We are so far down the ladder of creativity it doesn't even show up on the scale. I look at a tree. Every one of them is different you know, just like we are, and I see yet another thing of beauty and grace. How it lives, how it moves in the breeze, how it grows each day and records the moment in the center of its being, which can be read like a cylindrical book.
Is it my ego that makes it so important to me that I invest so much of my time in frivolous things? And here I am thinking my sad little project is so beautiful. How droll.
Hello everyone. How's your day? I slept all the way through the night once again, except for the mandatory trip to the 'wee room'. It's been more than a week that this miracle has gone on. Before, I would sleep for a while and then suddenly I'm wide awake and restless, ready to be up, ready to fill my senses with, well, anything that will help put me back to sleep, so I don't have to be involved. Why is it we covet sleep instead of reality? Is it a coping mechanism to disengage somehow and think about 'nothing'? Some call it depression. I call it wasting time for no good reason. My selfishness.
Let's go one step more. Why do we so value what we think? Are we all so 'brilliant' that we always have to have something of the 'utmost importance' going on that we miss the tell-tale signs of God trying to get our attention so He can 'be with us'? Probably. By the way, He is ever so much more interesting than we are. The best company ever!
I aspire to do 'thus' and then devote a huge amount of time to it. Then, after a while the importance drains out of the subject like water out of a bag and I'm left 'dangling' in space, looking for the next 'world shaking event' to come to mind so I can feel important about what I'm doing again.
"Oh, wretched man that I am..." We torment ourselves with the disappointment of unfinished works and wonder why we're so stressed out all the time.
"Dang, pass the bottle, I need another swig; how bout you?" Want some cheese with that whine?
Normalcy, what is normalcy? We pick the most outrageous things to get involved in and then wonder why we wander. The never-ending search for the already answered questions. How childish. Not childlike, childish. Maturity is such a relative term anymore. I know young children with more maturity than some of our most revered statesmen. The cancer of greed has metastasized in their hearts and is slowly killing their soul with guilt from the inside out. The torment of their evident 'crimes' haunts them and ages them and shows up in the way the look. Their countenance betrays them.
My friend told me that he reads my blog. I was instantly flattered. Why? I don't consider myself that good a writer. I am just 'venting' in my own way. Just 'letting my hair down'; not that I have that much of it left anymore.
I think 'inventions', whether realized or unrealized make for a much better surrounding, especially in our minds. We wouldn't be hurting others so much or destroying things as though they aren't impoprtant if we concentrated on them instead of what seems to make us happy and doesn't.
'Everyone matters', no matter what the signs say to the contrary.
My 'visibility' is limited. I can only see so far. The rest of it isn't there. Really? How narrow of me. There ARE things out there all the time that I don't see. I'm talking about seeing with my spiritual eyes, just like the song says. Spiritual eyes that have no limits or confinements. The walls we build aren't always meant to keep things out. We keep things in as well.
Draw a line in the sand. How long does it last? Is it about to 'rain' and wash the line away? Have we carved it deep enough to outlast the onslaught meant to erase it? Or have we only 'scratched' the line in the hard surface of life in a moment of weakness, using the excuse that 'it wasn't meant to be after all', when it disappears from sight and follows in the pathway of forgetfulness and regret that we keep as a 'get out of jail free card' in our mind, for times like this? Whew! That was a long sentence, even for me. More venting?
I wish I could read between the lines in my own mind and get past the confusing parts to the place where idea meets inspiration and putting it into play becomes a reality. Call me lazy, but I've never been good at waiting and it hasn't served me well at all.
"Wait before the Lord and He will renew your strength..." Of course, I'm paraphrasing. Isn't that exactly how we exonerate ourselves? We use 'convenient scriptures' to 'get out of jail' and soothe our wounded egos. Somebody else is always to blame, it's never our fault. We're innocent children of God and 'Daddy will get me out of trouble'...won't He?
Mark my words, underline them if you will, our mistakes always come back to haunt us. There's a 'register' of events and God knows every one of them by heart. Our redemption, the erasure if you will, is only triggered by forgiveness. The only way to erase the 'hard drive' is by way of the cross. The only way out of the confines of the tunnel of sin and self-destruction is by way of the cross.
"I am the way, the truth and the life. No man comes unto the Father but by me." There's no way around the truth. Our only salvation is to go 'through the blood of the Lamb and the word of our own testimony'.
We have to be there to do it. We can't send someone else in our place, that's already been done. We have to face the reality of it ourselves and surrender 'body, mind and soul' to the Creator that designed it all, that's how it works.
Such a simple explanation for such a complex situation. God knew what He was doing from the beginning.
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