“See, I am doing something new! Now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? In the wilderness I make a way, in the wasteland, rivers” (Isaiah 43:19, New American Bible Revised Edition).
A Daily Devotional:
This diary of my daily prayers is dedicated, as a token of my life, to the praise and service of you, God Yahweh and Christ Jesus. These words are set down as psalms in pen and ink as a testimony of eternal love and as a deposit towards our heavenly inheritance in the eternal Kingdom to come, God Yahweh and Lord Jesus,
-In You do I put my trust.-
With faith, hope, and charity, only in You and for You do I seek to be. Only for You and Your glory, God Yah and Christ Jesus, love, Tyler Holy Ghost
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this lovely new day and for all the pain and misery beheld outside Your sheltering presence, for in the mystery of the Cross, all the wonders of Your majesty are made clear and all the divine joys, far beyond the realm of any earthly pleasures or satisfactions, of Your infinite presence are revealed.
Please, my Lords, help me to reject my feelings and favor Thy will, as in Spirit, not in the mortal baseness of my passionate, sentimental soul, but far above it, in Thy transcendent Being, Thy Holy Spirit, and in stride, we fulfill the urgings of the true heart, of Christ within the life of all mankind.
Please my Lords, help me to evermore endear and enjoin myself to You in Thy perfect mercy, for, as for me alone without You, I am but a wreck and infinite misery, and this, my Lord, is how I know I am meant for You; this, like the attraction of two poles of a magnet, is what brings us together as one, and this is how I know that I am but one half of your broken heart, destined for divine union and only complete as one with You, God Yahweh with Christ Jesus. -Love, Tyler Holy Ghost
Title: “Bewail the City of God”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this lovely new day of fresh new pain and limitless and divine death that is life in You. Please, my Lords, I implore You, kill me off the face of this earth and remove me from the wretchedness of this earth that knows You not, and release me from the torment of this godless people and this sinful society of wretched man and his wicked works.
There is not one heart among the souls of this people who seeks You or knows You or follows You like it ought, and to dwell in the midst of these heathens and hypocrites makes my soul cry out to You to take me from this place to be at one with You, and outside the reaches of this fallen race of man and all its errant, insipid, ego-driven ways.
“Behold the Lamb of God,” I shall bewail to deaf ears and empty rooms, as their hearts are closed off and far from You. “Behold the Lamb of God,” I shall bewail You, while we say in a single chorus, “Depart from Me, I know you not,” to the vacant space before our eyes. (For we are one.) Are we the only living soul left alive in this sunken earth of sinking zombies? “Behold the Lamb of God,” I shall bewail You, as You bewail me in my soul’s reflection from afar, “Blessed are eyes that see and ears that hear.” “Blessed are you when you are hated among men for my name’s sake.” “Blessed are the meek, and righteous, and lowly, and poor in spirit.” “Blessed are we, for we are the City of God.” The Beatitudes echo in resounding brilliance from within the Temple’s pearl-encrusted gate of meditative power and the focus of a fortified firmament, as with a sky-blue exhale the veil of incense parts like the Red Sea from before this burning, smoldering, fiery gaze. The Beatitudes echo resoundingly from within the Temple walls, for in the Kingdom of God in the City of Heaven, the halls are empty and the souls of man are barren exiles bound to the world of man.
The Beatitudes echo resoundingly in the City of God, for these rooms are empty, and from God the soul of man has taken leave to depart. “Blessed are You, blessed are You, blessed are we,” we sigh, as from a single tear of the Trinity, twelve pearls adorn her holy gates.
Title: “Flesh of my Flesh, Flame of my Flame”
“The man said: ‘This one, at last, is bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh; This one shall be called “woman,” for out of man this one has been taken’” (Genesis 2:23, New American Bible Revised Edition).
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this fresh new morning of divine inspiration and the silent reverence that speaks to the inward revelry of the heart at rest and at home in God; my love, my Lord, and my Savior.
I adjure Thee my Lords, Father and Son of the Almighty, Trinitarian Godhead heard on high, open my ears and quench my thirst in Thee, for it is You and You alone for Whom my soul longs, as I wait for You in the night hours, and upon Your footstep You will find me come morning, with sheaves of prayers in my hands, sown in tears but gathered in rejoicing, as for You the harvest of love notes is gathered, weighing down my alabaster arms no more than a thousand shekels’ weight of silver upon the earlobes of a marble statue—but this work of Your creation, this sentry bearing the fruit of keeping that last night’s watch with Christ in His agony, and falling not into the sleep that is forgetfulness of its God—this ivory figure waiting at Your doorstep is flesh of your flesh and blood of your blood, as torn from Your side I was like a rib from Adam or a branch from a Cross, flowering like the rod of Aaron with its almond blossoms in the menorah of pure gold lit purely for you—never to be extinguished.
For just outside the Holy of Holies that is Your heart, Your highest peak and Your deepest depth, Your heart of hearts and sacred core, and sacré cœur, I linger and watch for You, never to be extinguished, as this flame is that lightning within the dark cloud that is flame of Your flame and Spirit of Your Spirit.
This fire shall never burn out, for it burns too brightly to deny Your holy name and sacred truth, for we are one. This fire is flame of Your flame and heart of Your heart, and so we shall be found watching and waiting, for I am ever burning with love of Your love and holiness of Your holiness, to wait upon Thee and to serve You, my Lord my God—Husband to this bride and Crafter of the vessel of this Spirit. For shall the statue say to its Maker, “Why have you made me such,” when it is written in my heart that You are in me and I in You, with the indelible etching of a Master Artisan and Craftsman of the cosmos? The eternal Almighty echoes on hereafter, “I have placed my Spirit in you, blood of mercy from my side and water of redemption pouring forth in the baptism of the sacred Cross.”
Baptism by fire shall never be quenched even as I taste Your sweet clemency upon my thirsting lips—for I am flame of Your flame and love of Your love. “Finally, this is one of my own kind,” the voice upon the Cross breathes heavily, “and it shall find its rest in Me.” With one last sigh, You gave up the ghost, so that in letting it go, in love proven true by testing in the fire to be of purest gold and perfect Trinitarian divinity, that Holy Ghost should return to You and prove this love to be true.
Resurrected from the fires of Hell, the gates of Hades could not keep me from You, as I wait upon Your doorstep for all eternity to bear for You, like a golden nose ring upon an altar’s ivory statue, placed there by You its Maker, the fruit of Your labor and the harvest of Your flock. “For Thou shalt not suffer thine holy one to see corruption, and Thou wilt not leave my soul in Hell…”; for I shall come for You and wait for You; I shall plummet to the very depths of Hell to find You, to bear Thee up upon eagle’s wings as we soar into the glory of the Risen Christ as one—the Bridegroom and His bride, the God and His Spirit, the Lovers and Their Firstborn, the mystery of the Holy Trinity—one God in three holy Persons—forever.
I am Thine—God Yah and Christ Jesus, love, Tyler Holy Ghost
Title: “The Kamikaze Jetstream of Lady Exxon-Valdez”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank you for the restful repose that is the recollection of this lowly little soul into Thy Spirit, the secret place of the Most High, wherein Thou shalt cover us with Thy pinions and under Thy wing and in Thy holy name we shalt trust.
Please, my Lords, take me not from the sweet embrace of Thy shelter, as in this fastness, like the cleft of a rock covered by Your own right hand, Thy silhouetted stance may be discerned and Thy still small voice may be perceived, as in new words You echo the old refrain, “Follow thou me.”
“Follow thou me,” Thy voice trails off into mystery, as the trail perceptible only within the intuition of my heart, the recollected soul in this prayer of quiet, gathered wholly unto You, as this trail within my heart of hearts, reveals itself unto my awestruck surprise and Your glory.
This trail just begins to take shape as the other draws cold, and drawing one sharp cold breath to within my papery lungs, the vessel of my heart takes its fill of new air, and with a new sort of breath my heart is enlarged and my scope is expanded, like a pulsing vessel within an outstretched ribcage, opening itself to hope against hope and finding its cavity engorged with the hot blood of new life. In these labors of love, a spiritual rebirth thrusts itself outward in a recoil simultaneous to what might be a lance thrusting itself in, as with this Cross torn from the side of God’s first man, it is now set back in place to house his Redeemer heart, in the fullness of understanding and the calm resignation of the all-seeing eye of a conquered hurricane.
This ribcage, this shelter, this Rock of Horeb and Gibraltar, this one left behind but never leaving His work undone…
In a split second of splitting hairs, the whiplash of hitting a sharp-edged hairpin turn at breakneck speed and nosebleed heights, recoiling back into its tight bunch at the nape of a firmly gripped neck, loosens the gathered clutch of her brood, and a snatch of young eggs is sent splayed from her butterflied burnt offering. The crushed glass holocaust of her milky heart weighs loosely and seeps like tears from a weeping spider bite just behind her brainstem, and with that, this clutched heart is pried open and loosened like the seal of Revelations’ infamous recounting.
Her pierced heart leaks its bloody and gravelly, gritty, hard-earned contents all over the cement sidewalk and black tar asphalt for miles, to be collected as the bread of angels by ominous augurs who have been watching for days with the flit of stealthy feathers. She speeds away in ship-shape resilience, bouncing back from her own home-spun web like from a bumper lane at a bowling alley, while the glory of this trail of tears shines on for years, like an oil spill from a jetliner, like a gas leak from the punctured tank of a shot up getaway car, just waiting till dark to illuminate the phosphorescent glow of an invisibly struck match upon this line of spilled gasoline, bleeding like a soldier’s wound to lead me straight to her pierced gas tank, at the very moment of a cataclysmic explosion, bearing the sparks of new life, secretly held in wait, and now revealed in plain sight and with perfect timing, like the fireworks of the Fourth of July; as in looking back, I now recall, O how they lit up that cold Dark Night.
Title: “The Mandolin Mandible: From Samson to Psalm”
Alternate Title: “X Echoes XX: In Word and in Truth, the Response to Christ is an Echo of Himself”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this lovely new day of Thy blessings of life and new hope, reborn anew each new day with the rising of the sun and the Resurrection of Thy Firstborn, Thine only begotten Son Jesus, alive in my heart and on Earth as it is in Heaven, for those who so believe.
Please, my Lords, from the serpentine sagebrush to the serendipitous snares, let not Thy manifold ways of life and leavening become to us as like the wonders of a world leading Thy servant astray—like a lover caught in a labyrinth without that sacred cord in hand, tying Him to His bride to lead Him back out to safety and into the arms of His Beloved—as the wonders of Thy mind can so beckon one away from Your heart just as well as can the wonders of creation beckon one away from their heavenly Creator.
In the least likely of origins, for it has too been said, “Nothing good can come out of Nazareth,” shall be found the least likely of candidates in the least likely of cloisters, to fulfill the sacred duty of the heart’s calling, in the midst of the world and the distractions of the mind’s own intellect, to put forth remembrance of Your own sacred treasure, in truth and in Spirit, in worship not on this or any other sacred hill or mountain, but in the Holy Land of the soul within, and the Holy of Holies even, of Thy Spirit gliding just atop this Promised Land of our eternal homeland in Heaven, as like that mighty wind rushing above the waters, as it was in the beginning.
For now as it ever shall be, this bread that is broken is Christ’s body, the Word that is truth incarnate in Thy sacred High Priest and Lamb forever, Christ Lord Jesus, and this bread of angels and manna from Heaven is the fruit and outgrowth of Thine own labors of love wrought within the soul, in the Kingdom of God and eternal city to be claimed upon awakening from this earthly exile of this mortal life, as we open our eyes to find ourselves reborn from above and risen in Christ—at home and at peace with God above.
This bread rained down from Heaven like dew upon the ground is the nourishment of the Spirit, as we break our hearts to share in the harvest’s abundance, for the growth of our hearts in Thee is the divine food which we reap when we do all our work in and for the service of Thee and Thy holy Church.
As we break our hearts, the outgrowth of our laboring in the soul, we feed upon this divine food of spiritual substance and heavenly sustenance; for, “This is My body and this is My blood, given up for you.” The Word of God does sustain indeed His fellowservant in the heavenly Kingdom, as we remain in truth and in Spirit in all life’s difficulties, to sow good seed in the soil of the soul and Spirit, so that the produce of our labors and the harvest of our toil may be a spiritual harvest of the virtues and of divine grace, bearing the superabundance of Your own mighty deeds and miraculous green thumb touch, even when we are condemned by man and his cruelty of Roman rule, with a thumbs-down signifying death, despite bearing no guile nor falsehood, nor malice nor deceit, upon the lips of our mouths or in the thoughts of our hearts.
As we labor in Spirit and in love, our hands bear the earthly evidence of our productivity with gifts abounding both seen and unseen, while these Selfsame hands also bear the pain and the wounds and the scars of the sacrifice, both seen and unseen, but uncovered in the heart, as evidence of our natural works following suit in the supernatural order of our alignment and allegiance, as for the Kingdom of Heaven we claim a plot of land and a scythe, and with the sickle in hand, of our unchained right side, the Christ of our preachers and the God of our patriarchs wields the instrument of the increase.
For we pray like only God can save us, and yet we work like only we can save the City of God. After the firstfruits are offered and set on display, the bread of the presence, the holy outgrowth in Christ of our own hearts bearing the fruit of divine love and divine mercy from labors executed within the strait and narrow confines of a strict adherence to virtue, and remaining within the everlasting integrity of the Spirit, confined within the torment of the soul, we do indeed feast upon the words to proceed from our own mouths, as like the shewbread and the cup of the New Covenant formed from wisdom, as our souls are gripped tightly in a liplock with the Almighty—and we do indeed nourish our own Spirits with our own hearts, biting into and consuming our own hearts, and gnawing at our own Word’s heavenly, ripened fruit, as we too eat of ourselves, the body of Christ—growing like a field’s harvest of crops from the good soil of our good and well-tended souls. We do indeed sustain ourselves, as like a fabled perpetual motion machine, for with man, this is not possible, but with God—with God, all things, all things indeed, are possible.
-I love You, God Yah and Jesus, love Tyler Holy Ghost
Title: “The Fruit that Grow After Their Kind”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this lovely new day of Your infinite presence and most elusive and hard-earned peace, that is the soul with a clean conscience at home and at rest in Thee. Please, my Lords, strengthen my hands in Spirit, that this day’s work may prove acceptable to You and bring the desires of Your own heart and the workings of Your will, as I enjoin myself to You in endeavoring towards its realization, to fruition.
As fruits do so grow after their kind, the seeds of goodly intentions for the root of charity and the tree of life are carefully tended and nurtured and cultivated, while the weeds in this heavenly soil of the soul that are earthly attachments, desires apart from Thee, and thoughts of anger or passionate fury, are ripped clean and cast out from this sacred ground before they even take root, lest the secret harboring of those thoughts and grudges become an internal pestilence to spoil the whole garden.
As the grudges are made openly and grievances lain bare, so that no secret resentments may lay a claim to this stronghold of the heart, the soil of sacred ground now receives its rest, as it has been said, “And the land had rest…”.
With the garden of the soul in fruitfulness and full bloom, what shall be said of this day’s work, as yoked together as one as we are in the grace of the Cross, that tree of life bearing You, my Lord, and the tie that binds; what now shall be said of this day’s work, as we pluck out our weeds, water our garden, and gather in our good fruit?
“Well, the tares and the good grain shall be allowed to grow together until the day of the harvest, so that in removing the tares the good grain is not uprooted with it. Then it shall all be gathered together, and the tares shall go into one pile while the good grain is collected and stocked into the storehouses, to nourish our people. But the tares—the tares that the enemy hath planted, in the good field of good grain planted in good soil? These shall be cast into the eternal fires, which is symbolic of what shall become of, not only this fruit that grows after its kind, but also of the enemy, who plants such tares of wickedness that grow after their kind from the wicked intentions of his wicked heart.”
But what shall become, you might say, of this day’s work? Well, I shall reap my own harvest along with yours, and when you receive the visitation of your own Final Judgment, I shall say to the enemy who hath done this, to plant the tares of his cruel treatment and injustice against me as these tares of resentments within my own clean heart, to him I shall deliver the reaping of his own harvest, and into Hell shall be cast every man of his kind (for evildoers, murderers, rapists, whoremongers, liars, thieves, slanderers, the unrepentant wicked and corrupt, all ones such as these, shall not inherit the kingdom of Heaven, as should be clear as day to anyone). For all ones such as these shall be cast into the fiery pit of Hell, along with that bitter fruit and those grapes of wrath, that are the enemy’s tares in my sacred garden, and the fruit that grow after their kind.
