Precious King.
Creative lover, engineer of my deepest longings I desperately thirst for you.
My heart aches to be touched by your most intimate hands, your hands which molded me,
inspired me, held me, and taught me.
Divine so beautiful, I long to hear your voice in every constant, passing moment.
Come steal me away, kidnap me, rendezvous with me in our most secret place.
Your heart calls out to me, echoing from the inmost, starving places of my spirit.
Your glory manifesting itself even within my dreams!
For I cannot contain your love, precious Father.
You have kindled a fire in me, one that grows more anxious, more powerful.
It blinds me with a pure selfish rage for a deeper love with you, captivating me, intoxicating me, sending me over the edge of every boundary reality has set before me. Causing me to defy what is natural around me, and step into what your love has bestowed ahead for me, a world beyond comparison.
I love you, God, Father, Master, Brother, Friend, Councilor, Lover...
Perfect.
Monday, October 19, 2009
OMRSAIAPAGP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Ohhmmrainbowsugarandicecreamandperogiesandgermanpancakes!!!!!!
http://www.oakislandtreasure.co.uk/index.php
!!!!!!
Treasures and history!
!!!
: )
http://www.oakislandtreasure.co.uk/index.php
!!!!!!
Treasures and history!
!!!
: )
Friday, October 16, 2009
Facebook = angry
I have to admit, being on facebook these days has really started to make me upset.
Witnessing my owns friends and their personal demise in their belief, moral values and character has started to grind my teeth.
Social networking has given me insight to something I never would have known or discover on my own.
All of them grew up the same way I did, and yet have chosen a radically different path, and for what?
Et Tu ______?
This line has become my new defining sentence for each of them.
(For those of you that do not know where or what this line means, it's from Shakespeare's play, Caesar. It's when he was stabbed in the back, by his best friend. Caesar turns to him, and says in Latin, "Et tu Brutus?" Meaning, "You too Brutus?" For he never thought his friend would betray him.)
Social networking has become a beautiful, artistic form of expression.
A way to define yourself, go against the grain, and become that one self-titled tribute that makes you a star every time you post a well written note, neatly framed photograph, or the latest video on your favorite cause.
This my friends, is perfect witnessing ground.
Have you ever read another one of your friends publishes, and felt moved or emotionally stirred at all?
One would say that Holy-Spirit inspired word is able to sway the hearts of many, even those who have turned purposefully against Him.
My heart aches, because I remember the scariest verse in the Bible to me, as I say these words.
"Many will say to me on that day, 'Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and in your name drive out demons and perform many miracles? And He will say to them, 'Be away from me, for I never knew you." -Matthew 7:22-23
This verse has such impact on me, because how many Christians out there believe that they have received eternal life because they believe there is a god. Well even the devil believes in God!
Even the ones who understand the power in His name, and healed the sick, etc, did not know Him.
This is not a 'woe-to-you' message, this is not a condemning sermon. This is a 'the-creator-waits-at-the-foot-of-your-bed-every-morning-for-you-to-wake-up-because-He-is-madly-inlove-with-you', message about love, and how we are in charge of representing it. The type of love that He gets butterflies in his stomach whenever you talk to Him.
I claim back those that have been lost, and I call those in who are seeking the truth.
God is in a good mood, but He's left us in charge of spinning this place around.
(Remember He's in charge, but He's put us in control)
So from here on out, I will love, and love, and love.
And through that will God speak.
Witnessing my owns friends and their personal demise in their belief, moral values and character has started to grind my teeth.
Social networking has given me insight to something I never would have known or discover on my own.
All of them grew up the same way I did, and yet have chosen a radically different path, and for what?
Et Tu ______?
This line has become my new defining sentence for each of them.
(For those of you that do not know where or what this line means, it's from Shakespeare's play, Caesar. It's when he was stabbed in the back, by his best friend. Caesar turns to him, and says in Latin, "Et tu Brutus?" Meaning, "You too Brutus?" For he never thought his friend would betray him.)
Social networking has become a beautiful, artistic form of expression.
A way to define yourself, go against the grain, and become that one self-titled tribute that makes you a star every time you post a well written note, neatly framed photograph, or the latest video on your favorite cause.
This my friends, is perfect witnessing ground.
Have you ever read another one of your friends publishes, and felt moved or emotionally stirred at all?
One would say that Holy-Spirit inspired word is able to sway the hearts of many, even those who have turned purposefully against Him.
My heart aches, because I remember the scariest verse in the Bible to me, as I say these words.
"Many will say to me on that day, 'Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and in your name drive out demons and perform many miracles? And He will say to them, 'Be away from me, for I never knew you." -Matthew 7:22-23
This verse has such impact on me, because how many Christians out there believe that they have received eternal life because they believe there is a god. Well even the devil believes in God!
