The Energy Of Delight

Delighting in God’s work leads us to delight in God, and delight in God drives away fear.

Dear God—

It’s been awhile since we’ve spoke beneath Your stars.  I vaguely remember a few inebriated instances of pleas for forgiveness, but those moments aren’t much worth reminiscing over if I can’t very well remember them.  I must confess the past month has been but a blistered blur on this path to freedom.  One must plead forgiveness for his improper actions, but I think we are both working to clear that up on our respective ends.  Well You and Your infinite nature probably don’t pay much worry to the same trivial ends as I, but either way I must thank you for seeing me through it all.

And even though I have been so very lost, the cycle of redemption shall soon come to bloom with the Spring of You.  So allow me to be redeemed beneath Your infinite nature that sparkles above me as I speak with humility at Your mercy. 

Banks Of The Deep End

I often feel as though I’ve reached that age at which I can sense the impulse of folly as it advances towards my thoughts.  And instead of speaking with You when the direst of desire for some sort of external help reaches its boiling point within me, I, instead turned my drowning attention towards the depths of whatever bottle was around.  And I now see that the gauze of booze does not help to heal the wounds of whatever it is one is suffering through, one would be none the wiser to go ahead and choose to hit the snooze on his wildest dreams.

And I feel as though these thoughts of mine that project sleepless patterns upon my night—the only thing I can do with them is stand on the edge of some eternal lake of fire within my mind and throw crumbs upon its surface and watch as the ideas come to feed like frenzied fish.  But again I have come to find that by speaking with You before bed instead of my own madness, these waters upon my fiery lake settle smooth.  So let us speak with the positive energy of Your delight for the remainder of this post.

You are the essence of the energy of my delight.  Even through the darkest nights, when I would look for Your light, and I couldn’t find it, little did I know that I was the light.  Maybe it was the darkness that couldn’t handle me. The external energy that I sought was not anywhere to be found except within me. This I now know.  

Your Will has revealed every movement of my life, and I can either obey You or I can resist You, but I cannot know with clarity what I am doing without much grace. Therefore I pray to You, God, with every breath I take give me the grace to never refuse anything you ask, but to remain utterly lost in Your Will’s immense obscurity, doing not what my will wants for my own good, but giving myself to You which is really the only possible good, for myself and for all of humanity.

His Infinite Love

Nor do I want to demand that what I do should immediately show some sort of result that I can appreciate. Neither do I want to esteem anything that I do, or do anything because I think it will make something of me in this world—but to only do things for love and love alone.  This is wherein the real obscurity hides, because the values loved by Your infinite love (the love so perfect that it is its own object) is absolutely incomprehensible to me.  Therefore to live for love is to live in the delight of Your infinite energy.  

I do not even need to know precisely what I am doing, except that I am glorifying the love of You.  To act out of obedience to the rules within the community of cosmic love, which was built by Your grace in order to love You, is obviously why I must act for love and love alone.  It is by following this rule that the world is saved.

It’s True I Tell You.

And since I live for love, I will ask for no reward, only more love.  Your love is infinite, as it scatters through the night sky above me and I reminisce upon a verse from Your Book. 

“Seek Him who made the seven stars and Orion, who turns midnight into dawn and darkens day into night, who calls for the waters of the sea and pours them out over the face of the land—the light of the world is His name.”

Amos 5:8

It is true that when we seek You, we seek the Creator of all things. You are all powerful, controlling both day and night.  And when within me, I was swimming in a sea of doubt; you tipped me over and from me that doubt spilled away.

So I thank you for drowning my doubt in the positive force of all that You delight. I believe that this may have been Your plan all along to see the truth of where I truly stand, but then again, I cannot try and fathom Your masterplan without letting my expectation get in the way so let us just attack today with Your energy at my side.

The Takeout

In closing, there is no delightful energy when conflict and argument arise within your own mind. All this inner-divergence amounts to is more resistance and turmoil in both the inlying and outlying environments of your very own life.  

It is instead that we should practice prayer purposefully and in the silence of prayer one will find peace by listening to the silence of your mind.  But some choose instead to argue with the madness that will often leave one bellied up with a bottle, only to ask the devil to soon step outside and handle this deviance like cursed men.  And even if one wins the argument with his very own devil, there is still no peace, for arguments are never won—they are perpetual.

When all you want is peace and love, one must have faith in the obscure realm of God’s Will, this is where the energy from within glows with delight and its positive nature realigns the heart with the head and God’s love will fill up and pour from the depths of your soul. Delighting in God’s work leads us to delight in God, and delight in God drives away fear.

Amen.

-BeLove

Creating Liberty

Creativity is a wild mind with a wandering eye that carries the torch of the soul.

What I want to do is to write well.  This feeling goes back to my early eccentric sense of existence—sunk in the glassy gravities of life—fumbling around for thrilling desperations of wisdom and knowledge.  I have long been keen and aware of painted veils, of God, of domes with stained glass tinting the white radiance of eternity, quivering in the intense delight of divinity and so on.  I have carried quite the nutty charm of all things since I was boy frolicking through the fields of mind-expanding growth, just on the other side of the past underneath the Cosmos of my adolescence.

The Forest Of My Youth.

Why I Write

It was underneath the stars of a sweat-filled southern summer night, many moons ago that creativity first started to drip through my soul.  The thoughts I thought were worth putting on paper.  Now here we are twenty some odd years later, going through the same motions, on a much larger scale rather than just some dusty old notebook.  Which by the way I still have.  This is why I write, well to write well, and just as well, it does help to give me a sense of liberty in a time when liberty is limping on its last leg.