Title: “Pas de Deux: The Soul of a Dancer, a Tightly-Coiled Spring”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this lovely new day of Thine eternal shelter of infinite peace, and the blessedness of God that is the fulfillment of the promises of Christ in the Beatitudes, for only in worldly privation do we avail ourselves to the fulfillment of spiritual attainment, in allowing You to instead fill all our needs, as our lot and our true inheritance.
Please, my Lords, as this day unfurls, like a banner in the wind or a proclamation from the reed cruciform of John the Baptist, let it unfurl into You, into that mighty wind that is Your hand ready to receive us back in all things, into Yourself and into the sky, as with the spiritual likeness of a white dove, this Cross of Noah’s new ark and Christ’s new covenant receives its welcome and that olive branch of peace as a token of new life, as we do live in Your heart and find life from above, after the manner of the Spirit and our adherence to our regeneration in Christ through baptism into You.
Please, my Lords, in this new day of uncoiling ourselves into You, grant that we may hold tight to the energetic amplitude to be unleashed in this unwinding of this tightly-wound coil, from this seat of the soul and reservoir of our spiritual energies to be found in this worm, this lowly spirit of Your humble servants, so that in letting go of our wills, we may instead find You holding onto us, and directing and constraining our energies into a tightly-knit and gently controlled, iron coil of filament and divine life, held in with our trust and Your own hand, as these works of faith take shape around us as the offshoots of this volcanic containment, and the supernatural reverberations sent out from the Spirit through constraining the body in the love that is of Christ.
Please my Lords, this tightly-wound coil, this spring that is Your divine energy just waiting to power our movements and energize the momentum of our actions in this new day, let it always be received into You, as like a game of catch or keep up, or passing the baton in a relay race, so that this torch, this lantern containing that divine spark of life that is the light of Christ and the testimony of God’s own truth, may be found never to dwindle, nor falter, nor recede into darkness, nor be quenched by the pride of life, so that always and forever—as like your seven lamp menorah illuminating the gifts of Your glory and the heavenly body upon the mercy seat of the Ark of the Covenant—so that always and forever, we may be found with You, the voice bringing light to the darkness and the flame of that light, as faithful servants of your will and like the watchful vestal virgins, always prepared with the oil of love so that these torches, these lanterns, these candlesticks of Thy hallowed Church, Your Temple, Your body, Your people, Your brood, shall always be found burning, from death to life and the Resurrection of the Spirit that is eternal life, in You.
Let these lamps always be found burning with the unquenchable flame that is new life, in You.
Let these lamps always be found burning, like the purring of a thickly-oiled engine, with the new life, that is death on earth, but true life, in You.
Let these lamps always be found burning, like a martyr on a pyre, with eternal life, in You.
Title: “Slingshot of David, Arrows of Ecstasy”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank you for this lovely new day of divine peace and prayerful inspiration, as I await the blessings of Your holy hand to bleed forth in the ink from this pen and the heart of Thy servant. Please my Lords, as I gather together my faculties and withdraw into my soul, gathered together in You, grant that this tranquil distance borne between this lowly little soul and the expanse of the great beyond—this earth, this life, this creation wrought at Your command—may only serve to draw me deeper into You and pull me closer to Your will and Your heart, as the Creator apart and distinct from His created things.
As like the taut pull holding back the elastic cord of a slingshot or an archer’s bow, let the inclination of the will, this holy hand holding up my soul and holding back my words, receive me into You, so that as I draw back into You, the tension of energy may be transferred in taut restraint within the deepest caverns of my interior dwelling and then transferred in trust from my hand to Yours, from the control of my will to Yours, so that these reins of my heart shall remain under Your control and Your power, to be released like a stone in David’s slingshot at the time of Your choosing and at the instant of Your command—as I am only here to pull back into You, to hand the drawn cord bearing its stone of the Wadi into Your hands, and to trust in You as we find our alignment in Christ, peering through the aim of our unified scope, set by Him, Christ Lord Jesus.
As I draw back and hand over the torch to its true bearer and pass the baton to the predestined victor, it is as one that we adhere to the target of Your own heart’s choosing, and the ammunition of Your own pious design, be it the rapturous arrows of love, or stones from the Wadi for a death blow to the temple of Goliath, and it is the release of Your own holy right hand that sends these projectiles reeling, right on course, in due measure and at the appointed time, and in the trajectory of ominous synchronicity in bearing their fruits and effects right on time and right on target, pulling no innocent bystanders into their reach nor laying out a witness for recipients unready or unwilling for a message of no modest import.
As three souls in one are enjoined in Thee, in this holy draw-back of energy that is the restraint of the will, the restraint of pen and tongue in an undetermined period of trust and agonizing waiting in enduring the fiery agony and hellish fury of letting injustices ride out unbewailed of, and letting grievances burn in my heart leaving the lament of the pain unspoken, with the perpetrators in a state of injustice, in being as yet unaccused, until the time of fruition arrives and the visitation sets itself upon and from within my very own soul, my very soul…
At the appointed time, no sooner no later, and with the apportioned measure meted out, no more no less, in swift regard and in swiftness of Spirit, You let go for me from within the deepest and darkest recesses of my own mind—my heart, my soul, my Spirit drawn into and out of and enjoined unto You. As it is You Who lets go within us, having the holy command of the holy hand, I watch the scope of my soul as You show me Your vision—as what remains to be seen is in the unwinding of time, and what lays before the line of my vision, is the line of a page bearing witness to You. What is set before me is the sight of You, as with targets locked-on we release a furious flurry of barbed arrows and scorching stones, veritable live coals to be heaped upon heads as the just deserts of their labors—while we watch the flames of the glorious rapture that sets fire to the hearts of believers, in an ecstasy offset by agony, in this blissful bemoaning of justice unserved and with the artillery of angels, just one Word—with just one little Word—we kill two birds with one stone.
Like the domino effect of a course of events set in motion, we shall let Wisdom herself be vindicated by her own children.
Title: “The Gift and the Gifted, I can take it from Here”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for the blessing of this bright new day and the unfolding all around us of Your heavenly wings found in terrestrial creation. Please, my Lords, help Thy faithful servant to adhere to You like wrapping paper encapsulating a gift, so as to evermore contain the divine grace that is Your divine love which has found a home for itself in my heart.
Please, my Lords, let this new day blossom into beatitude as like a heart opening to the song of its Lover, as this new life within us begs to be nurtured with the warmth of Thy light and the waters of Thy mercy, in this eternal garden of Thy keeping in the soul given wholly unto You—with the gift of You bursting forth within gifted back to Yourself, as the only sacrifice worth offering and the only love worth either giving or receiving.
Please, my Lords, in this infinite chiasm of Thy Holy Writ in this chasm of a hollow and purified, hallowed heart by kenosis, let it evermore echo with the resounding melody of Your own soulful song of worship and praise, as I merely house and encase and envelop the atmosphere of Your own creative energy as the willing vessel and readied and humbled handmaid, devoted to serving only Your will; at Your feet, at Your service, and with eyes and ears only for You.
In this garden of eternity, as You grace us with Thy presence by pulling me evermore deeply into You and filling me with the mystery of faith that is the presence of the Almighty, “full of grace” as filled with You, please allow that we may burn with all the brightness and splendor that is of the Spirit of the LORD as like the burning bush beheld by Moses, and as like all the spiritual glory and wonder to be absorbed by those betold of in the Beatitudes of Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount, bequeathing the promises of the Kingdom to the forsaken of the world—as only in worldly renunciation and temporal and earthly suffering can the mind be attuned to the higher calling of the Spirit to holiness, and the higher reality of the soul within, as without and external to it is only the partial story of the pain and misery of the Cross of Your faithful followers, without the fullness of glory to be found in the newness of life in the Spirit found through the Resurrection of Christ in the Kingdom within.
As in this beauteous new day of beatific new grace, let this lowly little soul, utterly lost to worldly attainments but utterly found and at home in Thee, shine forth the mystery of Your glory as like the completion of a story that has reached its ending, or the completion of a perfect gift with the ribbon tied on top and the nametag inscribed with Your own proclamation, as its intended Recipient and the object of this message and anonymous messenger, in its forgetfulness of self and purity of heart. Let this gift of the soul back to its Maker be acceptable in Thy sight, as like that burning bush upon Mount Sinai, or the Transfiguration of Thy holy Son upon Mount Tabor—with all the adherence to You within the heart as the etching of Your own finger into the Tablets of the Law, engraving Your Word into stone as Your engrave Your imprint into my life, my love, my heart, my very soul. Let us adhere to You like the truth to Your own lips, as in Spirit and in truth, we worship You, not from any holy mount of old, but from the holy Rock of the Ages that is Your Word within—present from the time of creation, through which came creation, which was before creation, and shall be here after creation, as from this Holy Land of truly sacred truth, Thy divine Word divinely implanted within the soul of all Your faithful and abiding creatures, as from this Holy Land the Kingdom of God within and Your Word incarnate at rest and at home within this purity of heart—as from here we shall worship You and receive that living water of Thy Holy Spirit and Christ Jesus within, and from here, You say; “…Thank you my dear, I can take it from here.”
Title: ‘The New Life, this lot Called “Christ”’
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank you for this bright and beautiful new day and for all the raging fury from past injustices and harms committed against me, for if I am at peace and at home in this sinful world, then I shall take my seat with those very same sinners, for to be at home in this world is to be absent from You, and to be a true Christian and follower of Christ is to take up His Cross after Him and follow along the strait and narrow path of hardship and persecutions to be at one with You.
For what are persecutions if not to be slandered by the mouths of men, or to be hated for the sake of vicious rumors? To be wrongly and unjustly treated not due to any sin on our part but due to the spiteful tongues and malicious words of deceitful, envious, or wicked, thoughtless, and gossiping mankind? For this is the lot of some, if not to suffer for wrongdoing, then to suffer for righteousness’ sake, and this is pleasing and acceptable in the sight of God, because it conforms our hearts into the same state as the heart of Jesus, Who suffered so in like manner before us, and in conforming our hearts and souls to Him, His Spirit abides all the more brightly in us, as in conformity to Him we are drawn into You, finding our home in You through the rejection of the world and the struggle and suffering we experience in life’s tribulations.
Yet far from mourning our lot, we cherish our Cross and value our struggles, for it is in being dispossessed by the world and displaced from a seat among man that we are cornered into the love that is Yours, and forced into the home that is You through our withdrawal into the Spirit of God within, and it is through the hardship of this lot, the lot of true Christians and Catholics who are not deceived by the feigned joys of the world that are merely the pleasures of sin, it is through this lot of suffering and persecution that we learn to find the triumph of virtue in the Spirit and the soul. And it is through this lot that we penetrate the burning torment of the heart that knows pain, to find our center and Companion and suspension above this state of earthly misery in the Cross of Christ at the crux of our being—for in being pinned down and cornered into the Cross of Christ, it is that same Christ Jesus Who then welcomes us into Him, indeed into His corner, sharing with us His love and divine consolations as we join Him on His Cross. And it is that Selfsame Spirit, that very same God of Abraham and of Isaac, the God of Jacob called Israel, and that one and only Christ Jesus our Lord, Who then becomes the life within us, claiming us as His own and enjoining us to Him (for it is His Cross too, claimed by Him and conquered by Him in His victory of the Resurrection), like the center of safety that is the secret place of the Almighty within the core of the soul, in the heart of one set on fire with the agony of suffering and the torment of persecutions in this world of sin and of man—and we take our refuge in His arms held high like in the eye of a hurricane—shielding us with calm and safety amidst a tempest of pain and fury, emotional unrest and earthly turmoil, wrought upon this body and this heart by indeed the sins of fallen man.
We accept our lot, and just like Lot, we heed the angels’ call, and never turn back to find out and lament the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah. We keep our eyed fixed straight ahead on God, and we follow His life in our hearts so as not to become as like pillars of salt; the pillars of salt that are the zombies and walking dead of those who covet the things of the world—for that world is dead to us lest we become dead with it—for we have found and received life and salvation, in the new life, called “Christ.”
Title: “Define the Word ‘Never,’ Never Land: A Path of St. Peter Pans out for the Pathos of Unbelievers”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this lovely new morning of divine peace and holy awakening from death’s sweet somnolence, as enkindled with the flame of Your eternal love, our hearts melt with an interior sweetness and burn with the desire and righteous motivation to do all things within Thy will, with suffering and persecutions added, for the service of Thee, sheerly out of love for You, and to bring glory and honor to God’s holy name.
Please, my Lords, as death’s tight grip finds its release upon the oozy, gushy, squishy heart grown in tenderness about my soul, please grant that Your willing and readied servant may meet it in its own terms and respond in kind, as we go toe-to-toe in meeting the face of unnamed fear eye-to-eye, and finally the phantom of death meets its match in the death grip—returned in kind—from this ghost of the gallows and phantom of life.
Please, my Lords, I beseech Thee with the howling screech and billowing wail befitting and equivocating the terror and torment known far too well and for far too long, from within the eerily-reached unreachable recesses of this cavernous heart and mighty soul, that in the furrows of this brow and the fathoms shielded behind this forehead and far-off gaze, You may find a home suited to Thy needs and a dwelling place of rest readied to Your liking. As in the far-reaches of the mind’s eye, these eyes of flesh rest not upon any object within earthly sight, for the desires of the soul who fixes his aim within, on the hope of You, my God, can find no earthly object upon which to rest his gaze, for there is no rest to be found in this land of the living dead, lost to the sight of Thee, but only in You can we find the peace of true rest, at home in You as we have made our own souls a home for Thee.
Please, my Lords, as within the earthly reaches of a temporary respite we may indeed catch glimpses of You, let us not linger too long beyond the horizon of our gloomy eyes, hung like a bedroom’s ethereal chiffon blessing behind darkly lowered eyelashes, a torn curtain rent in two, in the glossy lovesick embrace of Thine divine suspension, upheld within the floating phantasies of an ecstatic mind bound in agony to Your darkness of faith, and truth in supernatural light.
As we may indeed catch glimpses and signs and types of Thee beyond the windows of our soul and the bedroom of our bedroom eyes, let us not be caught off-guard and led astray by phantasms of Thee, to be led out from this soul’s shelter in Thee for a mere reflection of Your love like in a looking glass as You glance its way—for indeed from within this image is cast, and indeed from us is this likeness Thy shadow cast too; as with all the flamboyance and affrontery of an impudent pixie fixated on the kiss of one Peter Pan, we may be found to neglect the true love of the heart set on You, in navigating after the illusion of its own concocted fantasy of divine union with Thee.
So let us proceed, after the desires for us of Your own heart, like the trampled-upon sprigs of fresh new grass from the undercut of a second wind and last gasp, and let us proceed in the kiss of a thimble, discarding the thimble and accepting the kiss; for sewn into You we are as one with Your shadow, and sown into You, we are revealed by the noonday Son. In Thy saving splendor of glory and the creative burst of a supernova, we are unmasked, unveiled, undaunted and unexpected, as uncovered as snowdrops like a thief in the night. We are revealed like a Revelation and without hesitation, as grown into one and the same as You.
Title: “The Ballet of the Red Shoes: In the Blood of the Lamb Evermore”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this shimmering and shiny new morning, like a bright new penny and augur of good luck lying face up upon my doorstep. Please, my Lords, in the rising of this new day and the blessing of this ever-new Son, please let us enjoin ourselves to Thee in the performances of Thy good works within the regions of Thy good will. For as good Samaritans and good soldiers of the Faith, we rise to the occasion with the rising of the Son, of our hearts and spirits in union with Thee.
Please, my Lords, in the bountiful gratitude of this fresh new day, grant that we may find our welcome home at the footfall of Your footstep as like that lucky augur upon our doorstep, and find our two souls as one in You as we as one find ourselves standing in those shoes bearing those footprints. And as we—with unity of vision and singleness of heart—find ourselves with one and the same mind, body, and Spirit in conforming so closely to Thee (in seeking Thy will for us above and to the exclusion of all else), may we find too with joy that You have totally taken possession of us, commanding this ship from within that is the vessel of Thy will, the instrument of Thy peace, the pure-hearted soul given wholly unto Thee, and this open channel of divine love, coursing through a clear mind, a clean heart, and an open and obedient will so brilliantly.
Please my Lords, as we find ourselves lifting one and the same foot above each footstep, as I have been tending to You and the service of Your goodness so diligently at the entry of Thy dwelling and at the doorstep of Thy home, let us adhere to Thy Commandments inscribed upon the doorposts like Thy paschal blood spattered upon the lintels, and maintain a gentleness of heart and an intellect free from hasty judgment of self and others, as we adhere to Thee with all lovingkindness and merciful candor while the beams we have removed from our own eyes, through tending to our own souls in turning the other cheek to the mote seen in theirs—while those beams adhere to the rafters of our house where they belong, in like fashion as our obedience, in remaining where we ought and seeing to the construction of our own temples of God in these bodies of man, founded upon the Cornerstone made Capstone not to be refused, the stone that the builders rejected that is the foundation of Christ Jesus our Lord, in doing as He did and in following what He said to do.