Even the ones who understand the power in His name, and healed the sick, etc, did not know Him.
This is not a 'woe-to-you' message, this is not a condemning sermon. This is a 'the-creator-waits-at-the-foot-of-your-bed-every-morning-for-you-to-wake-up-because-He-is-madly-inlove-with-you', message about love, and how we are in charge of representing it. The type of love that He gets butterflies in his stomach whenever you talk to Him.
I claim back those that have been lost, and I call those in who are seeking the truth.
God is in a good mood, but He's left us in charge of spinning this place around.
(Remember He's in charge, but He's put us in control)
So from here on out, I will love, and love, and love.
And through that will God speak.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Bon voyage.
Hello there.
Welcome to the commissioning of my first official blog post.
I just came back from the movie Zombie-land, and should be working on my school work.
However!
I have decided to commit to this blog, and not let it become just another link collecting digital cobwebs on my computer.
The movie was alright, although it contained a lot of gore and language.
The premise is essentially about 4 survivors of a massive zombie infested pandemic, who meet up and try to survive.
The main character (a teenage guy who has way too many phobias and a socializing problem)
has a list of rules he has collected through his zombie-surviving experience.
All of them seemed pretty reasonable to me (Rule: Bathrooms are dangerous)
except for one of them.
Rule #17
Don't be a hero.
I want to be a superhero, no joke.
But do I truly know what that entails?
A hero is diving into something, head first, fists clenched, and knowing that my act of courage may turn into my greatest, and last stand.
I believe being corageous does not make a hero.
I can run into a burning building and rescue a child from imminent danger, and the newspaper would call me a hero.
However, if I come around the corner of my street, and there's a fire wreaking havoc on an apartment, will I run into it everytime?
I can stand on the sidewalk with all the onlookers, our hearts aching, wishing with every bone inside me that everyone is ok, and not be looked down on, or expected more of.
Heroes however, are given higher standards.
A hero gives up himself for the greater good, but understands that he is greater than the common good.
Knowing that you are hero is what defines a situation between instinct kicking in and you doing something corageous, and knowing it is your divine destiny to be corageous.
Hoo-rah!
Welcome to the commissioning of my first official blog post.
I just came back from the movie Zombie-land, and should be working on my school work.
However!
I have decided to commit to this blog, and not let it become just another link collecting digital cobwebs on my computer.
The movie was alright, although it contained a lot of gore and language.
The premise is essentially about 4 survivors of a massive zombie infested pandemic, who meet up and try to survive.
The main character (a teenage guy who has way too many phobias and a socializing problem)
has a list of rules he has collected through his zombie-surviving experience.
All of them seemed pretty reasonable to me (Rule: Bathrooms are dangerous)
except for one of them.
Rule #17
Don't be a hero.
I want to be a superhero, no joke.
But do I truly know what that entails?
A hero is diving into something, head first, fists clenched, and knowing that my act of courage may turn into my greatest, and last stand.
I believe being corageous does not make a hero.
I can run into a burning building and rescue a child from imminent danger, and the newspaper would call me a hero.
However, if I come around the corner of my street, and there's a fire wreaking havoc on an apartment, will I run into it everytime?
I can stand on the sidewalk with all the onlookers, our hearts aching, wishing with every bone inside me that everyone is ok, and not be looked down on, or expected more of.
Heroes however, are given higher standards.
A hero gives up himself for the greater good, but understands that he is greater than the common good.
Knowing that you are hero is what defines a situation between instinct kicking in and you doing something corageous, and knowing it is your divine destiny to be corageous.
Hoo-rah!
Monday, October 12, 2009
Life according to photoshop, and a tree with a root for a knee.
distorting, changing, creating, rearranging, fixing, making,
re-do.
edit it, cut it, fix it, make it, love it, hate it, redo it
let's start again.
Once upon a time
there was this sweet little tree
that had long leeves, and
a root fora knee.
Then one day it changed it's mind
it uprooted itself
and left the forest be- hind
went for a walk
Came accross a bear
then ran a long way because it was scared
at the moment he's wandering around,
still not sure of where he's bound
it still doesn't want to a be a sweet little tree
one of those trees with a root for a knee.
