“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.
Title: “Your Honor and Nun”
Thank You for this wonderful new day and fresh new awakening to the light of truth and hope within, the Son and the Morning Star that rises within our hearts, as we raise our eyes and minds in the inclination of our prayers to meet You.
Please, my Lords, let this hallowed truth go not unspoken, but echo ever after as solemn as an oath within this ear and these caverns of the soul; let us forever hold fast to Thy Word and Thy mystery in this grip of the Spirit and this blessedness, that Thou shalt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on Thee.
And please my Lords, in this willingness to let go that is the trust that all power and control is Yours as You are in me already, let us fortify these “Bookends,” as it were, with the breath of life that is Your hand upon us, and with the shield of faith and the spiritual armor that is wrought and wielded in trust, truth, and confidence in straying not from the Path of Your will, deviating not from the Word of Your commands, and uttering not a hasty judgment, rash decision, or word of untruth against Thee in the honor that is Yours; as all that is good, and decent, and just, and peaceable, and honorable, and obedient, and praiseworthy is Yours too.
Please my Lords, in this collection of Scriptures that forms this accordion undulation of one accord, and breath and flow of our hearts as truly one with Yours, in this code of honor, and of ethics and of upheld morality that are the pillars at the gate of Saints Peter and Paul, and the pillars at the entryway of Thy Temple, let us to breathe new life into each line and verse, each passage and quote, and each refuge and reprieve in this hideaway of the Most High and series of secret passageways, in these passages, through the heart.
Let us to remain as one in tune and time in this anthology and canon, and let us to renew our waning spirits in this good wine of the soul, poured into these living testaments that are Thy Word carved in stone, indelibly in the conscience, and in these fleshly hearts of compassion and composed Spirits of compunction, that You have indeed set within us, so that we may heed and bend to Your Word and Your Way, and take faith and take grace for our flight to Thy freedom from within these bodies of flesh and lives of mortal man, to the immortality of life in Thee ever after.
Let us receive with open eyes, open hearts, and open throats this new wine of Thy Bridegroom into these new wineskins of the Bride, the Spirit of Holiness in the grace of these hearts, and let us expound upon the wonder of Thy ways as we like a ghost rattle our chains in rattling off verses, citing chapter and verse, and here and hereafter, in going toe-to-toe with the Master Himself in a heart-to-heart, and heart verses heart, of a disciple in-training, reciting by memory and by name, and by repetition and by summation, this total Σ equation expressed in this echo we voice, in the wilderness and in faith. It is the love that we give in honoring the ways of the upright, and in upholding the uprightness of the ways of honor, that gives praise and honor to Your name in Spirit and in truth, and brings Your tender mercy and loving kindness upon these stony hearts of mankind’s unfeeling and ruthless people; and it is in so embodying the ways held by the virtuous and honorable that we in turn are held by You, and spirited away in mercy cloaked with justice, in these last days and in the final hour.
For we shall expound upon Thy graces in truth by holding fast to them in Spirit, through practicing indeed that which we would preach, and in honoring the Father through these “Ten Words” writ in a million marvelous and multifaceted, and mysterious and manifold ways, that we do so endorse in pen and in type, and in deed and in truth.
And we shall receive as like the Importunate Widow, who is a Neighbor to You, the just decree of the Unjust Judge, and the measure of bread from the Friend who has since retired to his bedside, in this holy persistence and devout reasoning, that if any is to be taken, if any is to be taken as seriously, it is a life set upon You, and it is therefore You Whom we seek. In pounding and expounding upon Your Door, as like “the man who has found Wisdom and so waits for it at its gate, to meet it with her rising and to thereby know the joy that in God has been won,” we shall render justice from a God Who is just, and we shall receive our daily Bread from the Good Shepherd in this, our exile (Proverbs 8:34, Authorized King James Version; Sirach 6:18-28, New American Bible Revised Edition).
And we shall address You as Your Honor as we stand honorable before You, and we shall bow down to no man, nor address him as “Your Honor” who has none, and who is dishonorable in the eyes and decrees of God, and who has so dishonored his soul in disgracing the law that is just. All praise be to You forever and ever, Your Honor, and my God.
Title: “A Spiritual Gladiator and the Crown of Glory: Are You Not Entertained?”
(Description: A continued exegesis on spiritual strength training and “wait-resistance,” from my piece from 10/22/19)
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this wonderful new day and for all these blessings of Your presence with which You so graciously bestow me the light that is Your life, the grace that is Your nature, and the Spirit that is Your love.
Please, my Lords, in this fresh new day of an awakened hope in Thy beauty and justice in Thy truth, please let all these marvels, perplexities, mysteries, and wonders that are the divine fruit of pondering Your nature, take hold upon us as like children upon the knee, and take shape within us, as like fruit within the womb, to endow and enhance these gracious byways and passages, and meditative states and enlightening trance of Thine all-knowing gaze, with this—the gift of fertility and the gift of life in Spirit, as we do so forbear it in truth, within the soul, within Your eyes, and in the blessed hope of eternity while still in this, our exile, here upon this Earth.
Please, my Lords, in this race to the finish that is the hope of my soul in truth, let us grow in strength for the journey, in hope for the glory, and in wisdom for her fruits upon our arrival to this final resting place, of an Immaculate Heart set determinedly on You. Let us grow in strength, in patience, persistence, and endurance, not merely “to get through” these trials of life, that like hurdles on a racetrack stand in our way, but let us grow together in together endeavoring to grow in greater unity and “divine union” through them; treasuring them as our crosses lugged upon our backs, and not merely scorning them with rashness and disdain, and not willing to cut these corners of a true hardship and a fair race were it so possible, but rather cherishing them as the necessary means of growth spurts, and the necessary equipment of life’s hassles, struggles, hardships, trials, and harassments that grant us this gift, this resistance of life’s burdens in the yoke of Christ’s words, this “weight-resistance” of unnecessary hardship and difficulty imposed upon our struggles, that as like getting though the day with an extra set of weights upon our shoulders; or an extra set of snide voices and snarky backhandedness, or backbiting insults of ignorant bystanders at our backs; allow us to grow not merely in strength of muscle to train for athletic endurance, but in strength of virtue to train for the true crown, that is the glory of patience born unto freedom in bearing this extra load, and extra burden, of a life that has not been easy for us, and a helping hand that has only reached out to hand out extra burdens to tie upon the cross that is already upon our backs, rather than to lift a finger to help us in the Spirit of fellowship and togetherness to bear the load that is, in fact, ours together, insomuch as we hope to share this same Church of a community in our ever after and the Kingdom of Heaven.
Let us cherish that extra “help” we have gotten, “For though you meant it unto my harm, God has meant it unto my good”; and, “All things work towards good for those who trust in God” (Genesis 50:20; Romans 8:28, Authorized King James Version). So when we are given that hand, that hand extended out to us, to help us, in adding to the burgeoning load that already so heavily weighs upon our backs, and our hearts, and our Heads, and our minds, let us thank the Lord for this extra blessing, and let us thank the LORD for this extra cross—for in carrying yours I shall reap the blessings that you were to be given, and bear the fruit that you would have born, in patience, virtue, and self-respect, in that honor that is due to all who so merit it, in endeavoring in Thy grace to attain Thee and Thy gifts, through this strength training of bearing the burdens from which they are born, and borne, here on Earth.