For to hear His sayings is one thing, and to understand them is something greater, but to actually do them, in spirit and in truth, and with the greatness of understanding why and how these actions are to benefit both ourselves and others, in our wellbeing in this life and in the integrity, of our eternal structures of our eternal souls in the next—to actually do as He says just as He has done in His time, is to lay ourselves prone to God and open with courage, to be likened to the wise masterbuilder who has built his house upon Rock.
When then comes the foretold-of wrath of the Lamb and the day of our Final Judgment, we shall indeed be found standing; we shall indeed be found ready, waiting in Thee and on Thy doorstep, and ever so watchful in our hearts. We shall indeed be found standing, as we share the same shoes and are supported by the same legs, in finding our body our Church in one and the same as His, being built upon the same Rock that is the one Lord Christ Jesus.
As we do find ourselves to be standing upon the same feet and wearing the same shoes, we continue our repertoire of this day’s daily labors with each day our daily bread, as with this Liturgy of the Word of our daily Scriptures, and our daily readings in our Liturgy of the Hours, it is not us who lives, but Thee, and it is not our thoughts that we entertain, but Thine, as our Host co-mingled within us, O body and blood of Christ! And it is not us who ties the ribbon upon the gift that we give to Thee, of this life and this soul, a sacrifice of body and mind and heart and praise; but rather, it is You Who offers us up in Thee, with the perfection of Your own sacrifice, the only gift worth giving. And we are received into You as we are so delivered, for it is by You, the Selfsame Giver and giftee, the recipient and receiver and messenger and message, as in You all things are held in creation, and in You all things are upheld in the completeness of One, O beatific mystery of the Godhead thus visited!
For it is in Your shoes that we are to be found standing, and it is in Your dance that we are to be found on time, in time to the music that is the worship of the soul. In that divine pas de deux that ever carries, we are carried in Thee like the soul of a dancer, carried away in Spirit as if spirited away in the ballet of The Red Shoes—for it is You Who dances in us, it is You Who dances for us, and it is in You that we shall be found dancing, in this curse destined to be remade as a blessing, in the blood of the Lamb evermore.
Title: “Having, Doing, Being: A ‘Take On’ Existence and a Ghost Race of Sorts”
Alt. Title: “A Ghost Race to the Finish: Penetrate this Heart, the Ovum of the Universe”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this wondrous new day, deeply immersed in the zeal and fervor of a jealous absorption in You, returning with mutual reciprocity the favor of Thine own jealous love, for the possession of our hearts that You have visited upon us.
Please, my Lords, in the infinite peace of a prayerfully-focused quietude, grant this: that Thy humble servant, in the obedience of a low-spirited and high-browed deference to Thy will and Thy way, of meek and mild gentleness of spirit and of the high road of uncompromising morals and the truly attainable virtues of Thine own goodness in the living out of these not-so-elusive, yet lofty ideals—in this reverence for goodness and obedience to You and the objectively unquestionable tenets of Thy Commands and teachings of Thy Faith, grant that we may remain in that infinitely peaceful state of “being,” beyond “doing,” and so very far beyond “having,” in describing the attitude of our mentality and the defining aspect of the true nature of our most frequent and characteristic thoughts, thinking patterns, and thought processes.
Grant my Lords, that we may soar above the low and base level of what we have, what is ours or of our own, in this most prominent feature of the world’s own children, as that preoccupation with “having,” and what we have…
Let us also rise yet further above this next slightly less materialistic, and slightly less superficial and surface-level state of existence which is that state of “doing,” in being immersed in activity and preoccupied by the day’s tasks and our daily work, as virtuous as it may be to focus on productivity and the contributions that we can make to our community or to society at large, or to You specifically, my Lords, without a thought for our own selves, what we stand to gain from our labors, or what we may obtain as our own to “have” from these selfless acts of “doing.”
Thus, let us transcend too the virtuosity of the level of works of mercy and pious endeavors of activity, at least momentarily, to find our own selves seeded in that loftiest level of spiritual growth and the progression of a soul’s life in the Spirit of Thee, to the level of contemplation and the prayer of quiet, the spiritual immersion of our soul in Yours, beyond what we have, beyond what we do, and beyond what we are, to become as one with Thee—to be as one with You and what You are—and to ponder the mystery of You within us, as we find our own lives as the life within You.
Please, my Lords, and origin of all life, grant that we may fight against that current of the evermore powerful lifeforce emanating out from Thee, as we swim upstream towards the Source of all existence rather than to be caught up in the flow of life, carrying us away from it and away from You like all the rest of creation and Your lowly creatures, never seeking out the high path and the hard road that leads us to forsake our own course of life in leading us back to our Source and back to You, in seeking what is of You and Yours, rather than of our own.
Grant that we may push forth towards You and into Your own lifeforce that so strongly repels us away from You, as like the leaves and the branches away from the root and seed of a tree, and that so strongly generates all life and all energy as boundless ripples of the living water streaming out from You, O Divine Creator and Source of all holiness, of all existence, and of all life.
Please grant that we may push through against the grain of our comfort zone and against the flow of that outwardly coursing energy of creation, so that against all odds and against the current, we may find our way into Your grace, and penetrate that shell of Your highest heavenly circle, and enter into that forcefield that is a soul’s truest “being,” as being one with Thee its Maker, and orienting itself solely towards being as one with You, as according to Your own understanding of Yourself, Your own “take on” existence, and Your own will for the nature of our predestined union.
Let us penetrate into the deepest interior layers of what it is “to be” and the nature of being, existence as according to You, and enter into the womb of creation and back into You, Thy matrix of life, as like a sperm penetrating an egg in this ovum of the Universe, and let us find ourselves at one with our Creator as like uniquely adopted heirs, piggy-backing upon Christ’s prior victory and yet still caught up in a ghost race with Your Firstborn—newly regenerated as like a zodiac twin, to be as one with Thy eternally Begotten, at one with You, the infinitely Transcendent, and at one with the Universe in a state of “being”—for to be at one with You is to know life truly, and to live life truly, is to be as one with our Lord Jesus, our Christ and eternal Savior.
…And on that note, God is always with us, because all of God’s “sperm count.”
Title: “Contemplative Prayer and the Evolution of Spiritual Communion”
Alt. Title: “Spiritual Maturity not only as Strength, but as Loving Trust in Vulnerability to Thee”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for the warm welcome of this blissful new day as we make our home in You, and thank You for the quiet repose of a still and silent heart, as we find our new voice, speaking beyond what words can alight upon, in the sight of the soul, the language of contemplative unity, and the expressions that encompass the entire range of experiences in Thee, as You breathe life and love and communion of Spirit into this open heart and strengthened soul.
Please my Lords, as with ears that hear and eyes that see, grant that we may behold You not in the light of our own preconceived notions and mortal intellect, of natural and non-spiritually-driven understandings of You, but grant that we may behold Thee and encounter You in the darkness of the intellect that is the glory of faith, to see You in Your own light, and as according to Your own understanding and experience of Yourself, in the supernatural understanding of theological virtue and God-given Wisdom in this gift of the Holy Spirit.
Grant that we may see You with the eyes of the soul, with these being the eyes that truly see, in faith and in regard to spiritual truths, as those which endure for all eternity, and which live on even after the body has fallen into its death sleep, with its eyes of the flesh to be closed and to be open no more, until the day it sees itself from within, with those ever-open eyes of the everlasting soul, to be called back from its rest and to be Arisen in You, to Whom be all honor and glory forever.
Please, my Lords, with these unspoken messages that go yet not unheard, within this divine seal of communion in Spirit as we are enjoined unto You, in this soft, knowing, and tender gaze of loving contemplation and the truthful reception of all Thine own divine and heavenly intentions of the heart, and answers to all our ponderings, often seconds before we wonder after such mysteries, as questions or perplexities explored in the courage bestowed by grace, through our assurance of safety in You (as we are truly recalled into Thee, gathered into the soul and gathered thus into You)—with this divine form of heavenly communication that is a spiritual evolution beyond human language, let it please You that our humanness and tenderhearted humanity (for with the utmost extreme of an exposed nerve, and with all mortal pain and rawness of sensitivity, we are wide open in the most tender and vulnerable parts of the soul’s innermost openings, and we are lain prone in the perfect vulnerability to You that is the only true expression of perfect trust)—let it please You that our humanity go not left behind, to be passed by and passed over as inferior to Your almighty and ever-enduring, most magnanimous and merciful, all-powerful protection. But grant rather, that our tenderhearted humanity, may be prized and paraded, increased and upheld, as like a banner of Christ’s victory over death and a stigmata of the soul, as the innermost core of our woundedness of love and our perfect, open, and softhearted trust in You, to be not left behind in favor of the strong within us, but to be increased along with our valor and newfound strength in You, pouring forth from this wound and uncovered in Thee.
Grant that as our supernatural understanding of divine strength in Thee goes ever before us, our natural weakness of human frailty and tenderness of feeling, that is Your heavenly touch of mercy upon this willing and able, this readied and open and listening heart, may go right along with us forever after. For in this evolution of Spirit, that is a deeper maturity through this reclaimed heritage and adoptive upbringing in Thee, to grow and develop is not to leave behind the vulnerability and woundedness of the heart in its love for Thee, but to nurture it and allow it to grow and prosper in its love right along with our growth in courage, lionheartedness, and strength, so that this unique combination of the heavenly and the human, the earthly and divine, the weak and the powerful, and the mortal and immortal strengths that are born and found in Thee, are held intact and may grow together, in a wholeness of Spirit and fruitfulness of truth and honesty; well-rounded in heavenly development and displaying all-too-well that divine hypostasis that is the hypostatic union of Christ, the humanity of God, and the mystery of Thee.
Title: “Hail, Full of Grace: What if Mary said No?”
(Description: The Book of Job Records a Gag Reel)
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for the great depths of this resplendent new morning, illuminated in wondrous new ways with the shining brilliance of this bright, ever-new, ever-born Son, sending rays of luminosity ricocheting and skyrocketing off its surface, like the image and likeness of divinity as beheld as its own reflection, in a mirror or a looking glass.
Please my Lords, in the divine perspicacity that is a mind set at ease and sun-drenched in Thee, let us behold the mystery of Thy presence as You hold my soul firmly enmeshed in Thee, as I hold still in Your grace; and as You hold Your thoughts clearly before my face, as I hold You before my mind’s eye always.
Let us ponder, O Source of all grace, wisdom, salvation, and spiritual delight, what would become of us if not for that initial holy assent, that divinely inspired obedience and submission to Thy will, and that first “holy fiat” to Thee? What would become of us here if not for that very first “Yes” born from the Virgin Mary’s ever-virgin lips? What if, my Lords, “What if Mary said no?”
“What if,” You chuckle, with bemused laughter and in a whirlwind of grace, echoing that divine line of questioning in the Book of Job just as it stops dead in its tracks upon a holy rebuttal from Thee.
“What if the earth ceased to turn, what if the sun failed to rise, what if the tide failed to heed the day? What if the moon shone her white light no more and the sky her blanket ceased to be black? What if the stars declined to bespeckle the sky and the Universe grew smaller and defied its order to expand?”
“What if Your Word had not been there at the beginning, and through it the cosmos had demurred to be made? What if indeed Mary had said no!’”
You retort in kind with kindness seeping out slowly from the upturned corners of your slyly-curled lips, and peering out smokily from the crow’s feet creases around your gently smiling, soft-lit eyes. “What if Mary had said no… Could ‘Hail, full of grace’ fail to obey the nature of its being, as ‘full of grace’ in Mary, any more than could the earth fail to turn or the divine decree neglect to fulfill its command?” For the Word of God is not left undone, but it does as You say and obeys what You command—Thy Word, O heavenly Father, performs its work and returns to You as fruitful, fulfilled, and completed, as a harvest in Thine eyes and as virtuous good fruit to Thy lips. Can Thy grace any more neglect its mission and its calling than can Thy Word fail to fulfill its command? “I think not!” You bewail, musing over the innocence of the question and the naïveté of Your grace. “No no,” You go on, as I strive to maintain this “state of grace” to follow; “No no,” You go on, “My grace can no more decline My holy will than can My holy will cease to be Mine; for such is grace, My dear, that it is the fruition and completion of My will, and it is the ‘fiat’ and acceptance of what I will to command.”
“What if Mary said no,” You again repeat my question, laughing to Yourself at its absurdity, and its strangely inversely-oxymoronic redundancy, despite its being so innocently-posed. “What if, ‘Hail full of grace’ had yet not a speck of grace within her,” You reply again, just seconds away from going off on a long and drawn-out gag reel as we reflect and elaborate upon the comic irony of the question, as in rephrasing it Socratically You let it answer itself. “My Word will not come back to me unfulfilled,” Someone giggles, “And My grace will not come back to me full of someone else.”
Title: “A Prophet’s Propitious Pen”
Alt. Title: “THAT AM I: I Know YOU ARE but What, AM I?”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for the rising “Sun” and His morning star that is a fresh new perspective of a dawning upon this mind, awakened in love with Thee to Thy truth.
Please, my Lords, as all creation bows before Thy feet, let us embrace the softest of glances, and exchange these songs of our hearts in the very subtlest touch of an intuition’s caress, as in this stairwell of a most prescient Prophecy’s safekeeping, the marble bannister recoils at the incline of the mind, and this handiwork for the Harvesttime reclines in the in-depth endeavors of an inquiry into Thee.
O ladder of Jacob, O dreaming of Joseph, what is this night watch that the watchman should glance? What is this retinue that Thy servant should take notice? Take a listen in thy stance, and observe O ancient watchtower, O sentry of statute and sentinel of centuries!
A centurion’s kindly whisper bids the welcome, “For I am not worthy O Lord, that You should come under my roof,” yet from Gog to Magog the unnamed comes forth; and from the two prophets of Revelation joined as one, like a luminary candlestick burning at both ends in that unity of heart and mind that is the best of both sides and the best of both worlds, this too is issued forth: like the branch from the olive tree, two sticks joined as one, one Joseph and one Judah in the hand of Ezekiel Thy prophet; like the sprouting rod of Aaron in the dispelling of those who have no part in Thee, and who speak on behalf of a god that is not You, as they clatter like timbrels and shatter like glass as false prophets and imposter pearls not of the sea but fabricated by man, as they fall to the floor in an uproar; a harlot without the red thread of Rahab and destined for the brushfire, or that whore of Babylon with her slander strewn upon the face of her enemy, like insults marked in an incest of red lipstick and white lies upon the even whiter skin of a pure-hearted lady; a marksman’s target, in this scam and scandal that only a true artist would have the heart to discern.
In this overturning of powers from house to roof, from Gog to Magog, from head to heart, from harlot to bride, and from whore to Husband, in most criminally and culpably misplaced blame, mistaken identity, and the mark of a conman targeted with the mark of the beast; in this riotous uproar heard from the rafters, the bannister reels in from upon that white marble staircase, and God Himself, Thy Majesty ever-true, stoops down to reveal and to set the world right. Overturning the upended, setting straight those sent wrong, and rectifying the falsehoods covering up the real truth, the prisoner (to his own doom) plays his enemy’s part as he places his own blame upon the victim, and accuses his own crime of the unspeakable upon one “unequipped” with “such a spear” to pierce that entry wound… As Christ’s side bears the wounds of an insult unrepented-of; barbed arrows and blasphemy, slander and lies, lies and more lies, all slewn in His direction by the one who rightly bears that name hurled at Him, that infamous name that should go unnamed, of “Antichrist.”
For as has been said, “Behold the beam in thine own eye,” and “You spot it you got it,” this scam-art is the stationing of a decoy for the revelry and harlotry of illicit license, deflecting the blame away from one’s own sins in accusing another of that very same crime; for in this scam artist accusation, this cover-up sans make-up, the ones who did the crime pointed the finger of Satan’s own false accusations, deflecting the suspicions of onlookers away from themselves, and garnering the weary stares and wages of souls of those with half a mind—for no man thinks in truth with his heart left missing in the dust. For in this game of “Mid-rash” and trial of Life, you must play the hand you are dealt, and the House (of God) always wins. The hand of God itself even goes not unturned, in unfolding a playing hand in His playable humanity, and a royal flush is revealed as He displays your “muck” to your shame; for in a world full of spades, black-hearted and suited to dig their own graves, these true hearts are trumps, as it is Truth that saves.
Title: “Castles Made of Sand: Cast into Outer Darkness, Disbelievers of Truth”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this lovely new morning and for his fresh new light of divine inspiration that has taken hold in my heart, alighted my imagination, and sent my spirit soaring in Thee—my Rock and my Refuge, my Lord and Redeemer, an unreachable Fortress, save for a calling from Thee.