If a writer is so guarded that he never writes anything that cannot be criticized, he will never write anything that can be read.  If you want to help other people you have got to make up your mind to write things that some men will condemn.  

If you write for God you will reach many men and bring them joy. If you write for men—you may make a pretty penny, you may give someone a hint of joy, and you may make a bit of an uproar in the world, if only for a little while.  If you write for yourself you can read what you yourself have written and after five agonizing minutes you may become so disgusted that you wish your creative side dead.

A Touch Of Creativity

Creativity has this marvelous touch that feels of flattery and laughs with liberty, all the while coalesced with subtle hints of courage.  As of recently, my mind has come to find that it is only truly fed with joy, when thinking about and creating all things eternal and infinite.  This is why I am satisfied to sit here thinking all day long about God, creativity, and the purity of love. And why I have decided to leave my own hell by the wayside of time.

The awakening of creative energy is inner liberation from pain and is accompanied by a sense of freedom. Creativity is the way of liberty. Creativity is a way out of your own hell.  Liberty cannot result in inner emptiness—it is not merely liberty from something but it is also liberty for the sake of something. And this “for the sake of something” is creativity in its purest form.

Creativity is one of the highest forms of consciousness, and at the same time it spills from the fountain of eternal youth.  Creativity is the youth of the soul and its power is bound up with the soul’s virginity. 

A Gift From & For God   

Creativity cannot be aimless and objectless.  It is an ascent and therefore supposes loftiness, which means creativity rises from the world to God.  It does not move along a flat surface in endless time but ascends with eternity. Every creative act of ours is in relation to other people—an act of love, of pity, of helping others to heal, of peacemaking. Not only does it have a future but also it is eternal.

The greatest secret of existence is the satisfaction that is not felt by those who make demands and sacrifices, but by those who give and make sacrifices in the realm of creativity. In those people alone the energy of delight and life does not fail, and this is the precise meaning of creativity. 

This is where I failed recently, my cockiness got the best of my creativity and I almost flushed everything I had built down the toilet of doubt.  I do consider myself lucky that after praying, God wouldn’t allow me to treat myself with such atrocities that spawned from the slavery of my own mind. I’m not sure why I felt the need to ruin it all, but I also haven’t the time to recollect it all.  In short, it could be chalked up to an inner dividedness.  I did abandon myself to my own devices instead of leaving things up to God.   

Liberty Of Love

Creativity is meant to push forward, so let us move north towards positivity.  The positive mystery of life is to be found in love, in sacrificing, giving, and creating love.  All creativity is love and all love is creative.  If you want to receive, then give.  If you want to obtain satisfaction, do not seek validation, never think of it again and forget the word altogether.  If you want your words to acquire the potency to make a difference in the world, manifest those words, and pass them on to others.

We are all skeptic with this idea that love is an emotion only felt between two people.  But love is a universal energy, a catching force handed down from the grace of God’s gift to us all, that being creativity. To be grateful, to hope, to believe, to be forgiving and to have faith in the path that lay ahead, is to accept God’s love and carry it in your soul, whole-heartedly and creatively.  This is the liberty of love in its purest form within life and the everlasting pursuit of happiness.  And we see this in the following scripture. 

“Am I not free to do what I please”

Matthew 20:15

Are these not Christ’s words? It seems that they, too, contain the secret of all joy, because there is no joy without liberty and these words contain the truth that make us free to love unconditionally and creatively.  To accept them for what they justly mean is to enter into the infinite liberty of God. To acknowledge these words is to love them and live by them.  To truly accept them is to love One and to love all.

The Creative Spirit 

Where the Spirit of God is, there is liberty.  Where there is liberty, there is the Spirit of God and grace.  Grace acts upon liberty and cannot act upon anything else. The enslaved mind cannot receive grace and grace will not affect it.  The enslaved mind will recognize liberty but only for the sake of urging it into the obedience of manmade law, and not in any way staying obedient to the law of His cosmic dance.

Liberty, then, is a talent given to us by God and not by man.  Liberty is an instrument of creativity to work with.  It is the tool with which we build our own lives with His freedom, and our own happiness.  Our true liberty is something that must never be sacrificed, for if we sacrifice it we renounce God himself.  As much as I would like to attack the current state of society on certain things pertaining to liberal beliefs I have chosen not to succumb to that impulse because the message of this post speaks loud and clear.

It is only the false spontaneity of impulse, the pseudo liberty of sin that is to be sacrificed.  Our true liberty must be defended with life itself for it is the most precious element in our being.  It is through liberty that God created us, constituted in His divine image of creation.

The truth is plain to see if you look with open eyes.

We may say with certainty that creativity is life-in-itself, and so is love, as is the contemplation of God and the spiritual world.  Creativity is a wild mind with a wandering eye that carries the torch of the soul.

In the end love laughs at all that is temporal through creativity, because pure love is the doorstep to eternity, and he who loves without condition is knocking on the door that leads to God and His eternal promise, and before anything can happen to him, God will have already drawn him over the sill to Heaven and closed the door behind him and he won’t bother to worry about the wilderness burning on the other side of himself because he knows nothing but love.

—BeLove

Plain As Hell

One little spark can set a whole wilderness on fire. Just a spark.

Let the wolf delight, to howl and to bite. For God has made him so.

—BeLove

If energy is delight and enthusiasm is beauty, the wild depressive knows more about delight and beauty than anyone else.  Who else has so much energy and exuberance?  I believe the psyche fleeces a certain strategy to increase depression. Isn’t it Freud who said, that happiness is nothing but the remission of pain? The more pain—the more intense the happiness that follows.  But there is a prior origin to this, and the psyche—it does create hell on purpose.