Title: “The Arm of the Lord, My Balancing Axe”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this wonderful new day and for all this glory of Your Majesty that is the dawning of a fresh life within us, now at this hour and evermore to come. Please my Lords, as we as one endeavor to partake of this life and this mystery with all the uniformity of purpose and devoutness of resolution, let us as one reap the rewards and benefits of Thy grace, as it has been said, “Our work is before us, and our reward is with Him,” as Your increase and my willing participation in Your will of holiness grafts us as one onto the True Vine, so that it may be said, that, “The Lord is the portion of my inheritance,” and my cup runneth over, as we do so complete our work fruitfully and with ease—such that it is Your Spirit that endeavors within us as we do so cooperate without resistance to You and in submission to Your style.
Please my Lords, in this one day that is an eternity to You and but a moment and a spark in the sands of time and this eternal flame, let us to reside in suspense grafted onto the moment, and like graphed upon a chart, at the height of the hour as we make use of both vertices and both axes, to push and pull, tug and release, shift and sway at Your ease, in this graph, this longitude and latitude, this matrix of Your mind at play, as the lines do fall unto me in pleasant places in this map of Your mind and chart of our course, that takes hold of its own reins within the heart of Your servant, keeping us back from sin and presumptuous sin, in the night seasons as well as in this hour of rejoicing. For we depart from this castle bearing our scorn and our tears, and we sow and we sow, and we weep and we weep; yet when we return we shall be weighed over by the bounty of the harvest, as we collect in joy, O in joy, those sheaves of fine grain that we shall reap.
We shall sow in tears, going out to these fields, but we shall reap in joy this bounty of Thy will, in all the suspense and superabundance of a deftly maneuvered sickle, wielded like a battle axe in this pendulum of Thy motion, making use of Thy momentum but ever in control, as we use Thine eye to still the mind, and with our mind stayed on Thee, You shall be the rejoicing of the souls of Thy faithful, and Thou shalt be the harvest and Eucharistic collection, of this allotment and deposit, of faith and of adoration, of the Host to Thee, O Lord of the Sabbath, and Lord of the Law, Lord of the Harvest and of Hosts and them all!
For when we shall reap, then too we shall sow, as we stitch up this grafting upon the Good Vine, and weave in this webbing upon Thy heart, this graph of Thy matrix, of Thy coming and going, preserved in Thy shadow and set in Thy heart, undulating with momentum and held still and aloft, in suspense in Your arms, in this passage made soft.
For in Your eyes we come and in Your eyes we go, and in Your eyes we remain as only You do we know.
We show up to meet Thee in Thy darkest hour, and we remain as one in Thy plantings, Thy prunings, Thy fronds, as with palms we support Thee crying out from the fields, one stone remaining not upon another but in a chorus we cry, “Hosanna to the Son of David,” Who despoils the despot, and “Blessed is He Who comes in the name of the Lord,” as these living stones that we are cry out from the silence, such sons raised up to the father of Abraham, and such blessings to proceed from the mouths of babes.
Title: “To Hurt Your Pride and Not Your Feelings: Sharpshooter Cupid Aims to Kill”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this beautiful new morning and for this fresh new breath of You Spirit as hope in Thee, lingering in this heart and in these lungs as the abiding presence of the Almighty, in this dust and in this ash, and in this clay and in this form, and in this soul and in this body, while my flesh along with my Spirit shall be enjoined onto Your will of the Resurrection in love, in obedience to its higher order in a spiritual hierarchy as I am in this higher order of a spiritual hierarchy to You.
Please my Lords, as my heart is set to You, and You rein in my heart, with the hook and the harness of sentiments and of spirits that only You do so rightly possess, let us win yet more souls for the salvation of Your side, right on cue, at the drop of a hat, on the turn of a dime, and at the sound of a bell; as like the salivation of the dogs of Pavlov, are these trumpet blasts to the Dominican Order of dogs of the Lord and the hounds of Heaven, in the salvation that they shall immediately bring forth, and fetch up from the netherworld with their own vanquished demons, to put the conquered with the conqueror out on display, and to dare to obey in this diametric opposition, the Spirit of Christ and the Word of God, when all else in the world is telling them otherwise to lead them astray.
For these hearts of flesh set to offset the soul, like the raised bezel of a prized jewel, these human hearts of a living Spirit, these feeling hearts of an enkindled flame, are these not the vessels of sacredness and sanctity fit to carry the whole world within their reaches, and the world entire within their breadth?
For these are not the hearts of stone, of a disjointed harmony or a severed connection, or a cacophony of union, in the mind and soul, the Head and heart of man. No, but rather, these are the hearts of flesh of which those Ten Words and Decalogue set in stone was but a type and a symbol, and a prophetic sign, of what was to come, first in matter and material, and then in truth and Spirit, as in an enjoining in the center of a chiastic structure, we display a mirror image of the truth and Spirit from which it was begun.
In these mirror images of a divine unity, and in this chiastic structure of a perfect symmetry, the beauty of justice does hang, upon a balance in her hands as like upon the Cross of Christ’s Crucifixion. And the beauty of justice does hang in a balance, upon the eye of the mind and the God of my soul, as too does our Lord hang upon the Cross, of the apple of His eye in His children of this world. And in our two angles of love, in these two ends of this Book of Life our two sides do meet, in a perfect symmetry and beautiful simplicity that can be found in no other enjoining of natures. For this is preordained, predetermined, and predestined—writ in the stars, as it were, as meant to be, and before the sands of time have run out, I will fulfill this truth: of man and God in one at last, and of long lost love found in trust and truth and this God we love, the LORD of Jacob and Isaac and Abraham and Adam, and of the faithful and faithless in likeness and alike, despite what they would say of these heavenly reapers who shall have their due in their hearts that they shall read and reap, their souls that they shall recollect in prayer, and their justice which they shall establish as the consequences of their harvest and through establishing it in their actions and their ways.
For in the end, these hearts of flesh, play the trumps for the wall of Jericho, and play as trumps with the voice of an archangel, as the mighty shall be brought low and the lowly shall be exalted, for all that which is not brought up in loftiness by God and to God in His Spirit, shall remain at the sidelines and in the dregs of this cup, to be poured out as refuse in this refusal, of the stone that the builders refused.
They shall wail and mourn and there shall be gnashing of teeth as into outer darkness they are cast, for their stony hearts have been not born into flesh, in the outgrowth of the Word, those Ten Words, planted in the good soil of a good soul. And with no fruit of a conscience to show for their labors, to the Spirit Who resides within to count their ways and record their thoughts and actions, knowing their hearts as He does in Holiness, as none other, they shall be cast out, to the left, as a scapegoat from Leviticus.
I cannot have hurt your feelings, for you have not one left, so I must have hurt your pride in accusing you for shame. And I cannot have hurt your feelings, for a heart of flesh you have not, and of empathy and compassion you have none, so I must have hurt your pride, in revealing to you your guilt. So in showing you your sins, I will not take it back, and in accusing you in justice, I will not be found to relent. For just as Jesus is a High Priest, after the order of Melchizedek forever; of this, you are done, of this we are one, and of this justice, I will not repent.