Please, my Lords, in this fresh new dawning of a revisited understanding upon the head of Thy maidservant, in this reclaimed heritage found in Thee, grant that Thy will may be uncovered as like a foundation of Rock in the firmament of Heaven, a foothold of solid ground in the cloud that is faith, in our unknowing yet known and trusting belief.
Grant too my Lords, that as uncovered in stark contrast and vivid relief as this fresh new fastness and stronghold may be, it shall not dwindle nor disobey with a flight of fancy, from that fugitive of a fickle heart and feckless imagination; for however unreal the supernatural may seem, it stands of its own through its truth in You, rather than from any fixation outside of You upon which one may fix his belief. For believing is seeing, but what one believes in truly does matter, as there is but one Rock and one foundation upon which to build a castle that will not fall in the sand—there is but one Truth, and that one is You, my God and my Lords of Heaven above.
For in the night seasons of wilderness and the sands of unkept time, the treason of disbelief falls short not for its lack of an object upon which to cling or of which to endorse; but rather, this short-sighted and faithless lack of steadfastness of believers, falls short of the Christ because it latches onto belief of that which bears not Your truth, through that single and fundamental essence of trust; of love and obedience, and divine union with You.
For without this beginning, this essence of God—claimed and acclaimed and reclaimed yet anew, with each new morning of each new day on this Earth—without this beginning of trust and truth in You, all else to which the mind may cling, in its efforts and endeavors (of futility) to believe in an hold fast to, to have as real and into firm reality to bring, some form of existence—all of this, man’s futile efforts of a feudal serf to live apart from and outside of Thee, to stand like a god of his own accord, all this crumbles as dust and disintegrates in his wake, like a dilapidated dollhouse, constructed of cardboard and withered away in its idolatry, into thin air, as bearing a truth not declared first by Thee.
As like beginning a race before the gun goes off, the contender shall be disqualified and obtain deathly defeat; so too as this race that is forfeited, in not following the Rule ordained by God, is building a castle of value, of quality eternal—a pearl of great price and beyond price indeed—that is not set upon Thee; upon Thy will and understanding of what reality should be—be it in the cloud or the Temple or the mercy seat of Your Ark, or a covenant of Spirit or a faith of souls, or a Tabernacle of Your designing or a house made of wood. If it is not first cast by Your potter and fathomed at Your wheel, that is the zodiac of Your mind’s own turning and that is the engineering of Your contemplation at work—if our belief in “what is” is not first deferred to the decree of “what is truth,” as what is truth to You, it shall not stand in Thy heart any more than upon solid ground, as a castle made of sand and lost as vanity in the wind.
For as You make Your way to make a home of our hearts, all of Heaven and Earth shall disappear and disperse as like exiles, if under first Your own glance they are not given the nod, of approval and infinity to escape death’s nod of sleep; of approval and infinity as acceptable in Thy sight.
For into the hourglass of eternity of the Ancient of Days, shall they be destined to drift as like the lost sands of lost time, who built their castles on the rock that is not Christ, and set their hearts to the shores of a land claimed and destined to fall, as an Earth that is unreal in belonging to these sands of time—the temporal and untrue—lost and without, a notion of You.
Title: “A Poem. Song of the Slave Ship, Tidal of Moses”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this glorious new day of Thine best bespoken and shimmering new tokens of Thy grace, in these words, these pearls of eternal wisdom.
Please my Lords, in the vast endeavors of Thy miraculous enchantment that is the mystic contemplation of Thee, let us not depart from the world in this far-off gaze and gentle immersion in Thee, but rather sustain this grace without a one-sided absorption, and allow the needs and textures and tones of the world, and its earthly dwellers, to become equally immersed and absorbed in us too.
As like a sponge with its porous cavities and cavernous tunnels, so too is the mind and the soul caught in You; as we are in Your waters and this living water in us, grant that in this ebb and flow of the tide of life, we may rush forth and recede in Thy perfect candor and cadence and flow, not obstructing this will of Your reach with a clog of resistance, but allowing You gently to move through us, and in us and around us, and us in You.
As we do open ourselves willingly, like a vessel a pump, a channel an artery, a vein a canal, we may remain as stationary, and settled, unmoved.
In Thine intransmutable, unchanging, and eternal state, we too find You with us as we open this gate;
This flood gate of the soul pours forth its liquid love, in as didactic a spell as a discipleship of Christ,
And the miraculous catch proceeds forth in a menacing pout, this Mother of pearls, of miracles, O mystery divine—O Mystery thus told, a miraculous draught to incline!
As our souls stay entrenched encamped within Thee, we too stay unmoved and unsinkable with Thee.
For when the flood is issued forth in a torrent from You, this tsunami this tidal wave, this fleet of Thy force in a gust, with the last gasp of a Ghast, we open our throats.
…And let the waves pass right through.
We lift up our hearts and open our gaze, in an incline of our thoughts to the Spirit in God.
We lift up these ancient gates and put up not a fight, for in this lack of resistance in a closing unfound, like a tunnel we stand to let it carry itself through,
Down to the ground, to this solid ground true.
In this way we escape the froth and the dust, of a fortress defended from the power of You—for in You we are You, and You are One in Three, as we open these gates to let through the powers that be.
For as we stand protected, our hearts covered and sealed tight, we protect ourselves only from the Truth and the Light.
With the rippling force of a giant hurricane, a Great Wave a great crush is what Ye shall ordain.
For to gird our loins with only these sewn fig leaves,
Of human avail, is to set ourselves against You, to our own futile travail.
In the midst of this tempest this slapshot slam dunk, we become ourselves the basket that has not run amok.
We unlatch the safe-hatch and let Your will through, and like Moses a Baby comes rip-roaring through.
This fleshly Incarnate inferno Divine, perceives Paradise with a holy incline.
Incline thine ears, thine eyes, thy hearts,
And take thought in the Spirit, where this Red Sea parts.
Title: “Sing like the Spirit: Dark Water, Dark Faith, a Relay a Race”
Alt. Title: “Swim like the Spirit: A Freestyle Free Verse does the Butterfly”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for the warm welcome of this fresh new morning to the divine presence of Thee dwelling in those very deepest layers within the darkest depths of my searching and steadfast, patiently persistent until it settles upon Thee—my bleeding and aching, and tirelessly attendant—my heart.
Please my Lords, in this bright new morning of a lithe and willowy life, set within that painstakingly pious gaze withholding all that is without Thee, within these very recesses of a virginal vestry, let us proceed as one in the undulating undercurrent that is the undertow of Your own distinct and separate Person and will, coursing of its own accord and independent of me, yet somehow as one with me within my heart as I open myself to You and partake of this everlasting riptide that is your raucous and revelatory, rapturous and receding will to bring me into Yourself, not from within the channel of my will, but rather, from within the channel of Your own.
As we set our souls both upon and from within this one and the same point in space, let us merge in majesty and come together in unity in what is this Mystic Body of Thy Godhead, and this eternal and unfathomable, unquenchable and everlasting, Mystery of the Holy Trinity.
As we pull from the same breast of divine love, and pour ourselves out from an enmeshed and enkindled flame as one in these kindly kindred souls of sorts, let us behold in misery and stand in awe in silence at surveying this stony landscape that takes shape around us, as we pull our enjoined souls apart; and let us rejoice in these red eyes and find solace in relief, that this gap created between us, this chasm and gulph, is destined to fade, as a conjuring crafted for certitude, for stamina for endurance, as a dark walk of coldness in the soul’s chilling abyss, to test our patience and to try our hearts, to determine and discern the truest of inklings, and to unveil and reveal the soul’s true inclination, and incline.
In discovering our desires, in trial and in truth, we learn to bow weakly, like the branch of a stately sycamore, torn off as a switch, and to twist and to bend in buoyant rapture, iron-wrought in temperance of selfless self-restraint.
For in this knowledge of self that is a feat for humility, the prepossessing and self-contained pretention of pride, pliés with the poplar bearing a token of “Strange Fruit.”
And withering in its wistfulness listing a listlessness of languor, the lazy-eyed watchman reports a snail shell nautilus nativity, of newer-than-new Life.
“LISTEN-ASCULTO,” O listen, in Latin it wails, no dark entry will find Me asleep in your rails. Come hither my lashings, with these lashes of eyes, and taste my sweet lifelessly darkening surprise.
As we whittle away in the bellhop’s most terrifying tune, a whisper faints straitly in this whistling lagoon.
A flagon from France and a holy orderly’s blood vial, a blistering boil at the nape of the neck—a heart attack bristles fondly in a breathless exhale.
“It is done!” she outcries, stretched out on a deck. It is done and I’m crying, for I am no longer, a wreck! I am amazed, she sings, at the last leg of the race, a soliloquy Vespers, in an “Amazing Grace.”
Title: “The Condescension of God: As He Drops into Exile an Eavesdropping Eve”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this fresh new morning of Thy love and peace, found in the midst of the troubles of the world and emotional distress, but found to be lasting and to transcend the tempest indeed, of human nature’s clamor and desperation of need.
Please, my Lord, in this lovesick lovelock of piercing eyes and piercing hearts, let us not unfasten our top lips, even though our jaw may jut out, as we “set our faces like flint” and deign not to come undone, in this undoing of composure that wreaks calamity on our souls (Isaiah 50:7, New American Bible, Revised Edition).
In this desperate last glance of love’s darkest stare, the letterhead enlivens this ship’s loose-lipped “livery” regarding a disregard for the Law. In this lawfulness leashed in unleashing the tide, a loose-leafed compound fracture of my bookend’s spine, speaks out its compost in a declaration laying to waste, a slew of forsaken, in choosing their own fate.
“It could be that you cannot serve our God,” Joshua javelins a warning, “For He is a jealous God and requires your faith. So, decide now which God you will serve”; “For you are either with me or against me,” echoes One Holy, in the narrowest of margins in this harrowing hole-punch.
“It can be that you may not be able to serve our God…”; “19 Joshua in turn said to the people, “You may not be able to serve the Lord, for he is a holy God; he is a passionate God who will not forgive your transgressions or your sins. 20 If you forsake the Lord and serve strange gods, he will then do evil to you and destroy you, after having done you good” (Joshua 24:19-20, New American Bible, Revised Edition).
Our God Who… “5 The Lord came down in a cloud and stood with him there and proclaimed the name, “Lord.” 6 So the Lord passed before him and proclaimed: The Lord, the Lord, a God gracious and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in love and fidelity,[b] 7 continuing his love for a thousand generations, and forgiving wickedness, rebellion, and sin; yet not declaring the guilty guiltless, but bringing punishment for their parents’ wickedness on children and children’s children to the third and fourth generation!” (Exodus 34:5-7, New American Bible, Revised Edition). Our God, Who for generations… “but has mercy on all who love Him,” if you will but keep His Commandments! (“O Lord, keep Thy servant back,” I breathe out, under my breath.)
Thou shalt not steal, not lie, not kill, not covet thy neighbor’s goods nor his wife… need this be spoken, should it not go unsaid? It is as clear as day to the conscience of man, and for Me to have to write it out to import it to you, upon Tablets of Stone as the Law in your hearts, is not this indeed a condescension of which I AM unworthy? Do I yet deserve to have to descend, to point out the obvious and declare to you the Law—to repeat to you your own law when you have made gods of yourselves, and gone your own way in the lawlessness of a nation of exiles?
Is this not indeed condescension as I lower myself to you, as I patronize your conscience and state that which it already knows? For in the violation of the Law you are ended, “thou shalt not slander thy neighbor, thou shalt not lie in wait, in an eavesdrop (as so too I dropped Eve),” to ambush a stranger who is yet a neighbor indeed!
Is it not condescension for me to stoop to your stoop, and set flight to your fancy that is gossip malign (“let us listen to him unknown, so that we might have something to say against him”), aimed to immolate in its evil intention while a back is turned, and to retaliate for sunken and lost pride?
For no treasure did you ever have, your hearts torn off in treason, and no God have you ever served with your slander without reason. This is what I describe in declaring the wickedness of men. As in the time of Noah, I perused the sea, and beheld that all had gone astray, not a sheep left for me. This one little ewe lamb has found its way to my heart, while “their wives were all wicked,” the spirits they wedded, and I saw that “the thoughts of man were thoroughly wicked in his heart.” “5 [d]When the Lord saw how great the wickedness of human beings was on earth, and how every desire that their heart conceived was always nothing but evil, 6 the Lord regretted making human beings on the earth, and his heart was grieved.[e] ” (Genesis 6:4, New American Bible, Revised Edition).
Just this one little Noah and this one little Ark, the Ark of my Covenant, and the depth of my heart. Set like flint and with a stiff upper lip, the pure-hearted and their angels do always behold, these little ones in Heaven, the face of their God, the God of Abraham, of Isaac, and of Jacob, of old.
Title: “A Poem: Skeletons in the Garden, of Eden, of Life”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this vast and favorably formulated expanse of Thy will and Thy way, as this lamp of discernment directs our actions towards You, while You stand attendant and ready to guide our course. In this everlasting journey of cooperation, collaboration, and the mutual relationship of loving trust and reciprocity that is our participation in Your will and our partaking of Your Mystic Body, while You in turn respond in kind to us, please grant that we may grow in union and unshakable unity with You, no matter what forces might gather around us, as we gather our souls and our selves, our senses and faculties, above the discord of disharmony and paltry distractions, of the pedantic plebeians and pedestrian pandering of a strictly partisan poverty, to rise above earthly disunity to be as One in Thee.
Please, my Lords,
In this disheveled array of chivalrous stowaways, taking shelter in a soul that has grown firm in You, a spiritual substance like a great Cedar of Lebanon flourishing beside the stream of Your light, let these protective branches providing an oasis of shade and spiritual delights, not grow weary of watchfulness in keeping clear its fine perches and clearing out the debris, to maintain thus a shelter and habitat of virtue, not offering a hideaway to the Thistle nor a defilement to the pure.
Let us grow as one in Thy shadow as we offer this shade, not to the devious or devising, but to the wanderer in need of rest, to the clean-hearted found seeking in search of his Home, to those called in docility to this domicile, this abode.
Let us cast out the Weeds wicked, with not hasty decree, with not imprudence that acts outside of action in Thee.
Let us clear out our paths and make straight our ways, and sweep clean our shores for the Ancient of Days.
Let us brush aside willingly the underbrush afoot, lest it evade winnowing wrongly and in our soil take root.
Let us cast out the Buckthorn but display the sweet Fig, in a figure of fondness as Wisdom is vindicated;
And justified of Her children, Her brethren, Her breath, in an outpouring of fervor that offers Life beyond death.
Let us trample the Tares and give care to the Cypress, let us tend to our Gardens to be not harboring unclean errant souls,
And let us harvest our footpath as this journey we tread, as an example worth following and a life well-led.
Let us not make room for fugitives, hiding furtively in our midst, but let us take pleasure in cleaning House, so that not pulled down we might uplift.
Let us clean out our Gardens, our closets, our homes, our souls from the garbage that usurps your Thrones.
Let us clean our hearts willingly, created in You, and for You we do so diligently, so that the Husbandman shines through.
The True Vine suffers not, to be overridden with pests, but rather tries our hearts, our devotion, our fidelity with tests.
Let us stand up to the challenge and bring forth the good wine, in the Chalice we’ve hidden, to unveil at His time.
Let us bring forth the vintage, the cream of the crop, and let nothing forsake us in not pruning away, the fugitive of the Forest, as slaking we slay.
We set running the rampant and brush out the brushfire, in offsetting that old serpent who would whisper desire.
Our fruit is bidden, with no illicit touch, as the forbidden flees fondly, from our underbrush.
Title: “Unpeel Thy Soul, Taste Thy Sweet Fruit”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this lovely new day, that in the blistering morning of Thy blinding heat, reveals in stark contrast the difference between You and me, sost that I might be ever grateful for the warmth and grace of Thy presence, for no matter what troubles assail me, none is so great as that deathly desolation, that desert of the Spirit and Dark Night of the soul, of being without You, all praise and honor be to You forever and ever.
Please my Lords, in this infinite peace that is the infinite substance of Thy soul, grant that knowing embrace of the eyes, that gaze of lowing awareness and just a general attentive encompassing of You with the understanding of the mind and the grasp and opening of the soul, like the unpeeling of an orange to make known the tender goodness lying just beneath the hardened visage of Your mystery, that beckons, “Open me, unwrap me, keep me peeled like an alertness of eyes,” always seeing You and fixed on that just beneath the surface, that which is spiritual, that which is of You, that which for most, goes Unseen.
