Home is where the heart is

I long for a simple life; a peaceful life. Living in the city has its perks, but it is not for me. Do not mistake me: by "simple" I do not mean convenient. If I wanted a life of convenience, the city would indeed be a good home...but it is not my home, and never will be. If, as they say, home is where the heart is, then my home is across a whole range of mountains, and spans nations' borders. My heart lies in the desert canyons of New Mexico, the rugged wildness of Durango, the grand splendour of Jackson Hole, the friendly simplicity of Moyie Springs, and the silent beauty of Kootenay Lake. These places are more my home than almost anywhere else I have lived. The day now fast approaches when I can finally leave Michigan and follow the setting sun.

Peace.

God and Poe

So, I have been reading the works of Poe, and just tonight I read a story of his entitled, "Mesmeric Revelation." Although I do not agree with all of Poe's ideas, this was one of many instances where I was struck by his brilliance. Allow me to just leave a few quotes and a thought.

"V: There are two bodies - the rudimental and the complete; corresponding with the two conditions of the worm and the butterfly. What we call 'death,' is but the painful metamorphosis. Our present incarnation is progressive, preparatory, temporary. Our future is perfected, ultimate, immortal. The ultimate life is the full design.
P: But of the worm's metamorphosis we are palpably cognizant.
V: We, certainly - but not the worm. The matter of which our rudimental body is composed, is within the ken of the organs of that body; or, more distinctly, our rudimental organs are adapted to the matter of which is formed the rudimental body; but not to that of which the ultimate is composed. The ultimate body thus escapes our rudimental senses, and we perceive only the shell which falls, in decaying, from the inner form; not that inner form itself; but this inner form, as well as the shell, is appreciable by those who have already acquired the ultimate life."

"V: ... The pain of the primitive life of Earth, is the sole basis of the bliss of the ultimate life in Heaven."

"V: But to the inorganic beings - to the angels - the whole of the unparticled matter is substance - that is to say, the whole of what we term 'space' is to them the truest substantiality; - the stars, meantime, through what we consider their materiality, escaping the angelic sense, just in proportion as the unparticled matter, through what we consider its immateriality, eludes the organic."

Now, imagine this; close your eyes if necessary. Empty space, the areas we generally consider free of physical matter...the space between planets, the space between electrons...this is where God resides. All things physical reside within God, and are God's thoughts.

"In him we live and move and have our being." Acts of the Apostles

I would highly recommend reading Poe, and this particular story, if you have not.

Peace.

Avoid deceit

7-29-14, #2
Strive to be pure and righteous in your dealings with all, human and/or otherwise. Avoid deceit at all costs. Being a fool with right motives is better than being a cunning wicked man. The pure and the righteous will be taken advantage of sometimes, but theirs is the right path.

1-6-15
Regarding the above, I have come to believe it is a great thing to be honest and open. I would like my life to be above reproach. Great kindness, undeserved, has been afforded me for honesty, and although I know it will not always turn out as well, the freedom I experienced with it makes me want to cultivate a lifestyle of more full openness. I would not call myself a liar, but I do keep much to myself in fear of others. This fear has crippled me before, but I cannot let it continue to control my actions.

Flowering Tree

On a hill I saw a flowering tree
Nestled in a forest so subtly
Though all its brethren were still asleep
The flowering tree refused to keep
Its silence for a moment more

Sword

So, although I have been having a great time in Grand Rapids this past year, it has been somewhat at the expense of my journey after Jesus. I have been realising more and more (as you know if you read my last post) how far I have wandered from truly following Christ. Let me state just some of my beliefs here clearly, for my own benefit and so you my readers know where I believe the path to God lies:

I believe Jesus was and is the promised Messiah of the Jews.
I believe Jesus was and is the Son of God, the Word of God, and God incarnate.
I believe Jesus died on the cross in order to bear the sins of mankind.
I believe Jesus rose from the dead and is now with God.
I believe Jesus is the way, the truth, and the life.

Re-affirming these is important to me right now, as I have found myself adrift in a sea of spirituality which was carrying me away from Jesus. Being back in Lansing for a little while over the holidays has helped me to look more intently at my actions, thoughts, and motives. It has also reminded me of the visions and truths I have received from God here in the past. One of these visions was of me holding out my hands to God, and receiving a sword. This sword, as far as I have been able to determine through words given to me by others and other images, is prayer. It represents not just speaking to God, but prayers of intercession and spiritual warfare. I have taken it back up tonight, and do not intend to lay it down again. Jesus' seal is on my arm, and I can no longer ignore the fight to which He has called me.

Peace.

Resurrection

"He began to reflect: there was nothing foul, no bad act, but there were thoughts, bad thoughts, which were that all his present intentions - marrying Katyusha and giving the land away to the peasants - that all this was an unrealizable dream, that he would not carry it to its conclusion, that it was all artificial, unnatural, and that he ought to live as he had been living.

"There was no bad act, but there was something much worse than a bad act: there were those thoughts from which spring all bad deeds. A bad act may not be repeated, and one may repent of it; but evil thoughts generate all evil deeds.

"A bad act only smooths out the path for other bad acts; bad thoughts irresistibly drag one down that path."

~Tolstoy, "Resurrection"

So, there's that. I had no idea reading a Tolstoy book would have an impact on my spiritual life, and yet as I read it today I realised this is, in fact, the case. I have seen the truth of the above words in my own life. Life in Grand Rapids is easy and good, and I have become lazy in my mind and spirit here. I have finally seen some of the wickedness which has crept into my mind, and it pains me to realise I have left it alone for so long. I miss the teachings of Jesus, the words of life I have taken for granted, the community of the church. Having realised these things, now is the time for spiritual and physical action. Please pray for me as I seek God's guidance.

Peace.

Druid

Gath'ring now in dimming light
Round vibrant blaze, a heavy daze
Grows thicker with oncoming night

Faces blurred by ashen smoke
All in a trance with crossed-arm stance
Offer up the sacrificial oak

In ancient song their voices rise
Through the trees, on whisp'ring breeze
The forest muffles their primal cries

A sudden hush as one steps forth
Wave of hand, no more they stand
But sit as the elder gestures north

Through moonlit clouds his tales unfold
Of stars and sky and times gone by
His enraptured audience forgetting the cold

The breeze, nay, wind, now growing loud
A sudden flash, a deaf'ning crash
The thunder shakes the gathered crowd

A beat not lost in the gath'ring storm
The elder's eyes glint like steel against flint
Fire, moonlight, and shadow distorting his form

Words filling beds of dry rivers of thought
Unmasking their fears, he brings them to tears
In nets of pure image their minds have been caught

But now the rain begins to fall
All on their feet, they now retreat
The elder trails, alone and tall

Into the shadows they disperse
Through days of yore and tales of lore
'Cross deepest mem'ries they traverse

If to the woods at night you bring
An open ear, you may yet hear
The echoes of their voices ring