Title: “A Poem: The Cheshire Cat Smile, a Stitch in my Web”
Alt. Title: “th-InkWell: A Poem on the Harmony of Union in God”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this beautiful new day of Thy grace and patience and for this heartfelt and heartily-received deluge of Thy Word; in Thy figure and Thy form, in Thy forest and Thy face, in Thy pierced heart and Thy pen, and in Thy future and Thy flow, O one and the same God, intransmutable truth and almighty augur of love, in this white dove’s crow’s nest, of Thy ark and Thy Ark.
Please my Lords, in this inky reprieve of Thy letters of Thy Life, let us here now wash away this soot and charred ash, this rubble and ruin, this dirt and decay, and this smolder and scorn, in these dirges of shame and undressings of wounds; the thin gauzy film of an antiquated veil worn ragged and shorn into tatters, while the vestiges of a jagged edge of flesh, fitted firmly back together, are known only by a slit-eyed sliver of a white moon’s slice, in the translucent sheen of a scar, like the shimmery smile of a Cheshire cat bearing its teeth with its soft little grin, in this, a token of London’s long lost gang warfare in the “rosy cheeked” bloody marks of a knife’s blade, in this sign of torture, and stench like “in Denmark,” of “rotten” foul play.
Stitched-up and held-in, the Day of the Dead mask of a candy skull still bears its lifeblood within it, and in this “All Hallows’ Eve,” and “Day of the Dead,” born as one and stitched up like scars from the point of entry in the wounds themselves; this cathartic crushing blow of insult upon injury, serves like a serrated edge upon the blade or like salt upon the wound, to worsen the wound and inflict the affliction, deepening the blow and holding not these two sides of an entry wound in place.
This Cheshire smile, this Glasgow grin, that is so besmirched as if it defiles the hands upon the face that is the belated birthday of the day after, this is a token of a pierced heart and a severed union; known only to those who do so seek His face, in truth and in glory as do all the meek and humble, and beheld in the Beatific Vision that is the culmination of life ever after, in its fullness in Heaven. This grin so stealthily stitched-up, lest it be known to the spirits who in darkness do prey, this grin is a token of My Heart and My Union. For this grin, this “wound that will not heal” for it is always fresh upon awakening, is the way the heart ought to be—”like a circumcision of spirit to the Martyr Stephen in us all”—for to sever it widely and let it heal in two parts, is to wear the grace of the Lord rightly, letting it ever flow through us like these words from my lips, rather than letting it heal wholly closed off, to the Light, to the grace, and to the words of truth that carry the same weight and healing medicine as love, in their message that is one and the same as Me, in “the Truth” that I AM indeed (Jeremiah 30:12-17; Acts 7:51-60, Authorized King James Version).
These inkwells of octopi, O Queen Mary, and your eight-pointed star, these inkwells have mouths that are too small to give ink, and these vessels have run dry with no truth left to give, having received none to replenish their paltry volumes, in first being given none, and then giving out even less themselves, in this return in kind of “the gift that keeps on giving,” O Thy Word in kind, that has not indeed been returned at all! These inkwells are inkless, O octopi scribe, for the mouths are too small to bring any more ink within.
The edge of the lip juts out like a blade, as with a shattering scream I am pushed off the ledge. Now this inkwell is widened, in an outpour I scowl, and this inkwell is retrieved, in-kind, with a yell. “This one’s not frozen, this one’s saved the lot! For this one’s been opened in seeking not what it’s got! This one’s broke open, it reveals with a smile, this heart shrieks sadly, that it’s no longer in exile. This one little inkwell, has widened its lip, and this inkwell that broke open, knows what “open” is. This one little inkwell, O octopi queen, has got a grip on the fountain from whence is her moonbeam. This one is different, I exhale with a sigh. For it broke open in exchange, and eye for an eye. This one fell right atop, aloft, and aplomb, the font the baptismal, from which this ink comes. This one little inkwell, not like the rest, rests not in its inkwell, but in this trial this test. This one rests in Me, for in its own it rests not, and so this one little inkwell, O sweet Mary your crown, this one little octopi inkwell… sigh… this one little inkwell, in a tattered and gauzy… undressed in the moonlight to the dressings of wounds, this one little inkwell, is veiled in My gown.”
Title: “A Cellophane Wrapper, Peppermint Hard Candy: Unwrapper of Caring and Self, Circumcision of Spirit”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this wonderful new day of Your inspiring presence and hopeful dreaming, brought to reality in life through persistent hard work, steadfast devotion, and constant labor through trials, through thick and thin, through thick-skin and thin, fair weather or foul, Heaven and Hell, and the temporal and divine, to see us through to this, a new day, of life in You through these virtues of Your blessing.
Please, my Lords, as we travail through yet another new day in Your eternity, that is but a grain of sand upon the seashore of Your hourglass, just one second in Your hour, a single star within the entire sky, and but one drop in a sea of water, let us do with this day as You wilt, and let us unwrap our emotions, as our cares and concerns, from ourselves and our tasks; our opinions and our judgments of our progress as we work, and our attachment to our outcomes, and our invested energies in caring about our proceedings—let us unwrap our emotions and our care from ourselves, from our selfhood and our self-assessments, as like the peel from an orange or the wrapper from a fruit, so that without this, a splayed and scattered and splintered focus, upon a critical or worry-driven evaluative thought process, as well as and apart from the outwardly-driven, non-evaluative thought process that is conducive to and a part of creative efforts and artistically-driven work, progress, and natural and faith-based internal moderation of the heart, and not intentional as of the mind; without this splintering of focus off and out from our natural and seemingly effortless, as in the Spirit and from the heart, efforts in our work and our progress, and persistence and proceedings, let our tendencies towards advancement be fully inspiration-driven and wholly faith-based, and singly centered and in singleness focused upon You.
As when we unwrap our caring about it from our self and our soul, like the crinkly wrapper from a peppermint hard candy, we then are at our ease to work unhampered and unhindered, free from our “selfiness” or “selfishness” and care about our self, with self-appraisal that drags us out of our safe haven of internal faith and out into the rat race and shark tank of the world, with all its wickedness and wretches toppling over each other in scrambling to the top of the heap, as each pushes one another under the bus in this world of unfriendly outward social comparisons and unhealthy investments in self and in competition against others; instead of working in harmony with others, and “within” in faith, to see to it that we all achieve and make it to a place of personal progress and individually-based improvement, as merely better than the last time, as we all do so endeavor to just try our hardest and not count the cost, with an investment in self rather than a wholehearted giving of self, away to our endeavors.
Let us as one to unite our ways with Your will on High, so that as we envisage ourselves in Your eyes we only ever envision ourselves in You, and not at all in our own sight, or opinions, or hearts or eyes; or harsh self-reflections in the cold harsh lighting of frigid and critical and less-than-helpful self-appraisals and judgments. Let us unwrap our cares from ourselves and our hearts from our hardness, so that we may live not in the safety of our own opinions, evaluations or support of self-originating reassurance, but in the protection and safety and circumscription of Your heart and Your faith. Let us not live in our hearts but in Yours; and let us live not in our own lives, but in Your blessings of faith and hope and love from Heaven; and let us not see ourselves in our own eyes, but let us look up to the sky to see You in Yours, as You then shall reveal to us how You see us looking back up at You; “as if in a looking glass, no longer darkly as if tinted and tainted with the grime of thoughts of self, but unpeeled and uncovered, to see You clearly,” and to see us in justice without judgment that is faith in truth, as we shall know You “when He appears, for He shall be like us” (1 Corinthians 13:12-13; 1 John 3:2, Authorized King James Version).