On Purpose

All life is, is pondering between then and now, between birth and death, seeking answers to the most influential questions.  Such brooding doesn’t always make us any saner, and some may sink into drink, when the answers they seek drive them a little too wild.  It has always been me versus madness in my life, and madness has proven much stronger over salvation.  But not this time around and I will tell you why.

All this thinking, writing, with it’s feeling sometimes seems to count for nothing. It’s naught but an attack behind the allied lines of my mind—seeking the beauty of my thoughts—and as of late the only effect is except it has worn me out.   The noble idea of being a poet or a writer has made me feel at times like a clown or a fool. Maybe humanity no longer needs art and inner miracles.  It already has so many outer ones.  

So before I can carry on with the green and lovely shades of this wilderness within, I must venture into the darkest and most arid corner of my mind.  This is the only way that I feel like I am being genuine with you all. It is true that the only way out is through.  

Sure I could fake it and pretend that all I saw was graced with gloriousness, but over the past week it hasn’t been that way for me.  I hold close with confidence that by getting this off my chest, the path will clear itself of my well-worn mind’s debris.  It is time we talk about hell.  

Horrors Of Hell

Hell is the state of the soul powerless to come out of it’s prideful self; it is absolute self-centeredness, dark and evil isolation, and the final incapacity to love.  It means to be engulfed in an agonizing moment, which yawns with the abyss of infinity, so that the pain plays repetitively in the mind, while stabbing sharp through the heart.  Hell creates and organizes the separation of the soul from God. 

Hell is not God’s action upon the soul, retributive and punitive as that action may be—it is the absence of any action of God upon the soul, the soul’s incapacity to open itself up to God’s influence and its complete severance from God.  

God’s Mercy

The horror of hell is not something inspired by thoughts that God’s judgment will be severe and merciless.  God is love and mercy, and to give one’s fate to Him means to overcome this horror. In reality the horror is to have our own fates left in our own hands.  It is not what God will do to us, but what we will do to ourselves.  Hell means that we don’t fall into the Hand of God but instead we abandon ourselves to our own devices.

Every soul is sinful and subject to darkness and cannot by its own power come into the light.   The soul will feel inclined to pass into the twilight of dreams written upon semi-existence.  Its own free efforts cannot bring it to true and being.  It is in the essence of Christianity that we see this designed by these two scriptures.

“The Son of man is not come to destroy men’s lives, but to save them.”

Luke 9:56

“I came not to judge the world, but to save the world.”

John 3:17

The coming of Christ should be seen as not an outward threat of judgment, but an inward recognition that salvation rests within—salvation from the hell that we have so maliciously spent our entire lives preparing for ourselves.   The coming of Christ is the turning point for the soul of man, which builds up the Kingdom of God instead of digging for the depths of hell. 

 Salvation Within

Without Christ, our Savior, the Kingdom of God is unattainable for man.  Man’s moral efforts alone do not bring him to it.  If there is no Christ and no change of heart connected with Christ, hell in some shape or form is inevitable, for man cannot help but create it.  The essence of salvation is liberation from our own hell, to which all creatures naturally gravitate.  

Hell will not come into eternity, it will remain in time, and hence it cannot be eternal.  One of the voices that howls through my soul tells me that all are doomed to hell, because all more or less doom themselves to it. But this to the fullest extent is reckoning without Christ.  The other voice that speaks from the goodness of my heart, says that all must be saved, that man’s true freedom must be enlightened from within, without any violence being done to it—and that comes through Christ and is salvation.

In the midst of this spiritual awakening, I no longer think of the devil as outside the human soul, he is engrained in it and means that it is abandoned in itself.  Christ frees the soul from the devil.  Hell, without question exists, yet it is revealed to us in experience, and it may be our own lot. Hell belongs to time and is temporal. Everything that is in time is temporal. The victory of eternity over time leaves hell and its so called powers behind.

Hell’s Intimidation

The idea of hell has been turned into an instrument of intimidation, of religious and moral terrorism. Our real horror is not in the threats of a transcendental Divine judgment, but in the immanent working out of human destiny from which all Divine action has been excluded.  The most merciless committee is that of one’s own conscious; it brings with it torments of hell, division, loss of wholeness, a fragmentary existence.  The only judgment God shall enforce upon us is a downpour of grace upon the creature. His judgment establishes true realities and makes them all secondary to the heights of Heaven, not in a permissible but a metaphysical sense.  

I now see something hideous and morally revolting in the idea of eternal torments as retribution for the sins of a short moment of life.  Eternal damnation as a result of things done in such a short period of time, known as life, is one of the most disgusting manmade nightmares.  But one thing is unquestionably true:  after death the soul rich in Christ goes on to Heaven, the soul that never believed in God’s Power goes on to some other plane of being, as it lived before birth.

The Answer Is Christ

The life in our world between birth and death is merely a crumb compared to our destiny, incomprehensible when regarded by itself, apart from the eternal purpose of a man. It is Christ alone that can conquer the horror of hell as a manifestation of the creature’s freedom. This is the last and final demand that dictates the conscious—to have the conscious and the courage to direct all the power of your creative spirit through Christ to free everyone from their own hell. And the rise of hope in this belief is the only way through this wilderness within.

