It Is After Midnight

It is after midnight. It is always after midnight in this part of my day. I mean for it to be ten or even nine but it is always after midnight. This is where I find myself challenged by the openess of the late hour and the finality of the day, going to bed, sleeping more hours upon recommendation by numerous who-saids of the highest authority. Nature or nurture come face to face with each other time and again.

My mind is brimming with thoughts ranging from the scientific to the depth of sorrow to the sublime to the spiritual and back round again. I cannot, for the life  of me, understand how I manage with despair and utter joy living together side by side with boredom, fear, apathy and a fierce nature that takes me by surprise. The answer, I believe, lies in the same answer that explains our universe and our eternity. God put all of it in motion and He holds it in motion for His reasons and His purposes. He also put me in motion, breathed life into me, created my every cell and set it all spinning and cavorting around in my head according to His reasons and His purposes. I believe this is what sustains me in the face of what appears to be certain calamity and also what sends my spirit spiralling towards the heavens on the days when joy takes her seat in my heart. The mystery of mysteries is that these two attributes can exist within seconds of each other or can carry the entire day on their own. Either way it remains that I have concluded; without His design, His intervention, His great and majestic love that I should die instantly from the enormity of Him living in me. It is also my belief that I, as His child, live with one foot here and one foot in my Father's House where there are many mansions. I constantly crave to go home while living here on this earth in my home. It is not melodrama. It is love. I yearn towards His love and His presence just as the flowers reach towards the sun, just as the trees stretch out their branches seeking His glory, bathing in His love. So it is that there are days when I go about my daily life with great anticipation expecting to come round the corner, see the door to "home", open it and step through to my Father's House. In my Father's House there are many mansions that He has prepared for His children. If it were not true He would not have said it was so. On that same day I also crave the hug of a grandchild, hope to serve someone, feel the Evil One pulling at me, drawing me back from my Father's House, illiciting a horror from me as I sense the awful power of his evil vortex spiralling down, down, down into the fires of Hades. But I, I am the Child of My Father Who Is In Heaven and I cry out "FATHER! HELP ME!" The vortex closes, the stench of the evil one fades away, my panic subsides and I abide in my Father's arms knowing beyond any doubt that one day I will open the door, walk through and live for all eternity in my Father's House.

Amen! and Amen!

A Song For The Week

Don't you love jumping around in puddles? I do and this dance and song make me happy!

Just A Little Something

Writing left me without so much as a good-bye. I sat here at the keyboard concentrating. I do stream of consciousness. It is difficult to write stream of consciousness when writing leaves town for awhile. No true value in forcing myself to flow when the stream has been temporarily dried up. So I sat here, mainly out of a bizarre compulsion to write for the sake of you the reader. Yes, that is neurotic and people pleasing and hilariously funny given the HUGE number of people who hit on blog in a month. I am a people pleaser more often than not even if there is only one other person than myself in my world. Awkward admission but a true one nonetheless. As it turns out my compulsion to post on this blog just to post on this blog was not enough to bring writing back home. That is until today, at this moment, right now moment. I said quite a few posts back that I was writing for me...to develop the discipline of writing. Sh! I know. If this is my idea of developing discipline how far of course was I when I began? And you are perceptive to, just that quickly, think that thought. Either I was long, long away from discipline and what I am doing in the blog is a true accomplishment for me or I am blowing smoke up someone's skirt when I say I want to build discipline but, I swear on a stack of books on a wide range of topics (kinda stacked) around my room, that I believed I would write regularly. Daily, as a matter of fact. Am I an underachiever? Do I even have a passion for any one thing in my life? Love comes and love goes or it fails and lurks around in my psyche. Love is a four letter word. Use your imagination to choose a four letter word. "Lake"? Love is a lake. I dunno. There is a poem in that statement. Love is grim. Now there is a concept I can wrap my mind around when the darkness and isolation of "poor me" settles in my heart.

Snippets

Owl not seen lately. God bless and keep Mr. Owl, please.

Cat meows in a way that sounds just like he is saying "out-t-t-t" "yeow"

When I hear classical music I become distracted because I choreograph dances during the music. In my mind I coach and arrange the dancers, the set, all of it and at times I allow myself to join in the scene.

Darn it! I am too sleepy to make sense. I'm going to bed.


Good night!