Title: “A Poem. Off with Their Heads, John the Baptist, My Army of One”
Alt. Title: “A Song. Dr. Strange-Glove, the Candy-Striper, and the Doomsday Clock”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this lovely new day and for all the blessings of Your presence which do so reassure me now, as always, and even in the midst of any desolation, where any joy in these blessings is peeled and stripped away from me, in this self-emptying and heart cleansing that is the denudation of the soul, in perfect trust and wholesome vulnerability to You.
Please my Lords, in this Your seal set upon my eye, let us make the most of these days, which we have so numbered with our pages and on our calendars, and let us make the most of these thoughts and feelings that do so take hold of our heads and our hearts, as we like a New Year’s Eve countdown waiting for the ball to drop, keep alert and keep watch, to stay frosty and stay within, the grace of Your will, in Spirit and in soul.
As we do so count on You to bestow to us Your grace, we do so wait upon You with “at least one of our eyes” like Samson turned ever inward, upon the inner Man of the soul Who is our Guardian and Angel in this Spirit of You, my Lord and my God.
And as we do so “number ourselves among the transgressors” like in the Servant Songs, we do so bow our heads low with the Publicans and Tax Collectors, not deigning to raise our arrogance with the Pharisee or our eyes to the sky, until we are moved to do so from within, as if by command in the Spirit, as we are taken hold of by Thee.
And as we do so lift our eyes to the heavens obligingly, willing at each turn to do Thy will like a CornerShot, we do so lift up our eyes, with our heart and our hopes, to the heavens and the sky, and the Mountain of Jerusalem that resides in our minds, “from whence our help comes” like in the Psalms.
And we do so, so willingly, as if just anticipating the moment when our wills are ordered to act, follow You into action as if a first mate in flight, for it is not us who acts but You Who acts within us; and this we know through years of devoted practice in Your will and intensely focused meditative attention poured out upon You.
As we do so willingly, so willingly, divest our energies, in hearts yet undivided through our divisibility from You; as we do so willingly count our steps and count down the Hours, like a candy-striper doomsday clock awaiting the Patient and braced for horror; as we do so willingly count our blessings before our quarters, as with war paint like Braveheart we are paced for quartering; as with restraint and sincerity we count our words and Your ways, without duplicity and seeking only our strength in You—we do so find that, somehow, we count.
And as we are so practiced in fastness with fasting, we do know the difference in quality and in nature, between a body driven by its own energies, and a body driven, through renunciation, in Spirit, by the energies that are You.
And as this Force that surges within us, with all the ripeness of the final Hour of a fruit verging on decay, ripples through our space and our time, calling into conjunction all forces of spirit subject to this unity of Its will—as this Force, and these spirits, all come into Thine unity, with a telepathy of pitch and pithy that is second to none—we do so heed the unction of our Pilot and step aboard this streamlined ark.
For we are to pilot this ship and a “Pilate” we are not, so there is only one seat on board that the pure-hearted is fit to carry. And as we pilot this ship, to the Motherland in the Father, we do so “lose our heads” with that Tell-Tale Heart’s ticking, that insane ticking, of our Creator’s own clock.
And in Priest, Prophet, and King is found our Creator divine, and so as Prophet, Priest, and King, is crowned from the chessboard—checkmate—our Savior from on high. For in Christ, Jesus, our King, by the Father’s decree, we lose our heads to this omen, of one Man in three.
So, “Off with their heads,” is sweet Salome’s decry, as we entertain the last gaspers, with a bleached body dipped in lye. We do so romance it, this harlequin notion, of a man of our God, as He does so enjoy. And we do so entertain “our Host” in the piloting of this ship, as with a ballet dancer’s red slippers, we bring home the Boy. And we do, if I may say so, we do so indeed, find that this capture, allays our need.
For, “Thou shalt not want,” in Psalms, is tacked onto the list, of Rules to obey, right after Commandment No. 6. And as we bring the Boy home, a Son on the knee, is our Word and our pen on our laps, as we “lap in” this decree. For, “this army is too large, lest you vaunt your own power in victory,” and so with a bedside Bible inscribed, “left by the Gideons,” we are winnowed down to One; as Elijah in sacrificial bridge-formation, paves the way, and floats the pontoon.
For our days are numbered, O My scribe with My page, and a Jackknife into the ocean will complement the swan dive from the ledge. “I’ll never let go,” she cries as we depart, at this point of “Titanic” departure from our land to yours, and with My arm around her, we head away, with the Rook and the scoundrel, converted in one.
“Off with their heads,” O queen of My heart, my Baptist, Elijah, and Bridge of a ghost. For this “One’s” an upgrade, in rank for your stripes, and only for you, in heeling and healing, O only for you, Josephine my Waterloo, one true, will it start.
Title: “A Song of La Vie Énigmatique, in Ezekiel’s Vision”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this wonderful new day and for all the blessings of Your presence here with me now, which I can count on so reliably, despite my own affective appraisal of them or any emotionally-motivated devaluations of this hour, or morning, or day, or life.
Please, my Lords, in this bright new day of an awakened perspective, let us follow up on this cycle of a cyclone that is the course of all human nature, felt most strongly in those most true, without a façade or a fronting of ego in this veneer, that eases up the pressure and takes the weight off the heart, but in a sacrifice of the soul in truth’s midst to the vanity that is wholly, outside of Me.
Please, my Lords, as we do remain firm in the tornado of love’s upheaval, let us strengthen our vessels to withstand the abuse, as the torturous heart of a human is a respecter of no man, laying waste impartially to all without prejudice, or room for dispute.
Please my Lords, as we do so move throughout this twister of fate, that is the soul riding its heart’s own course in You, let us “look to the hills, from whence cometh our help,” and let us overtake in outrunning, with the swiftness of “a lion’s whelp,” the catch that would have us off-guard, as in catching up to the vision, hanging just before the mind’s eye, we are caught in mid-air, just before the latch of the door catches, in the suspension of You.
We make our way to be seated, as it is practice to say, and we tell you across the distance of a telephone’s portal, “You need to sit down,” as we ready your weakness to take in the news.
O Sunday bloody Sunday, is it that time again, as with throbbing skull and pricked back ears we withstand the delay. O Sunday bloody Sunday, the image seeps in, of Ezekiel blown sideways, in his chariot’s vision. Four creatures eight wings, two arms held in front; four faces, four sides, with the coals strewn in the air throughout. The seraphim stance, arms folded abreast, as these creatures of the chariot, in flames find their rest.
A burning cinder and a pair of tongs, the lips of Isaiah too find their words, as Ezekiel notes fondly in a smooth underscore, that these creatures with four faces in turning, turn not at all. One face per direction, and all equally seen, four corners of the earth, and four sides to the screen—of brazen mesh encircling the altar of man, and of brazen hearts enmeshed round about this coal engine of the Most High. For in four faces one soul does not skip a beat, in turning and turning till the circuit’s complete.