Author’s Note

It has been a rough couple of weeks. My depressed mind has been taken over by the grind and has been working overtime with work and all else in between. But 2019 is going to be here in the blink of an eye and I will be spending a few days in one of my favorite places in the world, Alabama Hills, just outside of Lone Pine, California.  I have to leave town with just my camera, my tent, my bible, God, and me.  Once again, I have to find myself.  I must take this beast within and seek some holy waters for the sake of baptismal purposes.

As Christ said, the seed in the ground must die.  To be a seed in the ground of one’s very life is to dissolve into that ground in order to become fruitful.  One disappears into love, in order to “be Love”

I am finally getting somewhere with the book, so with that being said, this blog will only be posting once a week on Friday’s, starting this Friday.  Hope you all had a merry everything and have a happy always. Thanks for stopping by. Til the next time.

-BeLove

Words Of Encouragement

The use of our communicative skills is the hinge on which the door into our souls swings open to reveal our true spirit.

I would be lying if I didn’t say the past few days have been a struggle.  This struggle has nothing to do with spiritual sobriety.  It is in the feeling of writing where I have come to discover true struggle hiding in the shadows.

While I have you all here, allow me to introduce you to “writer’s block.”  It has been awhile since I’ve had the pleasure of its company. While I am impressed with it’s stubborn efforts, please allow me to show “it” the door. It’s the one that leads away from this creative room I call my head.  As the “block” walks on toward the inevitability of another day down this path, the fountain of encouraging words flows again.

Encourage Others

Words are meant to encourage and edify, and as much as the first paragraph may not have encouraged you. It did encourage my flow of creativity.   It is now my hope that the following words may encourage you.

Did you know that we speak about twenty thousand words a day?  Words flow with ease from our mouths and carry quite the impact on those who surround us.  But how much of that flow is fulfilling God’s sole purpose for edifying those to whom you are speaking?  How many of your words reflect pride, rather than the motivated gospel of humility?

Power Of Words

Our words are powerful and our words matter.  “Death and life are in the power of the tongue” (Proverbs 18:21).  It is God Himself who has nourished our voice with strength and significance.  He designed our communication skills with such power for one primary purpose.  Do you know what that purpose is?

In a profound passage from Paul to the Ephesians, Paul provides an abundance of understanding about our words and their God-ordained goal—both what it is, and clearly what it is not.  

 
“Let no corrupting talk come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for building up, as it fits the occasion, that may give grace to those that hear.”

Ephesians 4:29

Do you see how meticulously this knowledge applies to our words?  Paul is saying plain as day that there is a certain kind of communication that’s never to come from our mouths, and another kind that should be in everything we say.  That’s how far and wide the reach of this knowledge really is.  Paul is employing a contrast here to teach us all—the prior Scripture is a “not that/but this” statement, which clearly shows us the kind of words God forbids as well as the kind of words He commands.

Degenerating Words 

The words that God forbids are “corrupting talk.”  Are you familiar with talk that corrupts?  It is a daily temptation and it rests in the tendencies of us all. Corrupting words bring degeneration to a soul—they are words portrayed by fatality instead of words that that bring life to the conversation within a soul.  In the passage from Paul, God has wisely forbid us from communicating with others in ways that are detrimental to them—words that degrade and defile someone.  

Corrupting talk is a harmful form of communication; it refers to any talk that deters from growth in godliness.  These tortorous words can and will hinder the cultivation of godly relationships and they have deadening effects on other souls.  It is in the nature of such violent communication to penetrate and spread cancerous through another soul, and these words “grieve of the Holy Spirit.” Therefore no such talk shall be allowed in the house of God.  There shall be no decaying words spoke of any kind, in any form, at any time, by anyone. 

From the perspective of God, how many of your twenty thousand words each day carry the characteristics of corruption?

Uplifting Words

Words are intended to communicate with encouragement.  Our words are to edify—they should “build up.” This goes for all forms of communication. In Paul’s speech we are definitely directed to communicate only those words that edify.  What are edifying words?  

One of many edifying words, Love.

They are not simply polite words.  And they certainly aren’t words that just flatter, nor are they spoken in the superficial sense that is centered on the self-exalting of a man’s pride.  

True edifying words are words that reveal character and a promise through the activity of God.  They are words that are centered at the cross and they spill from the bottom of a heart.  They are rooted in Scripture and they identify with good-natured dynamics and the presence of God.  

Words must communicate the evidence of grace that you observe in others.  They are words that flow from the humbled heart.  Since we are commanded to communicate only through kind words that build another soul, we should see the blessing of positive communication as a right and not necessarily just a privilege.  But what a privilege it is to be instructed so sweet.   

Since Scripture enlightens us that God is at work in every soul that has been regenerated, we have the joy of bringing to the attention of every soul in this world how we perceive God to be at work in their lives, we are able to discern how God is active in their lives, and draw attention to that, then we celebrate it be delivering these words of hope to another soul.  

Now we have touched another soul by building them up and edifying them.  It is not only our privilege but also our responsibility to speak to others with words of encouragement and edification. 

Words Of Purpose

In Paul’s message we are also instructed that communication always be purposeful, and that purpose is that it may give grace to those that hear.  The biblical purpose is that in every interaction of communication you have, is that the person who hears you will receive grace.  

We are all in need of grace. There’s no one that you know who doesn’t need more of it.  And God has so composed society that when we are gathered amongst each other with casual conversation we should both deliver grace and receive grace with the exchange of edifying words that lift the spirits of all.  

The Takeout

Corrupting words are the fruits of pride and they reveal pride, while words that edify are the fruits of the heart that have been regenerated by the gospel of Christ and evidence that a heart has been humbled by the gospel, and that the Hand of God is still nourishing the spirit of love.  