In this spiritual grip of the mind’s eye on Thee, let us not become hasty in savoring this spiritual treat, for in suckling at the bosom of God, the Holy Spirit giving nourishment and the milk of compassion and consolation to the soul, let us accept that for great delights and treasure of great worth, come great hardships and trials within the soul, to prove a devotion, to test a desire, and to merit a discipleship, to live apart from the world, in the sense of its mistaken values and views and misplaced, illusory desires, and be at one with You.
Let us accept these spiritual battles to earn Your presence, so acutely felt, and Your honor to be at Your side, and so to merit the gentle grace of Your divine touch in rightly attributing all merit to You and the work of Your grace, as we in turn do our part to properly dispose ourselves to be open channels of Thy will and vessels of Thy grace, not attuned to any will but Thine, not attentive to any master but One, that is You, in the Lord Jesus Christ, and not led astray by any unworthy desire of a heart set on You, as a vice to clamp involuntarily upon the voluntary clamp of the mind, and a temptation to lead us astray from the Way of Perfection, followed through a soul’s one true thirst, the righteous longing for You.
Let us weary ourselves in this line of Your work, that is the line upon a page of the words that proceed from the mouth of the Father, for “Man does not live by bread alone.” And let us sink like hot coals through patience and applied pressure, resisting the urge to run and flee from the pain, but accepting this lot of a lot, to let the fire sink in, as in resisting the urge to move and depart from this crucible an inferno, the coals do penetrate the surface and finally sink through, creating an opening and a portal, a doorway into this Immaculate Heart sealed up rightly, so that only the strong and the steadfast, in endeavoring to enter this “immaculate orange,” O sweet fruit of Thy Spirit, may obtain it, and unpeel Thy divinity, Thy mystery peeking through. For in the trust that is eternal treasure, in Spirit and in truth, the good servant and good soldier must earn his reward and fight for his keep, as we are “our brother’s keeper,” and in the Lord’s arms we shall sleep.
Title: “A Poem: The Tabernacle’s Last Stand (by this Morning Star) The Battle Hymn of a Peace Treaty”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this warm and loving breath of insight into the shoreline’s breach of this fresh new day, as like salty waves we find our purity in You, and as sandy shores we find our embankment upon You.
Please my Lords, in this Tabernacle’s last stand against an infidel’s fallacious rush, let us fix our sights down below as You raise Your winds to the surface, sost that in this fidelity to Your power and mighty force, the rushing of waves, in an exhale as if caught off-guard in being caught up in the throes of calculated inculcation, might bring a blessing to many who had not the chance yet to be caught up in You.
And so from the nations abroad, from infidels comes fidelity and from out of the face of danger comes the face of a friend, with eyes seeing brightly and the flames of the divine billowing widely within them.
As it please You my Lords, let this Last Stand of the Tabernacle, in Spirit in truth, flow forth Your streams of these waters of mercy, making clean indeed all the souls that they touch, and enlivening indeed the mind to holiness with thoughts embedded in You, like jewels set in a crown that is Your halo of grace, for in souls like these who follow You with faith, all Your most treasured and sacred, true glory lies.
Let these waters flowing from the east and the sides, of Your Temple flow forever to equip Your eye in the sky,
As like sagebrush we bristle and bloom with Your scent, like lavender like lilacs, or white lilies heaven-sent.
Let this living water, this line of thought sent from Thee, flow ever more freely, this crushing stampede.
Let these paths to You broaden, for they make straight their ways, and come to see You directly, the Ancient of Yahweh’s.
Let us sing to Thee sweetly, O Day to the soul, and burn to Thee incense that is the cloud yet to lift, from these lives not yet departed, from life lived in faith as Thy gift.
Let us flow from Thee briskly in a tousle of Time’s strands, running through these times like life’s sheet music, as for You this Temple stands.
The living stones of this living Temple, O Body O Head, of the Church the true Tabernacle, Firstborn of the dead;
Let us flow from Thee and to Thee, in the current of Thy waves, as we stream to You willingly like a choir in the naves.
Let us find Thee and follow, and “Take and read,” for in taking and receiving we become as this Host, “Take and eat.”
Let us stand with Thee in Thy fastness, a firmament up above, a fortress of Thy faithful, reborn from infidels. Let us close-in upon Thee by opening up, and find You within us these castles, this Bread and this Cup.
Let us take a stand for the Temple, the Tabernacle of truth, and read into Thee too much, for there’s no quenching You.
Let us make us a Kingdom, born from above, out of these living stones of Thy Temple, to ascend like a white dove.
Let us heed the calling and follow in faith, to the Faith of the True God, in His Church and on high, and return to the Fatherland, as we set out we cry,
“O Father it is You! Bringing Home from afar, the life of this Kingdom, by Your Morning Star.”
Title: “These Doorposts and Lintels, the Shape of the Cross”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this lovely new awakening of Thy grace within, as with this fresh new hope in a fresh new day, we make the most of Thy peace and pray with the best of our hearts, in thoughtful action and contemplative productivity to the best of our ability.
Please my Lords, let this fresh new freedom of Thine instruction in grace be an ensign ever before us, as frontlets over our eyes, bound to our wrists and our hearts, in commemoration of Thy saving power and will towards our liberty, now and forever more.
As the doorposts and lintels of a home kept in You bear the bloodstains of Thy paschal sacrifice, let too the doorways of our hearts bear the blood and the scars of Thy salvific embrace; let these doorposts and lintels be formed in Thine image as we are in Yours, and let us conform and configure our souls and our selves, both in selfless grace and self-reflective pondering, to that cruciform Spectre of that Spectator within us, the life that becomes us whether we like it or not—”For to live is Christ and to die is gain,” for in living as Christ lived it is indeed the epitome and the fulfillment, and climax and crux, of our mission and purpose to give up our lives in sacrifice for the salvation of many, and to embrace and endorse as a Redeemer’s check of purchase (of our freedom from death and from sin) the greater truth and reality of Heaven above for our souls in the Father over our flesh here on Earth.
Let us indeed configure our gateways, in our hearts in our souls, to embrace Your last stand, Your one Final Judgment upon our conformity in You, so that we may too be found standing, in a figure of You. Let us cast and recast, and shape and reshape, these new hearts within us given as a free gift, in the outpouring of grace and life eternal from Thy Son on the Cross. Let us pour ourselves willingly into the mold of the Cross, and let these doorways of His Home within us become as our portals of Heaven, as in living as Christ lived and giving perfectly unto death, scorning not the shedding of our own Passover blood in a martyr’s sprinkling of hyssop, let us let these hearts given to God become what they may, for they are no longer within us to suit the passions of man.
Let these new hearts within us, born of natural flesh and human skin, overcome that stony resistance that is a life declined and forsaken in sin. Let us allow these hearts given by God to shape us as men, as the firstfruits of the Firstborn, only enlivened by a life led in Him. Let us proceed as these doorways to a life eternal in Heaven, as circumcised hearts and obedient souls, and let these doorways become within us, both the path and the goal.
The doorposts and lintels take shape of their own, through a life led within Christ, bearing the blood of His throne. These doorposts and lintels do strangely arrange, into that strait path and narrow, that Calvary brings. The posts draw themselves nearer, and two become one, as the lintels become nearer, to the Earth that buries the Son. These gateways of Heaven, in the hearts of man, become the object of their direction in the perfection of an obedient Lamb. These doorways assume the shape of the Cross, as by living a life like Jesus, in love, Spirit, and trust, we become the Home that they lead to, built in Heaven for us.
“My Father’s House has many mansions. If it were not so I would not have told you. I go there to prepare a place for you…”
Title: “Kept like a Secret, Retained like a Sin”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for the fresh awakening of a bright new day, born in the hollows of my heart and hearkened in the caverns of my nested soul, settled in none but the best, that is, in You.
Please my Lords, grant that in this dire strait of deadened needs, purified of all earthly consolations but not yet arrived upon in that inward release of a soul’s gratitude in You, we may not tire nor toil in idleness, but strive in the Spirit till we are grasped upon by You, as if in this reflection in the looking glass of the soul, its desires become real when they rest wholly upon You, and in reaching out this hand toward Thy peace, it is Your hand that from within my soul reaches back, pulling me into Your vortex of heavenly rebirth, and into the shelter eternal that is held up and supported in the arms of You.
Please my Lords, in this bitterness of heartsick and the soul’s heaviness borne of trespasses against its Spirit, let not the sins of man move forward and make a gain of this heart, but rather, let forgiveness bear witness as what struggles to push through, and let the cowardice of their secrets be the future of their own undoing, as in keeping their secrets my forgiveness too remains hidden from reach, as only in unveiling the inward pain and trials of the soul, its burdens of guilt sans gestures of atonement—confession of what was done wrong made before if along with goodwill gestures of charity, can the sins be rightly forgiven, rather than made to fester like fugitives in an act of concealment, as if charity could ever cover up a grave sin that goes unconfessed!
So let us release from the depths of the heart what we keep there as secrets, for in Heaven above, if it goes still unsaid as we go to our graves, it shall be returned upon us as that sin that we made. We shall receive it back 10-fold, 30, 60, or 90, as in that space of the heart’s prayerful keeping, are these thoughts bound and released, as on Earth so in Heaven.
Let us clear out our hearts of secrets forbidden, for the blood of His Body cries out from the earth, like in Cain conscious of slaying his brother Abel the victim; “Am I my brother’s keeper,” shall be the soul’s new rebirth.
In not keeping our brethren, but the secrets of the slain, we shall bear witness before God as the Earth puts us on trial. These stones shall cry out if you keep our souls from singing, “Hosanna to Christ, blessed is He Who comes in the name of the Lord,” and the Earth shall cry out if you try to retain His blood, in the chasm that separates us; a secret in the heart, is the chasm of the Rich Man and Lazarus, as the below and above.
For in retaining the secret of His blood innocent in the earth, the Earth cries out to Me, and the slain shall be heard. Your forgiveness too shall be stricken, and retained far from thee, like that secret kept covered, as if I could not see! Your secrets you’ve kept, shall be kept in kind, and your sins, your dark secrets, shall be held in store for you after death, as your due rewards decreed by Christ our Judge. As your secrets are retained, as your crimes unconfessed, so too I shall retain your forgiveness, and I shall repay you, upon your very last breath.
Title: “We All Can Agree, ‘Less of Me, More of You’”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this wonderful new morning of Thy continued grace and patient persistence toward Thy strength in Thine eternal hope, lingering not upon earthly dwellings, as spiritual snares in temporal snags, but completing our work and moving on unhindered and unattached, not looking back as like the command given to Lot in departing his city that should burst into flames, bearing in its midst as it does, the activities that signify its own departure from God.
Please my Lords, in this prayerful awakening of the soul in the heart of Thee, let us constrain our thoughts and minds to prevent and upend any extraneous strands of thoughts that deviate from the thought of, or emptiness conducive to this unity and oneness with, Thee.
Let us rein in our thoughts (as like from the “path of temptation”), and constrain our attention to within a purposeful meditative focus, not pinpointed and narrow to a specific aspect of Your being, but rather broadened and expanded to encompass the full scope of Your own mind frame and meditative, 360° range of attention, in just a general loving awareness of Your infinite and indistinct presence, suspended, as it were, in a levitation of Spirit within the innermost heart and soul of man, clinging not to any particular or specific or verbal and intentional thought of Thee or these surroundings, but suspended above all fixations of the mind’s eye, or superfluous and extraneous objects of attention, to become as within Thee in this setting the way that You perceive it; accepting all, transcendent yet imminent, and superseding all lesser and subsequent, ancillary and tangential realities, in being firmly grasped by You and held close in Your love to the one true reality which You claim as Your own and share with us Your creatures as a gift that is ours.
Let us my Lords, in this state of internal suspension over things material, as wholly disentangled and disencumbered from all thoughts and fixations (attachments) of terrestrial origin, let us proceed with due diligence in our loving awareness to carry out the necessary functions of Your work and complete Your purposes for us, rather than disturb and disrupt this state in scrambling and clamoring to perform the daily work indicated by our own desires, spun in a selfish love for our own accomplishments and the implicit need for “selfhood” that is the selfishness inherent in them.
Let us let go of self-appraising to determine if we measure up to earthly standards, for these minute little movements that are judgments of the intellect pull us apart from that sweet release into love and blind faith that is divine union with You, as it is so surely attained in loving trust, if we are so careful not to depart from this divine faith and return back into that natural power of the intellect, that is so clearly the work of man and so devastatingly not the supernatural work of one so completely and selflessly given into You.
In the resounding voice of John the Baptist, who indeed it was as the greatest of saints, please allow my Lords, that there may be “less of me and more of You,” or as an allusion to that “Light that shineth in the darkness,” and doubly so, reflected in the ascetic purity of the mirror of a truly clean soul, “He must become greater, I must become less”; “He must increase, and I must decrease,” all glory and honor to You my God, Who becomes so much more in me and to me as I become less and give way to You.
Title: “Cast Your Nets for the Cast Away; ‘I’m Sure’”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this wonderful new morning of Thy continued grace and peace, found, however briefly and for however fleetingly a moment, only within the soul in a miracle of mystery and marvel so transcendent and divine, that that one brief little moment is forever impressed and imprinted upon the memory and stored in the eye of the mind, as a treasure for eternity to be visited and revisited, and cherished and recalled, over and over again, forever and ever.
Such is the greatness of just the tiniest of touches and smallest of tastes and briefest of glimpses of You in Your glorious majesty, my Lord, to Whom be praise and honor forever and ever.
Please, my Lords, in this holy and universal inclusion of Thy creation within the bounds of Thy reach and the strength of Thy love, grant that in this infinite web of sticky and sinewy support, we may find as one our place in this structure, with all the integrity of scruples and all the compunction of a firm foundation upon which has been built the framework of a solid Temple, in the mind frame of this soul and in the firmament of Heaven, to provide lasting peace for us as living structures of Thy grace, embodying all the analogies of Thy making and imbibing all the sweet comparisons of the soul to the body, of things unseen to things seen, for in the life we have come to build for ourselves after our death on this earth, these mysteries and marvels of “things Unseen” shall no longer remain hidden, and the things that are now seen shall receive new life in new meaning again.
Please my Lords, as entrenched as we are in this harbor of Thy safety, as we pull in from the rafters to shore these life rafts of hope, let us maintain this unfailing certainty, this sureness of heart, that is the shoreline to be visited by the soul after death, who has travelled successfully across that vast ocean of the unknown, to arrive in this vessel of faith and lifeboat of hope through receiving one by one Your lifelines of grace, and heeding one by one the S.O.S. calls of Thy crystalline and clairvoyant cries of Thy Spirit to our heart.
As we heed Your call and voyage to safety, answering the message to rescue a lost craft, we find to our amazement that the mayday call for rescuing a ship found in peril, is the salvation of our souls in the saving of the ship. “Whatever you have done to the least of these,” the very least indeed, “you have done for me”; “And whatever you have not done for the least of these, you have not done for me.” The words of our Lord, Master and Commander of this ship, steer my understanding and guide my heart to knowledge, as in this vast sea that is the expanse of the unknown, the lifeboat of faith bounces upon a buoy of hope, in a newfound freedom obtained from newfound lessons of love.
“Just keep your eyes fixed on Me,” says that Man in my heart, the one affixed to the crucifix around my neck, “and all will be well, if not now, then forever,” He grins, in a most sheepish smile. I get the joke, as this soul strays not when it’s weary, but tightens its grip and battens down the hatches. The sails catch wind in their tautness as I catch wind in my breath, and the Spirit of our Lord uplifts my raft. This life is not lost, a second wind assures me, and in catching my breath as He catches up, I catch a glimpse in that mirror the soul, as the miraculous drought like a thought is pulled ashore.
…Oh, “I’m sure,” I retort, making a joke He will get, as I know He receives me. And I catch the feeling, that I’m not the only one.
Title: “The Crystalline Spider, One Web We Weave”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this warm and welcoming new morning, as a gift of Your divine presence to upon the doorstep of my heart. Please, my Lords, in the infinitude that is Your love for us, I implore Thee to welcome us in kind to that formidable gate that is the opening to Your heart, so that as You are in me, I too may be in You, and we may all be complete and as one with this gift of Your Spirit interwoven between us.
Please my Lords, as like dewdrops glistening upon the transparent strands of a spider’s silky web of truth and beauty, let Thy jewels of wisdom be in our mind, as like the pearls set upon your gate, enmeshed in our hearts, built into our structure, and recognized with ease to be let go of with just as much ease and facility, taking them as they come without clinging nor clambering, for they do stick so to this web as to the grasping reaches of the mind, and we must take care not to tangle this gentle grace with our cloying clutches.