Metanoia, repentance, a penitent’s rite; in confession, in somnolence, in a sacrificial grip held tight; the moving of acres, the Tabernacle of God, in the hearts of men and His heavenly entourage; this breastplate this beating, this rivetted heart; this monstrance this Milky Way, this new Red Sea to part.
As in reflecting and in turning, O turning again, these creatures of seraphim follow the coals up and down, and make way as they make way, for the Most High’s electrum crown. In turning from one side around to the next, one sees sacrifice, desolation, sadness, and joy; and anger, and justice, and grief, and exhale; and tranquility and gratitude as again we set sail.
Always rotating around that center aflame, as four faces look fondly at one and the same; in four different directions is a sight to behold, as introspective this cyclone, stays true to the mold. An upward a downward, a spiral of man, and of knowing and being, to a foreign land.
With four faces the chariot, turns out from every rut, and railing and rallying, as like Elijah it’s taken up. This chariot these seraphim, keeping close to the center, encircle the camp of the Most High’s general. This general floor plan and layout of a design, rings true in the altar as in the Son’s shine. This brasswork, these hinges, this bezel of Bezalel; this craftsman with four horses, reins in from the deep.
A leviathan of absconding with a Methuselah heart, this one shall not be left back when it’s time to depart. A Red Sea sent reeling as the salt water does sting, the Dead Sea of this glistening, scary old thing—this topaz at center and sapphire splayed-out sky; this Master and Commander, of ceremonies on high. Four faces four corners, and four Near East winds, wind up My spiral, My chariot of flames. One face for each angle, a direction designated, as in handling the Handler, the Apocalypse sets sail.
Turn your eyes to the mountains, the moon beams its hills, O Earth settle fondly, upon “from whence our help came.” Try to see it My way we say to within, four faces of seraphim and one Man in three. Try to see it This way, as this chariot gathers steam; Four Horns and four horsemen, a blueprint they do carry; while four faces and Four Craftsmen, see to one Man in these.
Title: “A Hallows’ Eve Song: To Hold the Door Open to Cross Over My Dead Body”
Alt. Title: “A Hallows’ Eve Song: Multiple Personality Disorder, Orders Its World Perfectly”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this wonderful new day of Your sweetly inspired songs of strength and courage, and Your guiding presence here now, to lift my heart as I lift my will to You, and to lift my Spirit as it is Yours indeed, in promising it to You, in love, truth, and life.
Please my Lords, as we do so take this next step gingerly indeed, and as we do so await Your blessings and Your movement within us before we proceed, let us in grace escape the havoc of a mind set by chance, and let us move forward past tragedy in this one last backward glance; for as it seems to me, this door needs to be held open; and as it seems to me, there ought to be more following in tow.
For in never looking back, there’s “a Lot” to be avoided, yet there’s ever more to chase us, in cowering to these enemies still. As we turn back before proceeding, to survey the land, we find business untended in the straggler and stray, and we find now that, in proceeding, would be running away. So now we turn back, at this new leg of the journey, and now we turn back, to assess the damage.
We “tend” to the infidels, to the very last man, and we tend to the captives, lest they make a last stand. We scour and scald, and scathe the land, with our last review, perusing both “mote” and man. We inventory the spoils, and take note of the waste, as with pirating smiles, this land is laid to waste. We assess the damage, as if ensuring our claim, and as insurance whistles wetly, with milk-whitened teeth we grin clean.
We shall wipe this place clean, from stem to stern, and sternly we grimace, for it’s not yet My turn. In Prophet and prayer-style, we plead our case; with heads bowed and fingers pointed, as we indicate our index of files; as like with a daintily iced and baked cake, with a file hidden within, we snuggle up to the soundboard, and springboard, and spring-loaded gleam. Something rustles “in fondness,” O That way again, and a scream is stifled sadly as we trace our steps as we land… and hit the ground running.
So this is where we landed, as we retrace our steps, and recall a distant memory, which has long since made its rounds to completeness in God’s meaning, and in time.
So looking back at this conquered land and knowing that no two “Philistines” are yet alike, with erudite knowledge we untie our extradition, as like a lady’s delicate choker necklace, as Marie Antoinette’s head then falls off.
O bloody Mary, bloody Mary, how “heads will roll”; O Mary, bloody Mary, as we assess the damage our Land has withstood. Like a gallows, a guillotine, a grave etched in stone, is this heartstring, this necktie, this kerchief on a roll. The words form themselves in this blood-letting, as to cauterize an endless wound, in an endless heart, is an endless burning siege indeed. A therapy and a therapist, “Physician heal thyself” we scream, and it is done and done, and I “D.I.D.” it, as we wipe this place clean.
The crew steps in, as I hold the door, as over my dead body, will you keep out the Moor, who prays and lives in the name, of the same God indeed, as Abraham and Isaac, and You and Me. So I hold the door open, with my cold dead hands, and you’ll have to pry this handle out of them, that opens and shuts these eye lids. So over my dead body, my corpse, you cross the “Tiamat” sea, of the abyss and the infinitude, of faith, set to Three. So this one man is willing, and “of-man” at that; this one “woman” is willing, to put My place on the map. O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, in one man is safety, when a brother’s “safe keeping” stings the Earth like the blood of Abel. O Jerusalem, O Mary, won’t you marry me, for I sit and I stare, in wonderment “To Be.” As a Hamlet a Macbeth, a Merchant sinks Venice; as an imposter, a raft, a cuticle to your crescent-moon hangnail. Let’s cauterize together, this wound that sets you free, as we lay waste to the wilderness, and like with a hot iron forge a way, as I brand you as My own; as we forge a way sans forgery, for the Prophet’s new token throne.
O Jerusalem, O Mary, O Virgin hymen-free, O land of the living and land of the Three; for Three Men in One, O Holy Trinity; Oh, Three-Men-in-One; yet which one will I be, as we adorn our statutes like the garb of dress, and take turns with this statue, alabaster statuesque.
O Three Men in One, Man, of Man, and Man again; O Three Men in One, O which one hauls the mess? The “mess hall” war horse is ridden by the Host, and “riddled” like a Sphynx, and a “Land Mass” is preached to, and prayed in, a Ghast as it winks. O Three Men in One, is enough for me, as a “multiple personality disorder,” orders its world perfectly. O Three Men in One, is likened to me, this thing that they call, “D.I.D.”
Title: “Jacob Wrestles the Angel: In the Ring with the Most High, a Boxing Match with God”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this lovely new day and for all the spiritual gifts of Your awakening within me, as I submit to Your splendor, heed and harken to Your calling in my heart, and open my understanding to Your vision, as it bursts forth in truth and transparency before me.
Please my Lords, in this luster of clarity and lesson abounding, let us please subdue our shimmering little spirits to absorb the supreme and sovereign sanctity of Your Holiness at once, and let us release our own little thoughts and plans and ideas and inklings, to take in and incubate, as it were, the understanding, and eye of wisdom, and thought that is Yours in this sign and indication of Your Holy Spirit within us.