When you examine your words and what you speak you discover your heart and soul.  The use of our communicative skills is the hinge on which the door into our souls swings open to reveal our true spirit.  Pride is something that is not easily cultivated in the garden of humbling communication.

I hope you all have a blessed holidays and practice using edifying words on those “relatives” that drive you to the brink of insanity, just remember that one of their many graceful attributes is quite simple, through thick and thin they are your family.

—BeLove

*I leave you all with what I’ve always considered my favorite “Christmas” song.

Written Confession

If I am to be a writer or a poet, I must always put on paper what I have become.

It may sound simple, but it is no easy task.

Hello.  First, let me thank you for stopping by.  Now where were we?  

I wrote the last post because I wanted to prove that we all have doubt.  Doubt in ourselves, doubt in God from time to time.  Hell, I have doubted God and myself most of my life. This doubt is similar to smoke, it will cloud your judgment of yourself, cloud your thoughts, cloud God’s purpose and His will for you.  

This smoke-filled doubt seems to be the absence of God.  Yet, God is still very much around.  He has just chosen to seem absent. But through the fog there is always a light and it burns within you, and it is God. You see he isn’t absent; those clouded thoughts are just the absence of faith.  I will now share with you why I believe this to be true.

Speak The Truth

My last post almost didn’t happen.  I was close to throwing in the towel when it came to writing again.  I almost put the pen down for good this time.  I was in a bad spot over the past week and a half.  It was all self-imposed from my obtrusive ego.  My head had swollen past the point of no return.  I wanted to quit writing out of pure defiance

Keep going.

The renewal date for this blog was coming up and I said to myself, just let it all go, just let it collapse like everything else in your life.  Sit back and “maybe” write the book and forget about the message while allowing mayhem to take the checkered flag from motivation.  My heart and soul were both vitally exhausted from moving constant in opposite directions of each other trying like hell to keep up with my mind.  

Don’t Doubt

And you know why? Because I doubted everything, and when I chose to do that I doubted Him.  I didn’t pray deeply for a business week worth of days, I didn’t get lost in the gardens of scripture for an extended duration.  I walked away towards the darkness of insolence from the path He had laid with the light of deliverance.  My soul had succumbed to the selfishness of pride.  

So come Monday morning, my day off, I awoke and I made it a point to speak loud and clear to the emptiness around me.  I spoke at length with Him about my dependence of Him, I begged for His mercy. And as I said before, when talking to myself, I have come to find that I am lot happier rather than listening to myself. 

So the day went it’s way and things were happy.  The kid and I played and created to his heart’s delight.  I was asked a million and one questions.  That plus one, was the best one yet.  “So Dad, did you know that God made me?” My soul stood silent and looked above and through the flesh, we winked and then I looked to him and all I could do was smile and reply, “Yes.”  

A creative mind is of a thriving kind.  All his idea. 

The following morning in the same empty room, I repeated my need for Him and His mercy, but this time I promised to start seeing the grace in all things as opposed to their shortcomings. The reason because spawned from my child’s question.  

Feeling Grace

This is something that we all do, instead of seeing the grace in something we look for the fault.  For instance, you have a child who has asked you the most mind-numbing but silly questions about farts and chickens all morning but then by the grace of God and who he really is, He reels you in to a place you have never been, a peace you’ve never felt.  That’s not just seeing, but feeling the grace of Him in all things.  

That night after the kid had gone to his mother’s house.  I was still going to quit, so I echoed my merciful dependence for Him, but this time I asked Him to give me the strength to see His will through, to allow me to see the grace of my surroundings.  I then picked up the bible and turned to Job.  Before I knew it the pen had found its way back into my hand. The words were written as follows the scripture.

He speaks in dreams, in visions of the night, when deep sleep falls on people as they lie in their beds.  

Job 33 : 15

And again the words they spilled from my flooded soul.  

Where I call home.


Allow God To Move Through You

These shades of mountain they glow beneath Your crescent moon, these stars they sprinkle my sight with a grace that shimmers of You.  And here You are moving through me with Your capricious wind, showing me what I should do.  Winter is in full force, and Your skies have been so grey, but every evening the inversion burns off and there You are so bright and beautiful.  This darkness and its significant other, that our flesh calls faith, is something we should forever see the light in.  So in the darkness of my doubt, let’s give them something to talk about.

Sometimes I feel that I should quit writing altogether, as some sort of gesture poised defiant.  In any case, I hope to stop thinking so much, because it has become impossible for me to stop writing altogether.  There is no way I can stop now, these words they help to heal, and it is possible that it is not only me.  Perhaps I will I write until death, and maybe even longer. Maybe I’ll write while in purgatory, except that I hope You and I can arrange some miraculous last inning heroics over my sins, and we shall leave purgatory in its own dugout, while you and I celebrate beneath fountains of champagne.  

And it seems to me that writing is not an obstacle in front of spiritual perfection in my own life, but sometimes it seems to have become conditional on which my perfection depends. Such is the mind of a poet.  If I am to be a writer or a poet, I must always put on paper what I have become. It may sound simple, but it is no easy task.  

To be a good person, and to remain myself, and to write about it:  to put myself down on paper, and now upon the world wide web, in such a situation, with simplicity and integrity, masking nothing, confusing no issue: this is difficult, because I am at times mixed up with illusion and attachment.  These too must be written, but how?  Without exaggeration, repetition, and useless emphasis.  That’s how.  No need for howling through the ears of anyone but You, who will always see the depth of my foolishness.  To be frank without boring You, it is kind of a crucifixion.  It requires so much honesty that is beyond my nature.  So let it be said, it must come from You.

