A Mighty Fortress...we have, (Thank You Dr. Patterson)

I have often found myself in the wilderness, alone at picnic table with The Ancient Word, a lantern for light, as my family slept soundly in our tent.  The same in hotel rooms, dark before dawn, reading with my God, my lover sleeping.  This morning the same. 

I am about to finish Roland Bainton’s biography of Martin Luther, Here I Stand.  It may be the greatest book of our faith I have ever read besides The Holy Bible.  Luther struggled terrible in his own faith, was often desperately fearful of his lostness and terrible depressed.  In the closing chapters of the book the author addresses this with Luther’s own words.  This is a long post and it might be I am caught up in my own struggles, that I am reading Revelation in my quiet time, or just I am a long way from home, in a dark hotel room with Betty sleeping.  However, I found this story of Luther’s about Abraham, Isaac, and Christ deeply meaningful and insightful for my own faith.  In a time in America when we can easily be despondent over the condition of our beloved country it is good to be reminded, our God reigns, not only over America but also over our lives and the lives of our loved ones.  That alone compelled me to share it. 

Dr. Patterson recommended the book
to me.

    

Thou

Music’s existence is the only proof necessary to believe in God.  Oh, the joys that flow out of humans' mouths.  Music draws tears out of our hearts and praises out of our souls.  It can transport us to past ecstasies and pains unimaginable.  A little pondering is in order.  Music is just wind pushed and pulled by the lungs across two pieces of meat in the throat.  It is vibrations from strings, wires, and wooden slivers.  No mind in the vacuum of the human skull could have invented music or its mechanizations.  Add lyrics and have the Psalms, Let it Be, Amazing Grace, and Free Bird.  How Great Thou Art is a fitting closing line to this blog.      

This was our go-to song when Sissy had cancer.  Our son Zac belonged to this church when he had his art internship in NYC.
 

  

You Have No Life!

There is no knowing God without the daily study of, meditation upon, comparing oneself with, and committing to actions which mimic, God, in Christ, as urged and encouraged by the Holy Spirit.  All things, spiritual, natural, cultural, environmental, and political, are only known in and through the personal relationship we cultivate with the God Three.  A lover’s warmth, a sunset, a kindness, and all like things are only known in their great mystery by an ongoing, vibrant relationship with the God Three.  Even a snail or a soft breeze is known as miraculous divine by this relationship.  To deny oneself this gift is like choosing but one breath adequate for a lifetime of living, when all the heavens are filled with the breaths of God.

Betty and I regularly stop in Catholic Churches to pray.  This one was in 
Greenville SC.  Catholics always leave their doors open.  Light inside a
church was invented by God and discovered by the church.  As
soon as we had windows, we added colors.  Sacred spaces are another
knowing of wisdom.   

I Am A Dreamer

I am a dreamer.  I dream.  I dream of the pasts meaning, of the many “I’m sorry”s I need to give, of the many “I love you”s I need to say.  I dream of the what ifs I could have done, trails I never trod, challenges I never took up.  I dream of what those past loves are doing now, those boys I ran with, those girls I held.  I dream of past gangs I held membership in, those “Glory Days” when we ran like deer, howled at the moon, sang, and played to our greatest tunes.  I dream of art that I never made, of my dad long since gone and what I would say now if I could say.  I dream of all the feats I did that no one saw, of all the crumbling failures as well.  I dream of all the wonders I have seen, all the nature which seemed like a dream, all the mountain tops, valleys long, oceans deep and oceans beaches empty but with me and my lover.  I dream of my body I use to have, the lean one, the go all day and all night one, the one which knew no pain, the new one.  My dreams are like aching for, great longings of being with.  My dreams are of people, all the mates and maidens, all the summer days, winter snows, firesides, births, deaths, the loving, and the fights.  I dream of what will be, the passing over, what use to be, the long bike rides when we were free, the road trips, the trips to come, the trips I never made.  To all those friends I held dear, hold now, dream of but don’t know, wish I could see, see all the time, the great loves of my life.  I dream mostly of now and today, the green world before me, the rain, the sky, the Fairest Haven, my lover sleeping, the joy of having the time now to dream.  I dream because I am a dreamer and have dreams to dream. 

     

caterpillar, How Great Thou Art

Yesterday, one of our children sent us this photo of a caterpillar with a single drop of rain, a perfect sphere, a water bearer, and an agent of praise.   I rejoiced in the picture because it gave testimony that my lover and I had done our job as parents, our children have eyes that see.  Not that they had eyes, but that they had had their eyes opened.  We all have eyes, ears, fingers, a nose, and taste buds, but these are dulled until they are anointed through salvation to work properly.  The Bible says when the prodigal son “came to his senses”, he went back home.  It also says, “In all your ways acknowledge Him…”.    Our child probably didn’t know they were moving me to worship but having your eyes open is one of the greatest testimonies of praise for the One who not only made them but opened them as well.    

      

Assurance I am Possessed

I long to know people.  I am never one who seeks to waste time on small talk or chatter.  I would rather sit quietly with you than come away not knowing who you are.  I find people and their lives fascinating and treasure their telling of their tales.  I celebrate their highs and mourn with them their difficulties.  Life is short and can end in a twinkling and demands we know each other, and have compassion and love for each other.  This is why I love the earth so much.  It never hides but bares itself, bears upon you, exposes it truest truth, never what it isn’t, but is always what it is, and above all accepts me as I am.  If I know you, you can accept I want to know you more.  I want to walk along with you.  Most are unsure of this openness, wary of being known but I assure you I am gifted the love for others.  It is my assurance of salvation for it is not me but He who possesses me.    

 

Get To Being Saved

A momentous event.  It is spring warm outside which means our doors are open to the wonderful sounds, smells, and life outside our home.  Right now, a mockingbird sings, a breeze is strong enough to sway the branches and Sissy’s saving chimes slowly swing notes up from the dock.  As one must look to see, one must listen to hear, and breathe to smell.  The art of coming to our senses is being rapidly lost.  The gifted reminder of the prodigal sons' move toward salvation is no longer a ready part of our personal memory which gives saving a lesser window to come to us.  77° is a good reminder to get to being saved.     

Earth Elder

I am an elder of the earth.  I know the land and sea. I have been to mountain tops, lived through ocean storms, have found my two great loves, Him, and her, and have given my whole being away.  I have survived death and returned to the living, been tormented by burns, broken-hearted by lost ones, and experienced births firsthand, and deaths of the living.  I have seen behind the veil, had angels come to serve me, fought God and lost, walked every mile the prodigal and every mile back home. I have lived in squallers, under bridges, in mansions, and on My Side of the Mountain.  I have opened myself to the Great Eternal and suffered the torments and ecstasies.  I see most dawns and sunsets, married people by waterfalls, and love my lover everywhere.  I have pushed my body to collapse, lain in hot springs deep in the Rockies, and lived above the Arctic Circle.  I am scarred from head to ankle from heart to soul from daylight to daylight.  I have lived and am living.  I am an elder of the earth.   

The Earth in Labor Rests

It is delicate this morning, softness flowing over the mountains polishing the river.  My consciousness of it is all that is known, my heart alone making it present, otherwise, it would be unnoticed, and then—what’s the use?  I often think that noticing the earth I am helping, like whistling at my lover makes her glow with being noticed.  Clarinets softly serenade and a water bird floats by.  Rain will come tomorrow and today prepares me for it.  It is soft and quiet as the earth in labor rests a morning before pushing on its birth of spring.