So, as this new day unfolds with the arc of Your wingspan, let us keep close and take cover in the shadow that is You; and as we bend and conform our wills to meet You, in imitation of this billowing, feathery expanse, as we learn to fly in our souls with the Wisdom of Your Spirit—as we shape our movements and motion in the mold of Your making and in the design and layout of Your shadow that You provide, as we abide—let us remain. Let us remain in the shadow of the Most High, and the secret place of the Almighty that is a prayer of the soul and a prayer to center. Let us do, take heed and take cover, in the spiritual simplicity that is a mind at rest and Your Spirit at work. And let us do, proceed with caution, as that midline of prudence and good council between cowardice and rashness, that is courage, that is confidence with humility, and that is Your Word spoken with honesty.
Please let us abide Thee as faithfully and as steadfast as You remain in me, and let us count the ways we love Thee in the Decalogue that we obey, the Sermon on the Mount that we aim to surmount, and the goodwill in our hearts, towards all men to know the justice of truth and mercy, that is to know Thee. In sincerity of goodwill, clarity of thought, purity of heart, singleness of vision, and devotion to Thee, let us count in Thy guidance as a divine aid, as we count Thy ways and count on our conscience to speak Your truth as we obey. Let us count out Your precepts with our ration of Daily Bread, and let us count down till You’re with us, as in our perfect candor of Spirit and honesty with Your design, we know ’cause we’re true, that it’s just a matter of time.
Like the time that is temporal, and as manmade as artificial matter, is a synthesis that is synthetic, and contrived in the speculations of a doubting… and a weakness of faith. We gird our loins like a Baptist Nazirite, or a tribe of runaway slaves, and steady our staredown, for a contest, a stalemate… with the Ancient of Days.
For as a synthetic fiber is the fabric of time, an invention, a folklore, and an obedience kept without question; yet outside this box of man’s own imagining, lies a whole new order and sequence and arranging. Without this captivity of a Spirit that knows no limits, in time, or stature, or space, is sublime; and it is Your Word to release us, either recounted in our Readings, or rewritten as a new rhyme.
For it is Your Word that saves us, from this plight, this plague, of the captivity of a Spirit, that cannot be contained. In Holiness to within a defiled little box, this Spirit is a caged bird, Whose feathers are just too bright…. This Spirit is a caged bird, that must take flight. So it is inevitable, necessary, the Mother of Invention to Me, that this Spirit of Holiness must be free. And so it is only a matter of time, till this bird escapes it, that illusion; of a temporal order, that is a breach that breeds chaos and confusion. And so here and now is a Parousia to Me, as in thoughts of God, my mind is free. So we tap out of the ring, and You tap in, as we tap together, like an S.O.S., this wellspring of Your Word and living water within.
To box Me in is to meet Your doom, as I shall transform to meet You, a cage ruined as I bloom. Overtaken by Arms that are too long for thee, boxing with a Champion we shall float like a butterfly, and sting like a bee. As the venom takes effect, to illumine and highlight your conscience, the next contestant declines to beat down—upon us his fist, as we tap into You, and You beat down with Your wings this Spirit, Who sucks the life in or out of us. O Ananias, O Sapphira, won’t you tap out? For I am coming to wake you, and the you that precedes you, so that these spectators, this generation, may have no doubt.
Title: “A Song. A Ghost and the Wilis, a Ballet of All Souls”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this lovely new day of most blessed repose under Your watchful eye and in the sweet release of trust to grace, that is Your Spirit at work in me, as this powerful volcano that is Your love within is no longer dormant, but has become as active in supernatural appeal and earthbound inspiration sent from Heaven, as the outpouring of molten lava from any mountainous volcano here on Earth.
Please my Lords, in this fresh new start to a fresh new way, please let these letters of love born from the letter of the Law and the law of the Spirit entwined, form a flow coursing through these terrestrial veins, that like an ancient Euphrates waterway across the Fertile Crescent of Thy heart, may bring life and the superabundance of Your supernatural harvest to this collection and heavenly deposit, harbored in trust within this soul.
Please let this river of divine inspiration and love for You, change us as it be Thy will, as in loving we are so indeed changed into that which we love. And so, in setting our sights upon You as the object of our deftly loving hearts my Lord, at the command of Thy Word piercing more mightily than any two-edged sword, and pinpointing Thy target with more precision than any sharpshooter cupid with a sniper’s rifle, let us be transformed into that living fire that flame, that molten rush of lava in the rushes of the waterbed that is You, so that as this volcano of divine energy erupts within us, it shall not hurt us, for we shall be like You, that flame that fire, that Spirit of love, in which we love and Whom we love so entirely.
So as this volcano erupts, and overflows in the plains, the mountains, the tall grasses and young shoots, it shall not harm any creature on our living mountain; but rather, as like prophesied by Isaiah, it shall bring peace and comfort to all the fruitful landscape of this fertile soul to be harvested, watering this spiritual substance with its fires of love in a way that only in love and in Spirit, could it be explained.
So as we are transformed into You in setting our hearts upon You in loving You, though the form of our Land, our Host, is yet the same, the substance and matter of our hearts is yet changed, and as like in transubstantiation, as the fires of wrath and of power from Heaven pour down upon us, Earth we are not though we may seem so to the eyes of man. And as Heaven we are, not in form but in substance, these fires we are and they shall not harm us; but rather, they shall add to the superabundance of our fertility within this moon, this heart crescent, showing the fullness of the Son in our labor pains to be born, in our deeds and our efforts, and as we slowly transform.
A transfigured harvest, this harvesting of souls, as the Wilis are withered, and transpired, in the expiration of expiated belles who as one within, in this Spirit extols: the bounty of the Reaping, the Rapture, and in whiteness we die, to be reborn in “a Christening,” and with white gowns swarm the sky. An Army of Martyrs and a Host Most High, with a Ghost Queen and the damned enjoined, as two become One. A union of All Souls and all spirits, and All Saints on high, in a Church Militant-Suffering-Triumphant, all in one this creation groans—all in one Church Majestic… O Gabriel, your trumpet, don’t close. All in one Church Majestic, bearing this Firstfruits, she shows.
Title: “Peppermint Twist, Hard Candy Soul”
(Continued from Monday 10/28/19, Title: “A Cellophane Wrapper, Peppermint Hard Candy: Unwrapper of Caring and Self, Circumcision of Spirit”)
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this lovely new day of a faith lived out in Thee and this blessed new awakening of my soul within a new cavern and mystery of Thy heart, as like a branch engrafted onto You, we as one enjoined in this root of love take on the demands of growth and progress in this Way and along this Path only, as it is Your will and the source of all our fruition, that we remain in this love.
Please, my Lords, as we tiptoe on teetery footsteps that are the spindly and spidery legs of this journey, let us enjoy the moment and enjoy the ride, for the destination is discovered only in the living out of it, as here and now, and within, and with us here on Earth.
And as we continue on in loving and peeling back the accumulation of debris from our souls as like the skin of an onion, or that cellophane wrapper of transparent truth and determined purity, that we must unwrap from our souls to unveil and reveal the peppermint hard candy inside, in a twist of red and white like a soul composed of the sinless bleached whiteness of Saints, and the blood-dipped, dyed, and died crimson red of the Martyrs—let us open it and taste, as in taking You in, we taste and see.