Amen. 

The results of God moving through us are more or less a transparent holiness through the lens of Him. Creativity is the very act of God moving through man.  By living, praying and writing in the light of God, I have lost myself entirely by becoming public domain via Him.  

If you take anything away from this post, let it be as follows.  

We are all lost the majority of our lives, most of us have evolved to ignore our purpose and have become akin to just existing.  I was one of those people and I almost was again.  But believe me, we are here for the purpose of making the world a better place, via love, faith, and most of all hope through God.  

Within each and every one of us is a place called Calvary and the mind within it, has the ability to be and believe in whatever it wants to.  But the resource of abundant life has masked itself as debt and suffering, when true wealth has forever been funded by faith in God. 

This is why creativity is the most important natural resource that God has ever given us.  

And then they were whole—welcome back soul. 

-BeLove    

 

Dirty Laundry

The point of writing my name to you is that I see who you are, you see who I am…and that’s what it’s about.

Here is but a post that is two years overdue, call it an extended bio if you choose.  And it is true, today marks the second anniversary of the beginning of this little creative outpost.  The point of writing my name to you is that I see who you are, you see who I am…and that’s what it’s about.

My name is Ryan Love. I am 41 years young. My nickname is Buddy out west and Bubba back home, hence the Be. Home being the hidden, paradoxical beauty of Alabama. I now live just down a mountain pass from the majestic splendor of Lake Tahoe in beautiful Carson Valley, Nevada.  I moved out West sixteen years ago today as well.  

A loving and God-fearing family raised me.  My mother, bless her soul, with her ability to harness all of our shit, mainly mine, still amazes me.   Though my siblings are significantly younger, we have managed to stay close, even with the age difference and me being so far away from home.

My beautiful family just outside of Yellowstone.

I am a single dad to a four-year-old son walking away from a collapsed marriage that I had a strong hand in tearing down. Now I am finding my purpose through God.  I am learning how to live alone with Him half the week, the other half I am trying to be the best father to him that I can be. 

I was once considered an alcoholic—I for one may not have been, but then again that’s what I perceive from within. I was always one to skirt the idea of moderation, and that is in itself a glaring sign of alcoholism. As I stand today, without staggering, I have almost learned how to master my self-control, ‘tis but the season though, for loneliness to creep up on the right thing to do.  

Nowadays I am a Chef in the casino industry, so temptation does flirt with me on a nightly basis, and it is quite the task shaking myself loose from it on those Friday nights when the adrenaline drip is more or less at a steady stream. But the beast within has found purpose and unity with God especially when he gets to push around this pen.  And it is true that once I let the wolf in, he has become my greatest teacher.  

I first realized that I had a knack for writing when I was in Journalism back in high school—many, many moons ago. I covered the sports beat for the high school paper because I was a bit of a jock and I could spell, which back in those days didn’t always go hand in hand.  But then I started to dabble with illegal substances and my dream of making it to the big leagues of life and baseball fell apart.  As much as I said no to drugs, they never listened.  So let me be a lesson, don’t do drugs.  

When not working, my hobbies include writing, reading, snowboarding, exploring God in the wilderness around me, photography, fly-fishing, and creating memories and art with my child.

The weight of the world on my shoulders.

I have questioned authority at every crossroad in my life. I have always said that I knew the rules but the rules did not know me. This sometimes breathes true even today. I have those who have egged me on, and of course myself.  One could say my friends and I were nothing but a bunch of heathens, such is adolescence I guess. But we have a bond between us that will last a lifetime and maybe more.  A bond that will never be broken.  

I tried my hand at college, but much to no avail because I was too smart for school. Oh good ole fashioned hindsight. It’s worth the mention that I do not regret a damn thing, well maybe one or two things, but that’s neither here nor there. The memories that haven’t faded are still as precious to me as the moment they were created.

Then I fell head over heels in love with a girl. Sure I’d been through the ringer with cherry-popping puppy loves, but this one touched my soul. Next came the heartbreak and the words they rained like poetic tears from the depths of my being. These words were not very well situated in the lyrical sense, still debatable whether they are nowadays. Nonetheless, my soul had finally come to the center stage of me. Then it vanished for a long time, the beast, my ego came front and center, with no intent on feeding the soul. 

Opening up my soul. 

In the midst of my efforts of dealing with heartbreak, higher learning, hallucinogenics, and a Pink Floyd obsession, I started writing in the sense of reality. I fell in love with the Beat Generation: Kerouac, Ginsberg, Cassady, and di Prima.  They were all so transcendental and unique, with all of the philosophical and Zen undertones it was hard to not fall in love with them. Then I read “On The Road” by Kerouac and my soul fell sick with the travel bug. I traveled far and wide looking for a home away from home.  

At this stage in my life I considered myself agnostic. It wasn’t that I didn’t believe, as much as I didn’t want to believe one way or another, sort of like taking the high road. And I really to this day do not know why. Sure I had a sturdy moral compass that would fall out of whack from time to time, but for some reason my ego thought intellect was more reasonable than God.  More on this down the road.

The Fountain Of Youth. Lake Tahoe. Surrounded by little hints of Heaven.


Then came my second taste of spiritual awakening, or maybe it was a crisis, maybe both are one in the same. Who knows? It was in 2008. I took some classes at the local community college, and finally got around to reading “Heart Of Darkness” and I became consumed with the elements of good and evil within man. I couldn’t stop writing.  My writing evolved at a rapid rate this time around.  Something was opening up within me. 

