself better when I walk
(which results ultimately in a stronger reality.)
I communicate with God when I walk.
He responds in "truth", "beauty", "awe"
and "curiousity."
(Silly words; sap interpretations)
But shhhh....

Just listen.
Just walk.