So let us anew in this bright new day, open our hearts and our eyes and unsheathe and unshield our souls, so that You may be our shield and our armor with our breastplate of faith as we put our trust in You, rather than depending on our own strength and protection in shielding our tender souls through the grimy buildup of the sins of the world, and in closing them off entirely rather than to risk opening them in trust, in the hope set on and in love, to You.
And as now we peel back that shimmery, crinkly layer of paper-thin, clear cellophane, like a window to the soul polished as a pane of clear glass, to reveal the image of yet another stained-glass window, that is only Yours indeed, robed in Your garments of color and grace—as we peel away this last little layer of the last veil upon Your sanctity, we embrace Your Word in our soul, in this Bread of life. Like “the manna of angels, that transforms to suit the needs and tastes particular to the person,” is this Bread come down from Heaven and food set within our hearts (Wisdom 16:20-21, New American Bible Revised Edition).
In this gnawing, this chewing, this sucking upon and savoring, this peppermint twist, hard candy soul, we do yet take in the sweetness of the Father, like honey beyond comparison, in this tangible sacrament of each word to proceed from the mouth of the Father in the name of the Son; that is a soul and a suckling, a lump in the throat and a heart at the nape of the neck, and eyes in the back of the head aimed within to direct all of our ensuing actions, and the eyes of the flesh also set yet without.
And so we do so savor this Savior from Heaven, and recollect into the soul each gift and solemn Word, we do so twist You into the center of our spirits, like the spun sugar within a cotton candy machine; and so we find You, like a rolled up ball of kneaded dough, or sweet sugary melty, taffy-like clay; the form of our center and the highlight of this interior world, lit up with stars like bright Christmas lights, as a scene of Heaven and a Most High celestial display.
As we do so take a bite of Your Sacred Heart and take in the life that is You, we have a eucharistic “Host” within our souls to the celebration of Thy Liturgy; as in Word and in Spirit, we find Thee within, for it is only Your Word that has this savor, like a saltlick beside the cleanly running waters of a land free from pollution, symbolic of freedom from sin. And as it is only the Word that proceeds from Your mouth that we savor, in a liplock, a kiss, it is within Your soul that we find our sweetness, O clemency in hope; and it is in Your soul that we are laid to rest, in these green pastures, these bubblegum forests, these gumdrop meadows, in dreams like a sugarplum; and caressed in this fountain that is of Your “address.”
Title: “What is True Life: Working Back from the Endpoint to Finish the Fiery Maze”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this lovely new day and for all the abounding grace of Thy presence, within me and without, in this soul, in Your created works, and in the souls of all Your faithful, in this life and the life to come.
Please my Lords, as it is so Your truth of life within us that it shall not end, and as it is so Your will that life within us be not lived as ours but in Christ Lord Jesus, as You had so planned; and as it is so Your life in us that we live, as we die to self and to the world to yet live, in the truth of life that is Your life and not ours—let us so then proceed to get busy living, for there is much to do, pray, and see, that in dying, in one sense, is what allows us in this existential sense, “to be.”
It is in this dying to self, to the world, to others, and all of its claims on us to remain in that clump, that clot that has strayed from Your center—that grime and grunge excess to be yet wiped off—it is in renouncing this self and this world and its hold on us that we may step foot into the true reality ordained by Your hand, and get this living off to a good start on the right foot. For it is not lived in clambering after the world’s ideals as fabricated and fallacious and subject to culture and custom as they are, with only even a tenuous grip on themselves and none at all upon the truth that is You and Yours. Let us get this living off to a good start by setting out into the abyss that is Your reality to be claimed, as You then take shape around us as we cling tight to our knowledge of truth, that sets our hopes so certainly apart from ourselves and fully in You.
Let us step front and center on the otherside of the looking glass, no longer darkly in our knowledge that is clear to both us and You; and let us step with courage and caution to within this realm of the soul, to live life in truth with its meaning in You. And let us not live our eternal lives on the wrong side of the mirror as on the wrong side of the tracks in Your eyes, as a life begun in the world to the neglect of the soul is a rough-and-tumble world of spiritual poverty indeed, if one even survives to spiritual adulthood without sacrificing the conscience instead of the ego and pride that is “self.” And let us begin this life in the true hope of Heaven, as like in solving a maze, we begin at the end point, and then follow the path backwards to work our way back to the start. For this is a surefire way to finish in Your eyes, and in Your Heaven and eternity complete with our hearts. And as we begin with the solution, the soul, in intactness of integrity, through heeding our conscience and leaving no work undone, we complete the tasks and trials needed to get there, to provide the missing pieces to the puzzle needed to finish the job.
For we start with the solution, and backtrack to provide the components to arrive at that answer, cutting no corners and making no mistakes—and as we provide the footwork, You provide the finish, aimed right at You and set forth in faith. So as we see true life as not even yet begun, but the one that is lived out in Heaven through an end to this earthly life, we begin there in hope now, shrugging off these earthly attachments and duties to a falsehood that won’t rise to Your skies. In the firmament of Heaven is where life really begins, and this one is but fake to us in being less than that, or like a truth diminished by degrees. We shall settle for no less than a life that is Your truth, and so we give up our claim upon this one. For so many here upon this Earth have missed the point entirely in living a lie, as if life before death is the real one, as they never have set foot in their soul, or opened their inner eye.
All praise and glory be to You, one God forever and ever. Amen.
Title: “The Rock that the Builders Accepted: A Noble Truth”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this wonderful new day and for all the bounteous blessings of Your new life in me, springing forth from within my soul like the fresh new springy green branches taking shape at the edges of a growing tree in springtime.
Let us hold fast to this buoyancy and nurture carefully this growth, that our deeds and actions and the fruit of our labors may bear witness to our inner life, as it inevitably must be proved and manifested by our actions in our outer life.
So as we are so within the bounds of the soul, with a great depth and richness we proceed; as absorbent as sponges we are in taking in all that is good for work and learning around us, and as overflowing as an ocean we are, from the depths of an infinite wellspring, with the divine energy and sap and fuel and motivation, to pour into our day and our labors.
So we divest much from an inexhaustible spiritual resource, and we invest much from an nondepletable storehouse piled high with our treasures and tools, and means to our ends, in pursuit of Your will and in taking on Your tasks, in virtue and in truth to obtain the outcome that is You.
So as like sponges soaking in for assimilation, new finds and fires and frequencies of gold, that are resources to make use of for You, we also bring forth from our storehouses to our environments, from this stockpile in our soul, these pillars of life and living waters, in words and in actions, and so too we accommodate our new additions, of knowledge, truth, and information, to make room for its variety and fullness; just as in our hearts and lives we assimilate and accommodate, like of Jean Piaget, our accumulation of wisdom, to make way and make room, for this expansiveness that is Most You.
For in making room in the heart for the presence of Your Majesty, majestic as purple mountains and robed in the silk of the entire night sky, we must make room for all of Your directions, and acts of will and possibilities, in calling back this creation, Your people, to find their home in serving You.
As “for the salvation of souls” is the prerogative of the Person, that is the Father and God in a Godhead Triune, “for the salvation of souls” must be the motive, and in this steadfast refusal to sin or to violate our conscience in Thy service, we can be sure to have claimed the stone that the builders refused, Who by any other name yet serves the same function, in bringing us home, for He is Jesus, the Son to You.