From here I turned to an infatuation with the Donner Party, so much so that I wrote a screenplay about it. The chaos, the demons of hunger, the capability of what man would do to survive blew my mind wide open. The events that surrounded that winter of 1847, made my mind move in directions it never had, what if we were living in Hell?

This is when I first felt a newfound purpose through my own doubt and God made sure that I felt Him as he started coursing through my veins.

As soon as my soul would bark back, the beast would only tighten his grip, choking the life out of my softness. Then I gave up my passion of writing because my head was swelling instead of moving in linear directions. The beast couldn’t handle it without the soul, and didn’t feel the need to collaborate.  And I was still questioning God and his antics. From there I put down the pen and decided to focus on my career as a Chef, being a Chef feeds the ego.

Then came 2016, my child was two and a half. God had very much proved his existence through the eyes of my child.  But I became sick at the hate that was dividing our blessed country in half. And yes I sort of blamed God.  This is when I first felt a newfound purpose through my own doubt and God made sure that I felt Him as he started coursing through my veins.

The reason why I will never give up on Love or my dreams.

I could no longer stand pat within the herds of ignorance and mediocrity. I felt that maybe my way with words could plant seeds that would bloom into hope and salvation, something that made love seem not so distraught and grow into something more beautiful than the world had ever seen.  After all what a man sees in the world, he carries in his heart.

Then came a vessel out of nowhere that showed me the true light of God’s work. This vessel gave flight to a new me, and readjusted my system of beliefs. I felt a creative spark that I had never knew existed. Sure being a Chef came with avenues upon avenues of creative effort, from managing different personalities, to creating specials, to setting the standards for the simplicity of a kitchen’s flow. But something was different with this creative spark from writing, to photography; my soul had found its home within the walls of creative gusto.

Always looking for God’s light through the lens of all things.

I have come to find it humbling that the wilderness within the eighteen inches from my head to my heart is the purpose of my journey in life. And I am humbled that you all still listen.  And I have learned that I am much happier talking to myself, rather than listening to myself.  Try it.  It works.

 

 It is in the darkness of faith at the foot of the cross that the light will always flicker.


Now here I am still fighting my inner demons, trying my damndest to keep the beast on a leash, hoping to mind my head, and surrender my heart to the power of God’s Love, and just maybe the consistency of me watering my own seed through prayer and devotion will breathe consistent with my purpose while these words with their rooted message of hope, love, and faith for all mankind shall forever spring from the bottom of my heart.  And now every day I awake by acknowledging my dependence for God above and my need for His mercy. 

Recently I was saved at my family church back home, but I still have a long and winding path ahead. It is in the darkness of faith at the foot of the cross that the light will always flicker.  And the reason why I feel this way is as follows.

A picture is worth a thousand words.

Every time we look at the cross Christ seems to say, “I am here because of you, your sin, your curse, your debt, your death, I am here for you.  Nothing in the universe cuts us down to size like the cross.  We all have self-inflated views of ourselves, especially in the self-righteous state, until we have visited a place called Calvary. It is there at the foot of the cross, that we shrink to our true size.” If anything speaks the truth it starts with minding your head.

One more thing you may not have known about me. This band Widespread Panic, they are very much a part of me, I have traveled all corners of this land to see them, I have made friends of a lifetime through the most hospitable scene behind a traveling circus of music.  And even though panic is the one thing that is widespread in this world, it is an honest tune with a lingering lead that has taken me this far, and will always leave me wondering. 

This is a story of me. And who knows maybe you may come to find out a little about yourself as I find me.  

Godspeed.

-BeLove

Powder Keg

Love is a wildfire—it burns all but itself, it destroys what is false, and renews what is true.

The fire of love for all souls that are loved by God can and will explode within you like the fire of God’s love—it is the same kind of love.  It burns you up with a hunger for the mystical happiness, first for those that are close to you, then of people you barely know, and last but not least, for everyone on God’s green earth.  Love has the power, the energy, to ravage hate forever in the beat of a heart. Love is a wildfire—it burns all but itself, it destroys what is false, and renews what is true.

This fire slowly consumes you with a desire that is not directed in the immediacy of action, but rather to God.  And in the sudden serenity of this burning desire you are conveyed to prayer first, rather than to action, or rather, action seems to accompany prayer and with desire, as if of its own accord.

You will not always think much of what you are to do, or to write for all souls—it just sort of happens when the hunger for God carries you away.  This hunger is exactly the same as the hunger for your own personal union with God, but now it includes someone else, and it is for God’s sake above all, though one should not aim nor detach, for or from the task at God’s Hand.

Here is a bit of hunger, and it is a direct reference to you all as a collective group, a group that is established as a representative who is individual, who might I add, is real. In this hunger is a vacuum of pain and suffering, but there is also joy and it is borderline blissful, and somehow it is complete with the conviction that God wants to and will answer all of your prayers.

Sometimes you get the feeling that when this desire for the love of all souls carries you away, God is commencing to shower all of His love upon you like some transcendent waterfall glowing with all that you need—almost like He’s overwhelming you with some honey drip of spiritual synchronicity.

You will find you are no longer worried about your own needs, but instead absorbed in the nuisance of desire for the bliss of that soul—that soul—or that one.  It must always distinctive and material.  It can never be abstract.

But it does not always have to be this way, you can lose sight of them all in God and pray for them as well or better perhaps, but it is still a sweet spot to be swept with the flames of this hunger for all souls, and then comes that strange mystical synch, as we all attain riches of joy from Him.  It makes you want to sing—songs will bubble up from your soul with effervescent joy and smother you with happiness.  And yes sometimes there is an anxiousness as if your heart would soon burst, giving birth to the whole world.

