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    

 

A Prayer Wild

The wind blows where it wishes and you hear the song of it, but do not know where it comes from and where it is going; so is everyone who is born of the Spirit.

John 3 : 8

High noon has long passed and I can feel the winds of twilight move through my soul.  I imagine it moves through me much the same as He moved through the first evening of creation.  The freedom of desolation that pours from my heart comes to find itself filled with His Spirit, and once again the Holy Ghost and I walk together beneath a setting sun leaving even Him smitten.

I stare in awe at the pastel lit sky and speak silent again.

As the darkness approaches, please allow me to bask in this higher light of you before I lose myself in this wilderness I call home.  I know that within You there is a light that I have yet to fathom, because there is no known knowledge of the light you truly exude upon a lost soul.  Yet what I feel seems so very real.

I understand that what you truly offer cannot be pinned down to any certain concept that I have complete knowledge of.  I do know that within the scripted garden of Your Word, I feel a peace within me I never knew existed, and for that I can’t acknowledge you enough.  It is also through the potency of prayer that I am starting to touch my dreams with my own two hands.

The wind blows where it wishes and you hear the song of it, but do not know where it comes from and where it is going; so is everyone who is born of the Spirit.

John 3 : 8

And as my hands cinch together with dovetail technique, I wish to truly encounter You as this darkness washes over the landscape of me.  In the simplicity of You, I see a light that isn’t bound by a medium in which channels us as one.

For there is no explanation of You, when the experience of You is all that I need to feel as You quietly testify Your love for me.  We are one; we have always been one, even though I didn’t see that until recently, and for that I hope You carry no hard feelings.

Yet it is in the union of Your light and my soul that I see a path start to clear; with You leading the way to the aforementioned Promised Land with the Spirit Of Christ in tow. The Son, Your only Son, that You suffered with grace through sacrifice—not just for You and I—but for all souls.

And for that I truly hope that all understand the truth in the meaning of sacrifice, because I don’t think that most have a firm grasp on what it means to truly sacrifice.  After all, everybody wants to go to Heaven to see You but nobody wants to die.  But let us speak on a deeper level of the Paradise that awaits further down this road.

It is in the simplicity of You, where all that is trivial in this life, becomes coherent in the uncharted waters of pure bliss.  It is in us that You have chosen to dwell and as for those of us who understand the simplicity of Your presence, let us forever imitate the Love of You. Whether that is via avenues of creativity or through the worship of your Gospel when testifying to You moving within us depends entirely upon which room you decide to carry us into.

But for those who don’t understand the depths of Your Love, please prepare them for the beast at bay, because you know as well as I do. Actually you know better than I do.  He is sitting back waiting to howl, scoping the battlegrounds, hunting down the hate—with none other than the presence of Your Love pouring into his heart.

And yes it is true, that in the sight of You, I know my purpose is trivial, but it is my purpose, You put it there, so as I have fallen so many times before, You have picked me up, and placed me where I needed to be.  I plead with You now to allow me the time, the inner peace, and the fashion to allow You to move through me in Your own way.  As I am awakening in You, and You in me, let us turn each other inside out, making this emptiness fill itself with the wisdom of Your vision and the purity of You—while giving them all a glimpse of Your cosmic dance.

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.

Jeremiah 29 : 11

Yet the fact does remain that You invite us to forget ourselves on purpose—to cast upon us a dreadful gravity that ascends upon Your wind and join You in the dance.  And now I see that it is our one true and upright purpose to continually seek You in all aspects of life.  And because of that I will forever testify in Your name.  And I thank you for showing me the light looming in this wilderness of me.  Amen.

Yours Truly,

BeLove