Truth vs. truth

Death, is truth

From its oncoming we look around us for safety. We look for something to hide us from its stare.

We ought to stare back at it with eyes wide open. Unafraid, we should cling to its enemy. Its enemy is not “living to the fullest”, as some people say. It is not self-actualization. It is not realizing the full potential of one’s talents. It is not even romantic love, where many seek shelter from death’s glare.

It is simply, Jesus. Jesus Christ is the enemy of death, in all its forms. Oh, that he would be the one and singular apple of the eye, as we are to him (Psalm 17:8).

Jesus is Truth. The Truth of Jesus outweighs and out-modes the truth of death.

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The First Time

Humble beginnings and slow glory
To rise from unto

Living out the lies
Until truth is alone

To finally be free

So that I may hear
Clearly for the first time

With no worldly filter

No lofty socialization against nature
Against instinct and intuition

Nothing left but to walk
On solid ground

For the first time

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A Memory of God’s Works?

If you think an act by an person was so well executed that it may have been blessed by God, could it be so that the person asked God to bless the act so as to bring glory to God’s name? Does this mean then, that if the act touches your life, and at any point you have thought that the act was of God, then glory has been brought to His name completing the circle? It appears to follow that the glory was God’s to receive after all and that you were meant to understand it as an act of God, even if this understanding came years later.

This happened to me in a simple way. Last year, my mother and I traveled to North Carolina to visit my grandparents. One morning I awoke with a headache that threatened to stick around. I sat at the kitchen table, drinking coffee and holding my head, hoping that this would alleviate the pain. My grandmother was sitting across from me and noticed that I had a headache. She walked to my side and got behind me. She began to massageĀ  the back of my neck. With very little effort, putting an upward traveling pressure from the middle of my neck to the base of my skull, the pain began to subside. The massage only lasted a minute or so, but the damage done to my headache was already apparent. I knew that the headache would disappear in a short period of time. It did just that.

It has been almost exactly a year. Here I sit in bed experiencing another headache. It has made me remember the wondrous relief my head experienced under the soft, spongy hands of my grandmother.

This memory brought on the thoughts I laid out above in the first paragraph. I wondered if my grandmother had perhaps once asked if God would use her to bring glory to His name in all that she does. She is a Godly woman, so this scenario is not unlikely. I realized, as I wondered about this, that in attributing my relief to God’s works, glory was brought to his name. Does this perhaps mean that I was, after all, meant to remember this one year later and offer recognition to the glory of God, and that thereby glory would be brought to his name? I do not know the answer. Yet glory has been brought to His name through this memory. A provoking thought.

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Questions

I find myself tonight, faced with a daunting task to answer the questions in my heart. These questions have only lately been leaking out from the cracks of the stone wall that has until now been a prison for my heart. These cracks have the potential to become breeches, and I intend to exploit them. So, here I now account my reactions to the effects of my foretold freedom.

“During the first period of a man’s life the greatest danger is not to take the risk.” -Soren Kierkegaard

For the last 30 years almost I have passed many great ideas and plans through the neurons in my brain. Nearly none of them have come to fruition. The few goals I have met were pursued with the lightest yoke I could find to carry. I risked little and I have little reward. This was my life.

………………

The problem I am now faced with is to fit in as much risk taking as I can before the end. The danger here, I believe, is that I may overwhelm myself with ideas and goals and retreat from them once again, in preemptive exhaustion. The very idea of this possibility stinks of the fickleness of my previous years. My muscles atrophy with the anticipation of lethargy.

My affliction is that I have never been comfortable with a divided focus. Having more than one loyalty to tend to while accomplishing a task breeds incoherence in my mind. If I perceive something to be the most important thing, why should anything else share occupancy with it in my mind?

That last question is, I suppose, the first of my heart questions.

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How do you handle life?

If you live because you have to, you are doing what everyone does.

You might as well be successful.

Wouldn’t that be better than being captive to your emotions?

Why not live?

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What’s Left, Take In Mercy

I’ve been waiting here for you, sign that says:
“You have arrived and now you can live well.”
Yet, all the day I live another way.
Unholy thoughts, unrighteous dreams I dream.
I want one thing and then I trade the thing.
Unraveling, unsound, from seam to seam,
Unsure to end a search for inner rings,
Where I may find some place to be well put.
It is not rings for me that I should seek.
For inner rings are entered under foot,
The worlds plans for self-actualization.
And I would find it just as vain as this.
For I must give and lose myself to You.
A heart, sick and dying, my will to You.

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to make happy

If I get up early, and read a little, and pray a little, and make breakfast and coffee, and take a hot bath and stretch, and shave and brush my teeth, sit down and breathe for sec, and thank God for a new day, and watch food channel for a sec, and say hello to a friend on the phone, and listen to my playlist while getting something done like cleaning or homework, and then and only then get to my job early, I feel happy. But, happy isn’t the only word. Another good word is satisfied or responsible. I feel content. I feel good.

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to the hopelessly graceless

I jest a song
And then regret
Falls in

I know better:
The world
It’s in pain

What is loving worth
If not found out

I know better:
The world
Can’t find it

One love makes right
The world
That can’t find it

I know better:
I trade it away
And it finds me

It finds me:
And shows grace
To the hopelessly graceless

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no epic vindication

I’m not good for this
Explaining never
Sounds natural

The good always seems
Just within my reach
But never is gotten

Is this what you had
In mind young child

This could never be
What I thought would work

But this is what I did
These are whom I’ve hurt
This is where I’ve been

That is how it happened
This is why, then is when
This is my explanation

My account to you
Young child
Is that I lost

Could it ever have been
Another way
That doesn’t matter now

These are whom, that is where
Then is when, that is how
This is why

This is my unnatural
My explanation
I’m not good for this

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Advertisement To Superhighway Wayfarers

Seeking beauty
Or peace,
stranger?

Reach up right here.
Pull this
Lever.

Get what comes out
Beauty or
Peace.

But it will be
Never
Peace.

Beauty only
It will
Be.

However peace is
Offered
Here.

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