Please, my Lords, in this willowy watchtower that is this spidery spy’s testament and trapdoor, let us finagle our fingers and secure the weave, from woof and warp to the treetop and the tree, illumining in a most enchanted forest of paradise the ins and outs of Thy workings and Thy wonders, with the metaphors of Thy majesty set deep within the realistic depiction of these conceptual models brought to life. The mustard seed makes way as the mulberry lifts, the missing drachma is found with the lost sheep as the widow bestows her all with her two mites; the prodigal son keels over in gratitude, bursting with the Father’s mercy at the seams of this renting of his heart, and the cast nets of the Apostles break not in this miraculous catch, as the soldiers cast lots on the coat sewn without seam. A heart that cannot be measured, for its infinitude in divine grace, gives its all, its life and creation, as a gift that greets us all with its welcome, from Jew to Gentile, from pagan to priest, as we move with the treetop canopy in this nesting of a white dove, winnowing all souls to safety in the cleansing of our sins.
Please, my Lords, in this wilderness of fancies, where all tripwires are illumined in the light of Thy wisdom, like pearls like dewdrops upon the strands of a spider’s silky web, let us rest assured that this spider shall save us, and come to our rescue as we trip the switch of sin—purging us of impurities and saving us from ourselves; for in our God’s creation there is no greater misery than the death caused by sin, and there is no greater cruelty or wretchedness to be known, that that which dwells in the hearts of men. So as this spider glistens and glimmers, with its sapphire blue crystalline eyes, let its watch and its watchtower never tire of Christ’s see, as in believing is seeing, and this belief is true to that Almighty Three. Let these flies in our web, as if of one Beelzebub, find their Creator come cunningly with the pulling of threads. As that trip switch is triggered and the alarms are set off, as if from stepping through an unseen laser beam in the darkness of sin, let the garden and the Guardian come swiftly to cast out the unclean, and let this web’s honest inhabitants give thanks to our Host, for providing such safety, O come Holy Ghost.
Title: “A Treatise on Jeremiah 17”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this lovely new day and for all the grace of Your presence with which You so generously bestow me, as I seek You in the deepest recesses of my heart, and cling to You in the most fundamental beliefs of my mind. Please my Lords, in this new morning of Your resounding peace, please allow this: that in this most untimely and unfathomable coming of Thy grace, in Spirit, truth, and splendor, that we may be found willing no matter how ready we are, to let go of our lot, to put aside these nets we cast, and to forsake all that we have and all that we are, in favor of Thy greater truth and reality, our greater need for Thee over this temporal world, and the greater calling of Your servants into the following of the one true Master, that is the one true God in Christ Jesus forever.
Please grant that in this most distinguishing feature of Your chosen disciples, we too may heed Your call and follow our Lord, stopping dead in our tracks and dropping all of our tasks to turn about-face, in a conversion of sorts, to give ourselves freely and willingly to You, for whatever purposes You might have in store for us and for whatever service You might wish to “requisition these troops,” as it were. Please grant that in the obedience of the true sheep to the true Shepherd, the Good Shepherd that is, we may drop everything and listen, when we hear Your call in the depths of our hearts; that we may heed Your voice like a battle cry when our number has been called, so that we may prove ourselves to be grateful children of God indeed, and children of the light in adhering to the truth which is one with us as we are one with You, in these webs of our weaving and stories of our fold—this flock of the sheep of the Good Shepherd, and these fishers of men of the true Master, Christ the Lord Jesus of Whom there is no other.
Let us adhere to Your teachings, Your gospel of old, and entertain not any undue speculations in the tall tales of men as the temptations of the heart. “For there is nothing more treacherous or torturous than the hearts of men, and God tests the hearts of all His chosen servants to prove their love for Him.”
So grant please, my Lords, as Thy “Gate of Benjamin” burns with each lofty exhale, that the exile You have planned and in store for some of us may serve rather to try our hearts to prove us in faith, as trusting and obedient followers of You, in what is true, than to condemn these fallen structures of souls built upon sand, in the shifty eyes of lying hearts and the darkness of spirit that is the uncleanness of an unconfessed soul. Please grant, that as Your fury is unleashed as fire upon this “Gate of Benjamin,” as like the walls of Jericho in the last trumpet blast, that we may demonstrate repentance and prostrate ourselves, in humility of spirit and contriteness of heart; “for sacrifices or alms you desire not, but a poor and contrite spirit rendered in truth, as we rent our hearts not our garments.” We shall undo our undoing and gather our courage, to make right the lies that are darkness to Your greatness in the shadows of our hearts. We shall offer You the sacrifice You require in “lifting not these burdens on Thy Sabbath,” that are the cargo and baggage of our unclean spirits in Your creation, covered as it were, in the black soot prescient of Your coming wrath, from these burdens of sins and of lies harbored and still unconfessed; unadmitted as crimes we remain in kind unadmitted to Your Kingdom, in these hearts of men.
Title: “A Moral Defect Reaps its Due: When Stupid will not Learn”
Alt. Title: “Not so Stupid After All: B.S. and a Pair-a-Bull”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this lovely new morning of Thy most persistently pursued grace and peace, born in the patience and importunity of an honest devotion and tireless tenacity. Please, my Lords, in this fresh new day of Your longest exhale, let this Spirit of life and breath of creation burst forth from within the void and abyss of this fully-fathomed as unfathomable, ancient and everlasting heart; created in Thine image and likeness, planted in the soil of a tender soul, uprooted from the earth of man and material, and grafted back onto You, the True Vine, and born anew as if from above, in the Spirit of God to life everlasting.
Please, my Lords, in this temperance of tempestuous recitations, let Thy will reign supreme in truth and in love, above all fleeting attachments, above both all earthly loves and resentments, and above my own desires, to fulfil those of Your own determination at the instigation of Your Spirit, in the interest of truth and justice made sovereign in a land made in internal integrity, by virtue of virtue itself in Thy Ten Words uttered as Commandments to bring us to knowledge of life and love.
Please my Lords, as my soul recedes to the darkest recesses of my innermost mind, the Logos of an interior life lived both inwardly and visible without, let Thine urgings of freedom and grace find their truth in Thee, and let this landing in Your heart, set aloft in Thy Spirit and reclaimed in Thy Son, find its necessary fruition in the hearts of men as the good fruits of good trees that are the healthy and heeded consciences of honesty and purity, made evident in straightforward and upright living.
Please let these practices of purification, to winnow away and weed out the defilements brought about through the sin of consciences unripened (unrepented), and underdeveloped as bitter fruit through an absence of healthy soil and a poisoned atmosphere of mankind’s own malice and malignant toil; please let these undesirable fruits of wayward and wanton trees that are the hearts of dishonest and immoral, incorrigible, corrupt men, find their resting place upon the threshing floor of a harvested city, if in receiving an extra year of extra fertilizer in more carefully tended maintenance they, like in the parable of the barren fig tree, prove themselves incapable of bearing “incorrupt” fruit.
As wisdom is vindicated of her children, so too is culpable ignorance proven by her own children, and if the foolish will not learn, to be honest, forthright, and forthcoming, then they are to be cast into the fire, where the flame is not quenched and where their worm shall not die, to make room for the abundance of good trees, who have indeed proven themselves capable of bearing good fruit.
If “stupid will not learn,” to be upright and honest, then it is not a matter of the intellect at play, but the source of the corruption is a defiled moral conscience and the problem is not of inferior minds but of inferior souls, in refusing to adhere to the light that is truth is the midst of this darkness that should give way to faith, for those who because of their good souls and clean consciences, can and do readily place their trust in God—for their heart attests to itself that it is in the right place as they attest to what is right in deviating not from the path of honesty, integrity, and decent upright living.
So as the threshing floor of a thoroughly scourged and scalded, scolded and scythed, pillaged and plundered, reaped and ransacked city bears the visible produce, fruits, and offspring of each and every last tree, then the harvest is ripe for the picking and the distribution of goods to their most suitable destinations, as the good fruit are set in the storehouses to nourish its people, and the bad fruit are set aflame, to see if their foundation at least is worth salvaging as founded of Christ, or if they shall bear witness of utter desolation and char down to dust and ash, coming forth from trees to be cast in the furnace to make room for more good trees and fresh growth.
The fields are white with the heads of the grain and the harvest time is nigh—will this wheat show its good seed within the chaff of its exterior, or will it all burn away with the husk, when winnowed in the threshing fan, as containing no grain, no soul deemed fruitful, and no conscience that is the heart, attesting to itself with its unseen yet very real, spiritual substance, blossomed within the safe harboring of a sacred and sanctified soul.
Title: “Land Mass and Shark’s Teeth Rows”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this wonderful morning of Thine inspired peace in the hope of love, and of all these transported memories, as recollections of successfully placed hope in You, as we are brought as one to the shores of Your imagining, as if tucked safely under Your wing in the flight of Your own heart’s most secret hideaways.
Please my Lords, in this lead of Your most truthful inspiring, let us move as one through these waves of the waters, waves of the tempest, waves of heat, and waves of hands in this throng of people caught in the last gust of Spirit to alight upon Thy fertile shore. Let us move as one in this sea of people, this Body of Christ, this land Mass. Let us move as one to arrive upon the coastline of Thy targeted destination, this heart of our enjoining and crux of our exhale. Let all these holy exiles, in this gust of wind that is the gasp of Your Spirit, open our arms in a smooth exhale in the yawning and wake of this vast expanse and massive sea, of all Your faithful who have so made it through and overcome through Christ to arrive upon Your pearl-studded gates, gasping as it were with the ebb and flow of its Founder, and rising above the faltering of faith or foundering of sinkholes in this quicksand of the Last Standers; successors of Thine heavenly heritage as inheritors of Thine Holy City, enduring all, forsaking all but You to have arrived upon this goal, and made as one in You through this unity of our hearts and the secret of our success, that is Thy Spirit within us succeeding for us as we give up of ourselves to allow for the divine grace to work that is of You.
As like in a triple-exhaled unity, these reclaimed of the earth’s unity make three clean sweeps in simultaneous motion at three different points in time, and these three who are at a loss for none, claim all into the scope of Your nets through the Venn diagram overlap of our fanned-out periscopes, clicking into alignment, gathering in the designated catch determined by the parameters of this crystalline soul-scope, and then snapping back into place as one to gather up the herd and these miraculous fishes from three different points of view within three different points of time, all Yours, all true, and all holy within the confines of Your grasp, as in Your realm we dwell to be claimed by our true Father as children of You.
As we give up to make room and give way as the Spirit makes way, it is as if we never give up at all, but rather reversely, just the opposite—far from giving up we appear to be growing in in strength, growing in numbers, doubling our efforts, all in unison catching that second wind of energy and inspiration, to bombard, counteract, and dumbfound our foes who are not our foes at all but Yours, in that bird’s eye view that we of ourselves see not nor are privy to, in our penances and privations, but which we adhere to nevertheless as we put our faith in effort and our trust in You.
As like the rows of teeth sunken into a shark’s jaws, when one gives up, another immediately rushes forward to take its place, in this one body of Christ’s one Body, and each new breath of wind and release of efforts is yet stronger, sharper, fiercer and more ferocious than the last, as in giving up of our own avail we give way to the Spirit of God that dwells within us, just waiting to take our place at the most opportune time, be it the most inopportune for those who would see us fall, just to pick apart the carcass as the eagles gather together, and the hawk circles overhead.
In this long line of inward succession, we infinitely and eternally replace each other, always stronger, faster, quicker than before, as each preceding the next gives up in this ever-reborn, ever-rising quickening Spirit, born to rise above the quicksand of a sunken nest. For this buried treasure of a risen corpse is set over the crow’s nest of an intransmutable ship, set to sail to the Motherland through the Father’s land that lives inside. “The Kingdom of God is within you,” I said. “That’s what I said,” I said. And so I say, “And we all three exhale.”
Title: “The Flaming Sword, a Will Forged of Fiery Steel”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this lovely new day and for all the grace of Your presence with which You so generously bestow me, which is this much-sought-after sign of Your fidelity, as I respond in kind with my adherence to You and Your Word, in thought and prayer, and deed and action.
Please my Lords, in this wonderful mystery of Thine most magnanimous and multifaceted will, wielded to Thy greater glory still, and ever more still in this stillness of quiet and solitude in the most interior landscapes of the mind’s inner eye, let us craft the workings of this will with thoughtfulness and great care; forging this shining steel from the most resilient of all malleable metals, grinding it to a smooth finish and finely-tuned point in this careful training of discipline and diligence whist toiling against the drudgery and desolation of Thy millstone, and wielding it at once and at a moment’s notice, without hesitation and within the strict confines of Your graceful guidance, letting no Word of its flame go unsaid and keeping to within the refined edges of its double-edged sharpness; as with all the quickness of a quickening Spirit this sword, that is the Word of God forged in the crucible of life’s demand, is the flaming sword twisting about a strong arm held steady as its Head turns east, that shall sever flesh from bone, muscle from tendon, and ligament from filament, that is, soul from Spirit, if its double-edged Word, like a sharp tongue splayed like forked flames descending on Pentecost, is called into action to fulfil the will of its Creator.
For though the necessity of free will is a common denominator placing us all on the same level and playing field, this is not meant to be the highest level of human attainment. As man suffers not to give in to his own human-generated inclinations, he suffers rather to subdue himself and conquer his sea of passions to ascend in Spirit to performing the will of God, by that God-given freedom of free will, to do whatsoever he chooses; and it is in this renunciation of his own life and will and strivings for the greater life and will and strivings that are of God and not of man, that are not human, but superhuman and divine, that man rises to his higher calling, and gains company with the highest order in this inner circle of divine harmony, that flows in concentric ripples at this most high frequency of the Most High God, Elohim forever.
It is in this suffering of man to suffer not his own desires, but to yield only to the will of God that forges his will of steel in this furnace and crucible of fire, and it is in this fire of mortal ashes reborn as an immortal living flame, of love as it were, that this freedom and free will to choose is exalted to its highest and most elevated form in selfless glory; glory to God, and not to man. It is in this crucible of desperation and intolerable desolation that man reaches his highest potential and his finest hour, in choosing again and again—God, God, God—until not a shred of his tattered and tatted corruptibility is left to bear witness to itself, but for the words that it silently speaks, clear as day in black and white.
It is in this great suffering that man is at his most prime and pliable and pivotal moment, tested, as it were, with the company of angels to transform a mortal will into incorruptible steel; unsheathed and shrieking on the battlefield in a blaze of blood and streaming glory, and steaming and shimmering in transfigured splendor as it transfixes the enemy, it raises the stakes as it raises the dead, and levels the playing field in stark relief; as to the relief of the contenders and spectral spectators alike, the exalted is brought low in the descent of the Spirit, and all are to receive Him, as man’s lowest common denominator, receives a much needed boost, in the Most High God.
Title: “Competition is Nun”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this lovely new morning that is this breath and awakening of grace and peace, sustained in the suspension of my mind’s eye atop the earthliness of thought and thistle, and toil and clamor, that is the mundane existence upon the material level. Please grant that in this heightened state of enlightened awareness, of You and of things spiritual attained through the detachment from and disregard of all else, of both distraction and delight, we may come to a greater understanding of You, as You in this relationship become for us a new life and the true life, as the last melts seamlessly into the distance, as like background noise to be tuned out as we tune these instruments, this heart, this lung, this vessel of Thy will and this soul, to be instruments of divine grace and harmony, channeling the peace of Thy will.
Please my Lords, as the bulwarks of our boundaries seep into the doldrums of another day, let us find calmness in the quiet and rest in the silence, as a much needed Sabbath and break from the rush of life as we like baptismal bathers tend our needs in the rushes, whilst the basket weave of a Mosaic ordinance awaits our attention, to be found in these shallow waters of the mind as the turbulence of the great depths dies down, to show what’s washed ashore and what waits downstream as we allow a trickling current to carry us apart from our labors, as we are couriered with our own message, in a pace brought low from crusade to cruise, and in a level brought low from flood watch, to well-watered vegetation at the water’s rippling edge.
Please my Lords, in this precious pearl of meditation, and dire strait to the tune of “Peril on the Sea,” let us as one, in one unified, swift smooth motion, lift up our oars and with the movements of Your undercurrent of breathing, let us row to shore with the effort of our hearts, as we find in the synchronicity of our slow smooth exhale that these hearts of spiritual substance and ripened fruit of the soul, are as lungs to our Spirits unseen and as both the wind and the sails, to these frigates and freighters, these ships and steamboats, these canoes and gondolas, these mariners and marines, who have picked up the call and joined in the cause, to cling to spiritual substance as that Rock of Old Jerusalem; to be brought in Spirit to the land of the living; from the waters of the dead and drowning, to the new life of the new Ark and the New Jerusalem—as we are all manifested as one from within that new Rock, that is the indestructible and incorruptible substance of God and Christ and life eternal within the soul.