As he walked, he wondered out loud
i wonder what it would be like, to be a cloud
he shaved his branchers, and painted himself white
walked to the edge of a cliff, to fly like a kite
but soon he discovered, trees can't fly
now he remembers, why he shouldnt try
he fell straight down, hit the bottom with a crash
picked his pieces up, that were now all mashed
at the moment he'swandering around,
still not sure of where he's bound
it still doesn't want to a be a sweet little tree
one of those trees with a root for a knee.
he came accross another tree
one of those trees with a root for a knee
she was confused, what she wanted to be
so he asked her, why dont you come along with me?
they both set out, to discover why
this trip, was taking so much ti-me
to discover what they wanted to be
becase thery both knew, they didnt want to
be a tree, with a root for a knee.
they came accross a tarmpoline
then she saw, what use that would be
so she cut a hole in the middle, of her big bark
unforunately, they saw, that took out her heart
at the moment, he's wandering around,
still not sure of where he's bound
it still doesn't want to a be a sweet little tree
one of those trees with a root for a knee.
re-do.
edit it, cut it, fix it, make it, love it, hate it, redo it
let's start again.
Once upon a time
there was this sweet little tree
that had long leeves, and
a root fora knee.
Then one day it changed it's mind
it uprooted itself
and left the forest be- hind
went for a walk
Came accross a bear
then ran a long way because it was scared
at the moment he's wandering around,
still not sure of where he's bound
it still doesn't want to a be a sweet little tree
one of those trees with a root for a knee.
As he walked, he wondered out loud
i wonder what it would be like, to be a cloud
he shaved his branchers, and painted himself white
walked to the edge of a cliff, to fly like a kite
but soon he discovered, trees can't fly
now he remembers, why he shouldnt try
he fell straight down, hit the bottom with a crash
picked his pieces up, that were now all mashed
at the moment he'swandering around,
still not sure of where he's bound
it still doesn't want to a be a sweet little tree
one of those trees with a root for a knee.
he came accross another tree
one of those trees with a root for a knee
she was confused, what she wanted to be
so he asked her, why dont you come along with me?
they both set out, to discover why
this trip, was taking so much ti-me
to discover what they wanted to be
becase thery both knew, they didnt want to
be a tree, with a root for a knee.
they came accross a tarmpoline
then she saw, what use that would be
so she cut a hole in the middle, of her big bark
unforunately, they saw, that took out her heart
at the moment, he's wandering around,
still not sure of where he's bound
it still doesn't want to a be a sweet little tree
one of those trees with a root for a knee.
In a valley...
My knees quake, and I buckle to the ground.
A vast field lies before me, filled with bodies and
weapons that whisper of glorious battles past.
Some spell a story of a un-human victory, others
quote an ending, that is not meant to be mine...
Defeat.
I laugh as I look down across my armour.
Splits and rips, still showing off fresh blood, spilling
from the wounds.
I lift my shield. Across it spans craters and dents
from wars come and gone.
I look at my reflection, in a puddle mixed with sweat and mud, and my
helmet gazes back at me, speaking words of encouragement, that it would surely last, for many more battles.
Hope.
I gaze down my chest, at my breast plate. A huge scar remains in the armour over my heart, for where it was shattered. It was a warning,
for me to
never
get
back
up.
Purpose.
I smile again, as I stand to my feet, a fresh rain begining to beat down upon me, washing my wounds clean, preparing me for another
battle.
Strength.
My heart begins to beat in tune with the fast pace of rain, as I see a fresh new wave, of an army that wishes nothing but one thing to me, death. However, this beat is not of fear, but of anticipation.
Victory.
I lift my sword from the ground, a new brilliant ray of light upon it. I hold it high above my head as I mouth three single words, "Victory is yours."
I look towards the thousands that rumble straight for me. I grip my sword, and run towards them, with
Purpose.
For if God, is for me, who can be against me?
A vast field lies before me, filled with bodies and
weapons that whisper of glorious battles past.
Some spell a story of a un-human victory, others
quote an ending, that is not meant to be mine...
Defeat.
I laugh as I look down across my armour.
Splits and rips, still showing off fresh blood, spilling
from the wounds.
I lift my shield. Across it spans craters and dents
from wars come and gone.
I look at my reflection, in a puddle mixed with sweat and mud, and my
helmet gazes back at me, speaking words of encouragement, that it would surely last, for many more battles.
Hope.
I gaze down my chest, at my breast plate. A huge scar remains in the armour over my heart, for where it was shattered. It was a warning,
for me to
never
get
back
up.
Purpose.
I smile again, as I stand to my feet, a fresh rain begining to beat down upon me, washing my wounds clean, preparing me for another
battle.
Strength.
My heart begins to beat in tune with the fast pace of rain, as I see a fresh new wave, of an army that wishes nothing but one thing to me, death. However, this beat is not of fear, but of anticipation.
Victory.
I lift my sword from the ground, a new brilliant ray of light upon it. I hold it high above my head as I mouth three single words, "Victory is yours."
I look towards the thousands that rumble straight for me. I grip my sword, and run towards them, with
Purpose.
For if God, is for me, who can be against me?
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