And He said to him, “Truly, I say to you today you will be with me in Paradise.”

Luke 23 : 43

I hope you enjoy your day, it is a powder day and we must go.

Yours Truly—

BeLove


The Task At Hand

And it is now that I see
the way You built for me.

A wise king winnows the wicked;

and drives the threshing wheel over them.

Proverbs 20 : 26

I will always walk

bound by the perpetuity

of two eternities—

one supposed the future

another once called the past

along this here eternal path.

 

Yet it is now that I see

the way You built for me.

Where my feet

they aim to meet

with an upright stride

as I walk away from yesterday’s pride.

 

It is true; it is You that I see

in the dawn of this coming light

and beneath Your glorious sight

it is my soul

You fill; for it feels so whole

as I bask within

this heavenly harmony.

 

So it is in this moment

in which I choose to spend

where I’ll leave it to the nick of time

should I find a hint of heaven

while I walk this endless line.

 

And never shall I ever

look at yesterday

nor upon tomorrow too,

But in this here with its now

or in the present,

I guess it leans upon

whichever way the moment went.

 

Yet instead of guess

allow me a promise to profess.

I now know You built this path

the one that spins with progress

like a wheel—I will turn it around

while I cover whatever ground

until it is me that I am certain I have found.

 

And it is this—that is all I can ask

within the mystery You gave my life

where so soon shall it all come to pass

as I look upon Your coming task.

BeLove © 2018


 

 

Rambled With Love

Love shoves me around this sanctuary of life; it recoils from within like a celestial gong as it reverberates within your soul.

Love brings us around. Love guides us drifted throughout the day.  Love, love, love, it lifts us up when feeling down.  Love walks with two steps upon the ground and four steps in, it sails with the wind.  It is love. It is solace.  But I do not care if it is solace.  I am no longer attached to solace.  I love God and that is why love will always carry me around wherever I choose to go.  I do not pay much attention to anything anymore if it is lacking in the realm of His love.  I haven’t the time for anything else but love.

And when the time clock of toil rings within my ears, it is like pulling teeth trying to make myself shift with the grind of life all because of love, this secret love, hidden love, opaque love, down in the depths of me and all around me, where I won’t talk about, where I don’t care to talk about.  And anyways, I don’t have the time let alone the energy to consider such trivial matters.

I only have time for the divinity of eternity, which is just another way of saying love, love, and more love.  Maybe a bit more common sense would snap me out of this, but love has always been seen as spotless through the mirror of clarity, and this I’ll always tell you.  I am not attached to it (one would hope) but it is love and it pierces with tenderness through the core of my being, where it is stamped soft upon the bottom of my heart.

Love shoves me around this sanctuary of life; it recoils from within like a celestial gong as it reverberates within your soul.  And I must be honest—love is the only thing that gives this heart of mine the gift that continues to tick.

Love radiates the way everything looks today.  The way it was up early this morning painting the dawn with shades of a bluebird.  These mountain peaks, they speak lovely in the silence of snowfall.  And through this patch of fog, or is it a cloud, or may it be smoke if You will, but it is love, and right now it is all I choose to see for You are here with me.

The boy, my child, he bounces brisk through the crackling snow, each of his footsteps symbolic for the fire sizzling within the comforts of the beast.  His thousandth question within the hour stumps me with a selfless attention and just like that the beast is gone.  He’s off seeking the answer somewhere buried in the depth of a childhood memory.  The boy he brings a balance to the beast, he keeps him bustling wild and on his toes.  I hear him sing a song under his breath, though hidden by the ruffling leaves, I begin to see, to hear, to sense the man he will grow to be within the love of You that now blooms in me.

This is the way things have come to be after prayer, and speaking of You while having a picnic with my child. Everything seems so mysterious yet simplified in Your Presence.  Your Son, Christ died for Love, not just in the collective sense, but within all senses, and even our very own sins, and this is the way that I shall write this, too. For once I feel whole because I am full with You.  You are the Love in everything I see as my own child has now taught me.

This is how “love” works, as I so often stood stoned by the choir of my thoughts, the less I worried about creating, the more possessed I became of Love.  There is a valuable lesson to be taught in the wealth of being poor in love.

Oh love, why can’t you leave me alone?  This is but a question built rhetorical in meaning: so please for the sake of Heaven don’t leave me alone.

At all times we must cooperate with love in His house, and His love sets a fast pace even in the first mile of the marathon, and if you don’t keep up, you may stumble and fall far behind.  And yet any speed is too slow for love—and no speed is too fast for you if only you would allow His love to lift you off your feet—after that you have to sail the “whole” way.  But it is only in our dual nature that we choose to come down from cloud nine and just walk instead, such is patience one would guess.

Allow me to be poor in the Light of You.  I’ve had a tough stretch of doubt, my thoughts twisting and turning, too much, as usual—such is the mind of a creative—always producing problems out of reality’s thinnest of air. This business sometimes burns me, and so I seek some proof.

Be exalted in your strength in the Lord; we will sing and praise your might.

Psalm 21 : 13

I am all dried up of desire and can only think of one thing—I shall stay put by this fire of You that burns so deep inside me.

These demons, my faults, my desire have all run dry, and yes my soul has softened like a wax the closer I am drawn to the candle of You.  We have come a long way turning the beast into creative energy, these shadows into support, my fear into fuel, my failures into kindling, my weakness into strength.  Let us not waste these agonies of life.  Let us use this pain to recycle all hearts with the Spirit of Love.

Amen.

-BeLove