These joined forces, these ships and sailors together with our Lamb and Priest, this vast collection of wearied travelers and tried and tested, true children of God and tired pilgrims, come as huddled Masses to within the shadows of that towering obelisk, that figure in the distance, that alabaster lampstand that shall not remain beneath in a Mosaic basket, and that copper fuse that refuses to forfeit what it has lit—this statue, this symbol, this beacon of our migration, this figurehead stands for our cause, and stands for us, until we can all stand on our own two feet in “the blazing glory of burnished bronze, as if of baby booties cast in the crucible” that is the Day of the Lord’s wrath, to be recast as our armor-plating and refashioned with Thy truest steel; “an iron rod of Moses to hold above our heads, with Aaron and with Hur,” scaffolding our statutes as we become as statuesque with Thy grace—for in the divine love of Christ, we shall not rest till all have attained that glowing salvation that is the life in the New Jerusalem of God, and we shall not give in until all have reaped in the rewards of true life made eternal, beyond the condemnation of scanty shipwrecked structures, burning like The Towering Inferno with cut corners and weakness of moral integrity, doomed to ruin in eternal death (Revelation 1:15; Exodus 17:10-13, New American Bible Revised Edition).
In this Day of the Lord, with the wrath of His coming blazing before Him as the world is set on fire; “I have come to set the world on fire, and oh that it were already burning that my work may be done”; and in this baptism by fire and the Holy Ghost at His Second Coming, O that we were all burning with Him, and standing as one, as stronghearted, willing, and able to “tread the winepresses within,” and withstand this inferno in faith, as like “three men seen in the fire, with one as like the Son of Man,” and to prove our stance in God as tried and true as we stand with Him on the Day of His coming (Luke 12:49; Revelation 19:15; Daniel 3:91-92, New American Bible Revised Edition). “For the Day of the wrath of the Lamb is coming, and who shall stand?” (Revelation 6:16-17, Authorized King James Version).
He shall not rest until He sees us all stand in truth and in the fire, the Spirit, of God; for He means not to knock us down, but to lift us up such that we can stand on our own two feet. “If God is with us, then who can be against us?” (Romans 8:31, New American Bible Revised Edition). The lord is our Contender, as we all contend for each other in the love born of His Spirit, and in this Spirit of fellowship, cooperation, and enjoined unity, wishing for each of us that all should succeed—competition is “Nun.”
Title: “At My Command: Heeling and Healing”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this lovely new day of Thy continued patience and persistence, as battling atop the trials of an arduous new undertaking, these traits of tenacity and determination make all the difference, between pain and plight, difficulty and desolation, and success and succumbing to weakness.
Please my Lords, in this new battleground of a new day, let us test our readiness and devotion with new challenges to our strengths, and bring up the rear of a harvest’s reaping by hemming in all loose ends, stitching up all open wounds of weak spots and vulnerabilities in inclinations towards vices, and pulling in all stray stragglers and unstructured situations, to provide for the maximum of quality control in this day’s divvying up of portions, allotments of work hours, and protection from harmful influences during the completion of our tasks.
Please my Lords, as we grow as one in harmony and unity in the background bleakness of a broken heart and a broken Body that is life on this Earth, in this wretched world, let us not lose sight of Your workings within the foreground of these events and actions of the body, and within the foreground of my mind’s thoughts and my inner eye’s visions as I keep You held closer than a prayer through the truth in faith.
And let us please, my Lords, forsake not the gentle urgings of Your tug upon our heartstrings, as You call us into Your realm and to within the repertoire of Your own loving Person’s performances, confined to the songs of sacred praise, loving worship, and passionate wonder, reaching as You do, for Your own favorite piece, Your “singing harp” and “golden fiddle.”
Let us, my Lords, be a willing accompaniment to the songs of Your heart, and pliant, well-tuned strings upon the baseboard of Your instrument, receptive to the touch of Your fingers as like to ivory upon the keys, as You press and imprint Your will into the secret and subtle and most sensitive substance of our soul, crafting it to respond to Your command, to heed the prayer of Your call, and to produce the playing of Your order, “as like the child Wisdom playing before the creation of Your world, bringing delight to Your soul and rest to Your mind,” enlightening Your heavy heart and heavy Head with the inspired innocence and natural generosity of its childlike manner (Proverbs 8:26-31, New American Bible Revised Edition).
Let us heed Your call and heal to Your healing touch, as we open ourselves only to You in the gentle embrace of Your good will and our trusting candor. Let us break off a heel to You of our broken Bread, divided in the sharing of our supper amidst the sharing of our souls, hearts, thoughts, and minds—and let us try to undo the harm done in the past by “raising our heel not against You,” as in that breach of betrayal of Your own brethren, but let us now offer You the heel of our harvest bread, turn on our heel to hurry to Your call, and heal at Your command as You do so ordain and deign to establish us at Your bedside of this manor (John 13:18, Authorized King James Version).
With all the gratitude of a weary traveler left for dead and brought home by a Good Samaritan, like a Good Shepherd in disguise, let us pay it forward, that which is now in our hearts as the effect of Your giving, and put forth as alms of action and works of mercy the theological virtue of charity that presides so over our hearts. Let us show our love by proving our gratitude in passing it along and planting a seed of Your love and Your Word in the needy soil of the soul of the next man, never looking back but always putting forth our energies in spreading Your will of graciousness and generosity to where it is needed and in the ways it is needed most, as intertwined as one as we are in this intricate weave of these strands of time. For we shall be those to whom Christ shall say, “Come as lambs to sit at my right—for whatever you did for the least of these you did to Me”—and it shall echo in our souls, at this saying of His words, from the bottom of the hearts of the least of these, “My God, it is me”; and “My God, it is Thee!”
Title: “The Pearl of Great Price, of Focused Meditation”
(With a Note Postscript)
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this lovely new day of a wearied new awakening, strong in Your arms, sent in Your world, still in Your midst, and steady in Your pace, to remain as one in Your grasp and to continue to contemplate Your being, searching You out with my mind and turning You over in the pondering of my grasp. In this understanding that is the apprehension of Your truth, as like a blindfolded participant in a party game, I feel You out with my hands to make sense of what my eyes cannot reach; and like a blindfolded participant in a party game, You smile fearlessly in faith already knowing all the rules, having laid them down Yourself beforehand. And like a blindfolded participant at a party game, we pull away the blindfold after a good showing with the feel of faith, and survey what was that mystery in our midst, what was that reach that we grappled with, and what is left to be discovered now that we observe the hidden landscape, but for the growth of our love for each other in this relationship that shall ever remain as new, for in Thine eternal infinitude, there is always a new aspect of You and a new journey unto “us” to be yet discovered.
Please my Lords, as like in the undoing of a thin silk ribbon from around my neck, so let us undo ourselves from the grasp of any earthly inclinations that so confine and ensnare the heart, with all the gentleness and delicacy of gauzy light fabric, draped almost unknowingly to us over the freedom that would claim our hearts otherwise. Let us lift the veil, brush off the dust, ask forgiveness beneath that sheer veneer of ashes, and dry off the tears from flood-soaked garments, rent and torn and died like with pigments under the overarching undertow of Your claim to victory and claim over us, evidenced and envisaged in that bow in the sky, tied upon You with our untying it from upon ourselves and our own claim to a life and a lot upon this Earth, and now manifested as divinity’s claim upon us as that rainbow over the ark and a crown of glory over Your Head.
Let us wash away the memories of a past life that cannot be too soon forgotten, by allowing it to be the new residence of a yet unrealized hope in You, for it is in that hope not yet attained, the vision not yet seen, that this elusive essence of hope itself finds its life, and it is in this ungraspable thing to be grasped at, that we shall indeed find our salvation—not bound up in string and tied with a bow, out of silky ribbon like an earthly gift, but wound up as string to enchant us with its layers, as in unravelling layer after layer of gusseted, gauzy threads, the mystery dwindles not, nor decreases in size, nor diminishes, dissipates, and disappears and vanishes away; but rather, in the unwrapping of this mystery, this ever-present gift of Thy Holy Spirit to our soul, deposited into that vast reservoir that is the floodwaters and baptismal font of our Times New Roman faith—in this ever-present gift, it ever increases in the unwrapping, it grows new jewel-like diamond facets in the turning over and the pondering of it in our minds, and it grows ever more precious in our hearts and eyes as we gaze at it ever more fondly, gape at it with ever more agapē, and behold it with evermore strength in our grip, that is the undivided attention and concerted focus of efforts wielded in our mind by the pureness of intention of a pure heart, set singly and solely on You in love.
As we unwrap this ever-present gift, it does indeed grow in glory, as like the sheen upon salty saltwater pearls upon the touch of human fingers, and the oily anointing of human tenderness from the moisture of our touch. Like that jewel of purest Wisdom, that pearl of great price, that meditative stance of the soul set firmly upon its foundation of You, the Kingdom of God within, this gift grows more precious as we treasure it in our hearts, and it gleams ever more brightly like a strand of soft white pearls as we finesse each bead with the touch of silvery transparent fingertips, bound as we are like beads in a chain, to this Prayer of our hearts set stone-cold upon You. And so we claim in the soul’s refrain; “Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee…”
To Dr. Sorensen and your environmental ethics class from Ursinus College in the fall of 2009—you are all going to burn in hell forever because of what you did to me, you rapists and criminals, because you slandered me to justify yourselves in your crimes, after tying me up, beating me and brutally raping me, in a class session, and you have never confessed to authorities to receive your justice and your due in punishment and jail here on earth—instead you tried to cover it up, and in doing so you have only made your crimes worse. Because you choose not to confess and have thus far escaped justice here on earth, you and everyone associated with the criminal actions you perpetrated, will burn forever in hell after the time of your death.
-“God bless” to those who deserve God’s blessings, but not to you.
Title: “My Soul Magnifies the Lord: The Three Stewards and Tenant Farmers Reap Their Due” (A Synthesis of Three Parables)
(Description: “A Synthesis of the Parable of the Talents, the Parable of the Sower, and the Parable of the Wicked Husbandmen”)
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this lovely new day and for this warm, welcoming gaze that is the gift of Your grace and the glass of Your globe, as like a perfect transparent crystal carved for the magnification of Your heavenly firmament, the divine light above this earthly sky, glowing like lightning through Your eye.
Please, my Lords, as we set sail through the winds of this window to the soul, indeed its very own vision illumined in the dark light of faith, let us pull together and hold our ship secure, as the waters pouring through the loosening of these floodgates show no sign of abating and are quenched not in this wellspring of hope, but rather flow with all the more jubilation as we try to snuff them out. For these waters are like a glimmering fire, a stream of brimstone seeping out from before Your mouth and flaring from Your nostrils, and a glowing jetstream showing us where our energies are going and where our energies have been, leading us on as like with the showing of smoke before fire, and showing us where we’ve yet been as like the molten lava of a volcano blanketing the scorched earth; or the floodwaters of the Nile revealing lush waterside vegetation on its fertile banks; or like the blanket of snowfall covering the earth, showing us where the storm has hit.
For Your water, Your fire, Your frost and Your storm, reveal like a magnifying glass the true nature of what to expect at Your coming—the sin that must be scorched will be burned like the petrified graveyard of an ancient forest fire, or like the charred and red-hot, molten ground revealing the wreckage of an active and erupting volcano; and the land that has been good in Your eyes appears ever more so, as bursting into life with lush foliage and botanical gardens just as much as the volcano erupts in fury upon the heads of the unjust.
In the coldhearted souls of the indifferent among men, lukewarm in their apathy and unfeeling in their culpable negligence, the barren wasteland of a Siberian wilderness takes shape, as lifeless as a Sahara Desert but for the frostbitten nip of the freezing climate, and the snow-covered ground showing no tendency towards tenderness or readiness to thaw.
Your mighty presence, my Lord, when shown upon one land tended by three different villagers with three different hearts, one enkindling Your fiery wrath, one bearing the good fruit of Your good Word, and one cold and frozen over in its cold-hearted lack of love and subhuman, subzero indifference—while these three lands may look the same during our stewardship of this land, when the Householder and Owner of the vineyard returns from His hiatus, Your presence, my Lord, shall magnify both our sins and our perfections, bringing in thirtyfold, sixtyfold, or a hundredfold of our reaping to upon our own heads.
Where there is but one sin and no love, there appears a forbidden wasteland of fiery desolation, and where there are bursting forth virtues of innocence and good deeds, Your volcano of divine power erupts in a beautiful flourishing lushness of grace and fresh growth, in a verdant garden bursting forth with tropical new life. Your presence, that is that glass, that crystal, that divine essence that magnifies in the soul, shall bring to its fullest all that is born forth of You, and scorch away in the fuller’s lye all that is grown and harvested from a seed that is not Yours but of earthly origin in these hearts of men, and buried in ground bearing not the good soil of the true soul—where only Yours will grow.
Title: “Centering Prayer and the Eye of the Storm”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this wonderful new day of Thy supreme grace and beneficence, in this fresh new morning of hope and peace. As I stand ever-ready by Your side, enthralled in effervescence and enmeshed in the weave of Your divine fortitude, forged of fire and in persistent patience made as one with the true light of Your purest charity, please let us adhere without resistance to the precision of Your point, like the tip of a pen painstakingly piloted over the script of a page without lines, as we maintain a balance of focus and perspective that is only attained by the force of the will given wholly over to You, and the accruement of merit by the virtues of the heart, imbued with divine grace through this unmerited favor, the gift of perfect love from You.
Please my Lords, in this perfect center of a heart revolving and rotating only around You, its celestial and risen Son and true axis and crux of ultimate spiritual origin, let us maintain this gravitational pull and earthly crunch; against the form and matter of life’s bodily becoming; amidst the plentitude of worldly distractions successfully absorbed, assimilated, and ignored; and inside the soul, pulling upon the milk and living water of Your Word as like an infant at the breast of its mother.
Let us maintain this center, this verifiable fruit and offspring of a successfully entered and completed “centering prayer,” as we yet dwell within life’s temporal complications, as we yet fulfill the duties of Martha while staying true in our hearts and minds, simultaneously with our day’s work, to that internally-attained “prayer of contemplation” of Mary, and rich religiosity of a nurtured and well-tended interior life, brought up with success to the scorn of this world’s values, and cultivated inwardly in kindness when every iota of our being reels against the cruelty of our environmental influences, and wills to push itself out against these bulwarks and buttresses of an Interior Castle that does indeed know of Thy prudent judgments, when all outside of this crystalline palace reviles and resists this compunction and compassion of Thy Holy Spirit.
For in this world of sin, and the unapologetically executed immorality of its carnal inhabitants; in too this passion of man, this moat of my own earthly, human emotions surrounding that inner fortress of faith, hope, and divine charity; is to be found and floated above, as like a levitation over Leviathan, and landed upon, as like a divine augur of angelic impetus, figured upon with the furtive flit of otherworldly feathers and nested in like a white dove within the ark of its refuge; its covenant, and its heavenly Maker.
Please my Lords, as we find our center with that inward glance and glassy-eyed, glossed-over gaze, let us to land upon it with all the ferocity of Spirit, fluidity of ease, and felicity of heart, in good will towards our neighbors (not deigning that any should perish in Your inferno of infinity if it could be helped), and in fecundity of good soil in a good soul.
Let us land upon it not from our own earthly axis, nor from our lowly mortal state of mankind, nor from below, so much as we are to You as are these lands of Earth to Your realm in the High Heavens; but from above—that is, from Your arms outstretched in the perfect faith of a perfect freedom, carrying us in Your talons as like a mother eagle bearing her eaglets, lifting high above in that Spirit of rebirth to be spirited away into You, beholding as we do, all that can be seen within Your perfect and telescopic, pristine bird’s-eye view.
Let us land in this perfect center, like a cat of Your creation, always upon our feet, and always, as according to Your own divine will and divine providence, not from our own doing or vantage point, but from You. For that is the point, is it not? Not to achieve this perfect center by our own human means, but in cooperation with Your Spirit and in the mutual trust born of a truly reciprocal loving relationship, as achieved by the superhuman means that are of You, my God.
As we gravitate within this tempest, this quicksand that is the quickening storm of Your One Holy and quickening Spirit, let us use this burning, fuel-driven means of grace to set up our borders, lay down our barriers, and fortify our souls against all outside intrusion and sins of collusion, and make our territory in the patience of boundless peace, as containing the ultimate essence of purest love, the Divine Heart, the true charity. Let us use this tempest to discern the eye that is center, as in the storms of this world and the passions of man, only then is “the eye of the storm” made evident, and Thy perfect center then is found.
Title: “At Your Feet and at Your Service: In Spirit and in Truth”
(With a Word to Follow)
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this wonderful new day and for all the grace and wonder that is the great marvel and mystery of Thy presence; here now as always, come what may. Please, my Lords, in this great mystery of Thine ever-unraveling and ever-hidden mystery, leaving always more to be known and more to be revealed, grant that our sense of awe, and of magic and mastery combined in a uniquely faith-bound experience of this world and this life, may never be exhausted and like Your love, may never be quenched, no matter what travails trouble the body, or what ailments afflict the spirit; for in this life, what are we if we have not our faith, and our sense of wonder and speechlessness before You, as our tongues are held still and frozen in faithful reverence of Your incredible and infinite, most immaculate and Holy Spirit, O Father, in Spirit and in truth, one God in three Persons, and “the Mystery of the Holy Trinity” pondered within, forever and ever.
Please my Lords, in this new day that is yet another facet of this living stone of Thy temple and diamond of the soul, let us to continue on in thankful perseverance and joyful effort this work that is our daily privilege and our daily bread, and to continue to remain in Thee, most ever thankful for this finely-tuned point of the scribe’s plume, and tip of Thy Word’s unsheathed blade, that ever allows us to discern between soul and Spirit, between flesh and soul; between that which is without and that which is within, and that which is of me and that which is of You. For in this great sword of Thy Spirit, that is the Word of God forged in the fire of Thy reckoning and the wrath of Thy fury—that tempest of fiery agony that reveals to us the extent of our sins and the experience of human misery if we were to truly live and die apart from You our God (to Whom be thanks and praises forever and ever); in this great gift of Thy Word, we are able to know what life apart from Thee would be like, and we are able to tell the difference between what is You and what is me, between what is human and what is divine, and what is Heaven and what is Hell.
And it is in this gift, this sacred tool forged in the fires of wrath and divine energy for knowing Thee; knowing Thee truly through knowing the difference between You and me, and knowing how wretched were the world to be if Thine inseparable presence were severed from it, in oh, this darkest Dark Night; that one does truly come to know and discern Thee. And it is in knowing human misery, that one may then truly know divine joy, for only in knowledge of self—in the extent of mankind’s wretchedness as You pull back Your gift of grace from his soul in this test and trial of Your own will and Your own design, that we may then have truth and clarity and perfect wisdom in knowledge of God—for in this second dark night of the spiritual awakening, we see what creation is apart from the Creator, and we behold the creature apart from his birthright that is the grace and divine inheritance of a baptismal rebirth in Thy divine Son—and in this desolation and this darkness, this trial and testing ground of the soul—and only in this dark night, do we know truly and precisely just what and Who You are, and all that You mean and give to us in this world and this life—for You are not there.
So when You do reinstate Your withdrawn grace to within our now enlightened and matured and watchful souls, brought to our completion in this life through unity with You, we know You truly as You are, in Spirit and in truth, and we are ever thankful beyond words for Your grace and presence restored within us, so much so, that we repeat without a sound in the words spoken under our breath, my God my God, all that I wish for in this life and this soul is for Thy presence, and in truth and in Spirit, for You to be with me, here now, forever more. And these are the soul’s most truthful and honest sentiments of gratitude and praise, born in knowing You in the fullness of Your grace and glory, and in the darkest night at the darkest hour; reduced to the withering rushes of these silenced footsteps, and weeping streams of willowy tears, forever bending in prayerful silence, crying for You at Your feet. And so we pray, in Spirit and in truth, for You and for You only, as the one true desire of the one true soul. May Your presence come quickly, never to depart.
Just a Word to the wise:
For all who do not know, “the Antichrist” is a religious figure prophesied by Jesus and spoken of by the Church Fathers, who is to be expected as the false prophet and fake messiah, who shall succeed in deceiving the world directly before the Second Coming of Christ. If this word has been used incorrectly to describe any other such person who does not meet this description, of a non-Christian liar and fake, then the prophecy has come true, and the real Antichrist has in fact succeeded in deceiving the world, and leading all of Christ’s followers astray, in teaching them to use this name to describe someone else.
If this word, this name, “Antichrist,” has been used to describe a person who was not in fact the Antichrist, and you fall among the numbers of people who have committed this error, then the time may have come for you to “repent,” and “change your mind”; and to call it what it is, and also to know the true Antichrist for who he is. It is in fact potentially an act of apostasy or even of heresy to misapply this term in describing an actual Christian and follower of Jesus, and so if this word has been used to describe one of God’s faithful, may it be known that this is a sin and what is the penalty for a sin of this nature, if it remains unrepented of after knowledge of this fact.
Grace to you, who truly know not what you do, and Hell to those of you who do.
Title: “Outer Darkness and the Cloud of Dark Light”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this beatific new day of fresh new hope, grown in love of You, nourished by the light of Your truth, and bearing the good fruit of Your Word, in word and action, and in deed and truth.
Please, my Lords, in this fresh new dawning of a new day of new life, let us succeed in the grace that is Your storm cloud of lightning, and pillar of dark light; for in this column of smoke with the supernatural light of Your flame, there You are! And in these trenches of the heart dug in the battlefield of a warring soul, bound to fight the good fight in Spirit, Spirit against spirit, for Your good name and good honor, there You are! And in these troubles of life, borne out gracefully and with composure by the thought of You, there You are—most directly indeed, by that very thought of You!
For when all life’s paths go astray, and there be none to follow along the way of the upright that is pleasing to You, Your Word is yet there, in Scripture and verse and in mind and in heart; and as we refuse to forfeit the mind’s acreage in this bounty of Your vessel, we do succeed in finding this path set by You, stone by stone, as we clear away the underbrush and overgrown thistle and weeds, tares and temporal trash, that have grown over a road unused and have hidden what once was a clearing in Your wake.
As we waken to the light of Your shelter, this habitat of habit and abode of a body, borne rightly by the Spirit for its purposes and good pleasure and not manned by the body’s own impassioned designs—in this dwelling of grace that is the body as a temple, of God and in Spirit and in truth like indoors, we shall not be cast into the outer darkness that surrounds us. For faith such as this, faith so great that Your power is here, and that, “I am not worthy that You should come under my roof, but only say the word…”; with faith such as this, as has not been found in all of Israel, but in Spirit and in truth has been claimed for the abiding soul, Your grace shall already be here, for the Lord cometh quickly to a quickening Spirit (that is the Spirit of the LORD) indeed.
In this faith and under this roof that is the will of God bursting forth with rod and rainbow, with ark and Ark, with terror and trenches, we shall not be those who shall come to the final hour only to be cast out, with wailing and gnashing of teeth, for not bearing that light within ourselves that is our entry pass to the table of the marriage supper of the Lamb. For without that light of faith born within the soul, there shall be no root within ourselves by which we shall be replanted in safe security in Heaven, and there shall be no way for us to stand in His presence when we are borne to our feet by none of His own—none of His own powers of faith or of virtue, or of grace or of hope.
When we bear not that light of life and of love that is God within the soul—when we carry it not within us and in faith, then we shall be cast out into outer darkness for not being able to take the steps of faith, the leap of faith, the stance of faith, or the supper of faith—and as in Heaven our flesh reborn in temples of the Lord shall stand in faith and by grace, then in that day of the coming of the Lord, we shall know His glory, for we shall not have it.
And we shall bewail His absence in the outer darkness of the mind’s reaches that has wandered far from Him in thought and in deed; and in not bearing this deed to our own souls and in not founding these living stones and living structures upon Him, He shall not stand for us, and we in turn—shall not stand.
For only in Christ shall any come to know the Father, and only by the will of the Father shall any be brought to Christ. And in like manner, only in Christ shall any stand before the Father, and only by faith, by seeing beyond the sight of the eyes that can be deceiving, can the Father be known.
Title: “Against the Grain, and My-Grain”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this lovely new day of Thy grace and truth, manifested so remarkably in Thy most magnificently manifold endeavors of peace, perpetuated in this life, and in this soul, to be fortified as eternal in the life to come.
Please my Lords, if it be Thy will that in this redoubtable peace we shall suffer the persecution that is the slander and naysaying and gossip and backbiting of our fellows, so be it. And if it be Thy will that in these endeavors towards peace—peace with You and Your will as is the goal of the true peacemakers spoken of in the Beatitudes, while we suffer contention and strife, and dissention and division in this world—if it be Thy will that we suffer failure in the world’s eyes to forbear in virtue and attain success in Yours, in proving ourselves true in faith and fortitude and fidelity to You—then so be it. And if it should so please the LORD, if in these endeavors to serve Your will, come what may, it be Thy will that we should suffer some setback of great import to us, but necessary to You, so as to sever our inordinate or “unpleasing in Your eyes” attachment to some earthly thing or human connection—though it may break our hearts, if it shall reshape them as closer to Yours and more pleasing to You, then so be it.
And if, my Lords, I may say so, if it be pleasing to You that in so endeavoring to serve Your will, we should suffer, we should know pain, we should endure hardship past the point of earthly patience or the threshold of human tolerance, so be it. For it is in being tried beyond measure, beyond the breaking point and the tipping point, that we may surpass our natural limits and therefore transcend our own selves and capabilities in persevering in Spirit and in truth, in the supernatural endurance and tolerance, and divine patience and persistence, that are the fruits of our labors manifested in You—for truly, these fruits are Yours and nor of our own at all.
And it is in this, being tried beyond our limits that Yours are known, Your own divine and immortal limitless potential, as You in Your Spirit shine forth from within us to accomplish by Your own divine hand these endeavors that are so truly one and the same in this heart with Thy will. For in this stipulation, if it be Thy will; and in this condition, come what may; even despite persecutions and hardship and scorn and suffering—with these two aspects of our undertaking in place within our hearts—both to do Your will and to suffer whatever pain may be entailed to perform it to Your satisfaction—then there is nothing that can stop us as we so persevere in our soul and regard our efforts only in Your eyes.
For we know, that when the pain and suffering, and persecution and strain, break us down and break us apart little by little, the part that remains within us, the divine light of the LORD Who is true, shall succeed in Your will as it is Your will that we are so striving to accomplish; and in this, Your will, we are predestined to exclaim, “My God, it is for You that we are succeeding, and it is by You that we shall succeed; for it is You Who have succeeded us as our own human limits have been swallowed up and surpassed.”
For this fruit we bear is of and by and for the will of You, and in this splitting headache that is, so to speak, the sign of the times of “the LORD’s coming,” the good grain we produce and shuttle off into the storehouses of the soul in Spirit and in truth; this good grain is “My Grain,” You acclaim, as You claim it to Yourself. And this “good Grain” is attained in going against the grain of temporal comforts and faithless, tempestuous human nature, to go with the grain of Your own conversely-oriented divine nature, and true blessedness achieved contrarywise to the instincts of the mortality in mortal man, that are inverse to the route by which the immortality of the immortal God is manifested and made known through us and within us. As it is “against my grain” in this splitting headache of broken Bread that is a veritable migraine, it is yet with the grain of the divine good will of God; and in the words of the LORD, thus and thus, as it is in My will and attained in suffering and persecutions, it is, “My-Grain.”
Title: “Man Up or Man Down, Sink or Swim”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this lovely new day of Thy divine grace and peace, and for a fresh new inhale of earthly life to within these nostrils of man, through first the heavenly life of Your Spirit, breathing softly within us.
Please my Lords, in this holdout of hope that is the refuge of faith and the Rock of Your bounty, let us remain steadfast in Thee as we are stouthearted in hope, and cling gratefully to that Rock upon which we shall be stayed in peace, as we steady our minds upon Thee and You grace us still as the rest of our hearts—staid and stayed upon Thee.
Please my Lords, in this longest and darkest journey to Thy lodestar within, let us to find our peace in the action of the soul as our truest home in the nature of our being; and let us find our deepest peace in these deepest waters of Your abyss, as like the trance and dreaming and sleep of contemplation in faith—for this abyss is as deep as Your soul and as endless as Your life—and as grace-filled and full of marvel as our very own hearts, as we are so indeed free from all fear and terror, and doubt and dread, in pondering You.
For whatever we shall bring to this voyage in the soul; as like looking into a mirror, where we are coming from in heart is what we shall find—just exactly what we shall carry with us in our hearts is what shall be revealed to us in kind, in You.
For on this journey of soul in Spirit and in faith, the doubt we bring we shall see and receive, and the faith of our foundation shall stand strong as the hull of a great ship, sealed and seabearing in Your Spirit, as yet we are tossed in the waves of man in this wayfaring waterway that is the life of a heavenly Body, an undulation of supreme life, and an image of the divine as we provide its likeness in the faith of our hearts and the firmament of freedom upon which it rests.
As we make our way in this delving into the deep, into the abyss that is our depth of heart, let us clear the contents of uncertainty out from within as like the ton of leakage from a ship that has taken on water, and let us understand that this doubt that we bring with us in the uncertainty of an untested heart, is that loosening of a grip upon the steering wheel, and the loosening of control upon the manning of a ship, that shall make the very difference after death between “sink or swim,” and “man up, or man down.”
For just as Peter reaching out to the Lord Whom he saw walking upon the sea faltered in faith when the wind suddenly grew strong, and began to sink into the sea, so too shall we call unto the Lord from our souls, “Save me my God,” when we are found to be lacking. For it is by faith that we shall be saved, and for those of us who have not been tested to be tried and true and steadfast and seaworthy on our own maiden voyage to the Homeland of the soul, we shall indeed call out to the Lord, in Whom alone we may trust.
And in calling out to the Lord from our lack of faith, faltering in footsteps as we are in our stance upon grace, shall He reach out to us in kind as we reach out to Him—as He replies to us, “My child, wherefore didst thou doubt?” Or shall He retort from the depths of our own hearts and in the mirror of our own souls, “Be there for me as I was there for you. Man up or man down, sink or swim.”
“…For what you have done for the least of these, you have done to me. And what you have failed to do for the least of these, you have failed to do for me.”
“…I will be there for you, just as you were there for me. And I hope, for your sakes, that it will not be just to stand over you, just to watch you burn.”
And this message is specially-intended for those of you to whom this scenario applies (who were at Ursinus College in 2009): you can either admit what you’ve done and accept the consequences from men, or you can go to your graves and accept this justice, and these consequences, from Me—to burn.
Title: “The Patient Importunate Widow, and the Strength Training of Wait-Resistance”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this beautiful new day of Your calm and loving tender mercies and infinite beatitude, for were it not for Your gently guiding influences here with me now, however subtle or severe, the path to gratitude and salvation would not appear in all its wonder and majesty upon the horizon. Let our flesh too, rest in hope, as we await with all patience and lightly-restrained overeagerness the most blessed day of Your coming, as our spirits do already find their rest and their home properly in the hope of You.
In too, these theological virtues of faith and charity alongside our hope, let us find our stride and let the second wind that is the life of You carry us out over our first few steps, and let us take it in stride as we set our vigilant hearts like synchronized watches upon You, that no great prize was ever attained easily, and that no great desire could be sustained without great effort put in place to stir it into love and gently-enkindled tenderness, these gifts of Your Spirit that we fan into flame.
Please my Lords, as like the “weight resistance training” that we struggle through to build strength and grow highly-developed muscles, let too this “wait resistance” that is Your pious reluctance to heed the prayers of this “importunate widow and importunate neighbor,” build us up in strength of Spirit and patience of soul, so that in devout perseverance and holy importunity we too may learn Your ways in this steadily-building desire and anticipation for You, in all Your wisdom and array of heavenly host; and so we too may grow to emulate You, in not so much striving to attain our desires, but striving to enlargen our hearts and our capacity to dream for You, thereby fine-tuning and refining our desires, and winnowing away as like with a threshing fan those unfit for the earnest apprehension of You.
Please my Lords, in this struggle against sin, against imperfection, and against the love of the world and the love of self, that is known as “the lust of the eyes, the lust of the flesh, and the pride of life,” let us seek as one with You the desires that Your own heart would graft onto us, and not those that our own lowly human instincts would succumb to in the stead of heavenly and spiritual blessings, were it not for Your leading and our heeding, in these footsteps and desires within the heart.
Let us ever so gracefully hold our tongues, and more so, meditatively, our thoughts in check, and so entertain and in effect ordain with our corresponding action to obtain these desires of the heart—let us entertain only those wishes which we fancy would be pleasing to You, as inspired by Your own instigation; and let us quell the tide that rises within us by resisting, calming, and assuaging any inspiration, dream, or desire, that originates in our own base and lowly human levels of inspiration, as for earthly things and sensual delights over spiritual austerity and the blessedness of doing Your will sans any pleasure, spiritual or otherwise, that is this asceticism, this “kenosis” of heart-cleansing and self-emptying to enliven and vitalize the soul and Spirit within, and this Path of the Cross that is the renunciation, and death or crucifixion of self, in order to rejoice in the true glory and greatness that is the corresponding and “dialectically held” life and Resurrection of You simultaneously within our soul. For wheresoever there is an “empty” and willing vessel, ready to bear You within and to do Your will, both “within and without,” there You are, Christ Jesus Emmanuel, with the servant who provides true service.