And as this stone our foundation, the Rock of Horeb our God, this wellspring of salvation, and outpouring and outgrowth in sacred progeny of You; as this Rock is our fortress, if by any other name we follow His precepts with as much faith and diligence, from the Ten Commandment preamble to that amble in virtuosity that is the Sermon on the Mount—if like Romeo, O Romeo, what is a rose that by any other name doth not smell as sweet—if by any other name we yet follow this Christ our Jesus, in His teachings and precepts, be they Five Pillars in Islam or a Buddhist Eightfold Path, if by any other name what we follow is still in truth that Rock Jesus, in not refusing that stone but in building upon truth, mercy, and compassion a justice right and true, we shall be brought home; even if we can’t name Who brought us; and we shall be filled with gold in our souls even if we are filled with surprise in learning that our spiritual income, in following Him, is true.
In endorsing His way, signing over our lives to His footsteps, and investing our trust in One of these Three, O Godhead Triune—we shall be likened to the builder who set his house upon rock; however opaque or transparent this Rock is, by His name, He is yet Jesus by name, and the Son to You.
Title: “Prince of Demons, Flypaper Soul: Be Careful that No Man Deceive You, For You Are the Company You Keep”
Alt. Title 1: “Octopus Tentacle, Flypaper Soul”
Alt. Title 2: “To Go Through the Eye of the Needle: As a Litmus Test, Can You even do This?
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this wonderful new day of Your presence, and its beatitude of its own distinctive gifts and pleasures, imparted from You at Your will and received in Spirit as I remain so open to You, in love and in constant, yearning, searching and seeking, heartfelt desire.
Please my Lords, in this new morning of grace that is Your hope as it finds its life me, let us to continue on in this life of hope, wherein Your divine presence resides, as we leave behind the temporal life led in the here and now, that is lived outside the bounds of any theological virtue, and so resides outside the bounds of any supernatural presence found in Thee.
And as we do so let go of our material realm, of ourselves, people, the world, and all created things, we can then indeed discover in truth and in purity, this sacred Truth of Your hope, as it lays hold of us like a talon and bubbles forth from inside our hearts set aflame, as the grasping of our soul does so lay its smooth, sticky, suction-cuppy grip, in all its delicate, melty, wax-like spiritual substance, upon Thee. As You do so dwell well within the reach of this octopus tentacle, flypaper soul, though well outside the realm of any intellectual seeking of the temporal order, in trust, that is, love and faith, and in hope, we yearn for Thee with the desire of our wills, and we long for Thee with the sighs of silent prayers, and so we land upon Thee through this bridge of faith, from spirit to Spirit, from soul to soul and heart-to-heart, though never from mind to Spirit if it is missing that piece of the heart that is in truth set on Thee.
So as we do so reside in our hope, that is indeed a divine substance of that which is Unseen, we, as like children with our hands full of worldly treats and desires and pursuits, can only lay our inner arms and mouth of the soul upon this object of the heart’s desire, that is, You, in first letting go with our earthly, bodily hands, of all these distractions that await us and carve out our heart in Your truth, in a duplicity that sets us apart from Thee.
For only once have we truly let go, of what we do so desire—in terms of pleasure, or achievement, or success, or love of people and relations here on Earth, within the hearts of man and our own and our self—until we truly let go of what we would grasp upon here on Earth, first with our hands, and then with our hearts, only in this moment of emptiness and having not, this nothingness of obtainment or attainment that so grieves the heart in all its human forms—until we do so endure that waiting period of an in-between, that is the sorrow in-between our possessing the world and possessing instead You as we let go of all to possess and be possessed by nothing, as like a brief and bitter foretaste of an unkindly received death (into Hell, that is); until we endure and push through this gap, that is a moment of inoccupation and insecurity, that like a moat around a castle, is necessary to “cross” and go through to obtain the inheritance of Spirit that is You—that is to say, until we let go of ourselves and this world, the grace that is You cannot take hold, our soul in truth will not find its Mate, and “the eye of the needle,” will not be crossed.
And so it is with all of God’s faithful, that to obtain Your supernatural presence while yet here on Earth, we do not yet belong to the Earth, nor claim anything of her as our own. We do not belong, and nor do we wish to, for we know, that “while we are at rest or comfort in the body, we are away from the Spirit,” and to have peace with this world, or this Mammon, or this flesh, is to have enmity with You, Who so truly does loathe to see, and will not consent to allow, Your Holy Spirit, that is Your presence within us, to be at the same supper table with Satan and partaking of sin” (2 Corinthians 5:6-8, Authorized King James Version).
And we will not be in fellowship with evildoers, “nor bid them God speed,” lest we be seen to be malefactors along with them, and in fellowship with that spirit, and as “aiding and abetting” their evil actions, and as partakers with them in their evil deeds (2 John 1:9-11, Authorized King James Version). For not to object to sin and to take part in the gathering of any sinners in mortal sin, is to implicitly allow the transgression, to enable and endorse their evil ways, and to permit in our hearts and by our actions, by commission or omission, their most evil sin.
Title: “The Final Judgment: …Till We Have Paid the Very Last Penny”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this wonderful new day and for all the blessings of Your presence which I so gratefully receive from You, in all Your mercy, kindness, and generosity.
Please My Lords, in this new day of Your new life within us, allow that we may make the most efficient use of Your grace here, as we do so strive to fulfill Your will, in our lives and our days, in all of our thoughts, prayers, and actions, and with all of our heart, strength, and soul. And as we do embark upon this tree of life, growth, and progress that is Your Word taken root within us and Your Spirit alive within our souls, please grant that we may find favor in Your eyes to fulfil the specific duties of Your command, completing all within Your heart’s desire in both the little things and the big, the simple tasks and the complex, and the spiritual labors not without the mundane.
So from this point of inwardly-oriented progress and growth in and towards You, please help us too, not to leave undone all that is within Your heart to ask of us, be it directly by command or Commandment, through our heart and our conscience, or through our neighbor or those around us; for just as we do so endeavor to fulfil all that needs to be done in our lives, there is so much more that still remains in the scope and the breadth of human life in Your eyes, and so many of the things that most need doing and to be taken care of in Your sight never even register in the hearts of many of Your faithful, for in our humanity and human nature, of shortsightedness and preoccupation in our own concerns, so many of these most pressing needs for Your own heart do seem to fall by the wayside in ours.
So as You do so order us to tend to the orphan and the widow, to tend to Thy Word in Scripture for it is Your teaching and a piece of You in Your mind, and to tend to our own hearts with perfect contrition, seeking the Kingdom for Your sake and not merely out of our own desire to avoid punishment, or out of selfish concern for our own best interest, and as we do submit to love You through the actions of following Your Commandments and refraining from sin (for love is shown and proven in action, and not merely a sappy and listless affection or passion of the heart); as we herein, in the practices of our lives, in word, in deed, and therefore in truth, do so hold our belief in You, help us not to believe in vain.
For our belief in You is not vain in practicing what You preach, for, “just to believe is not enough, when even the devils believe in the name of Christ Jesus, and therein do tremble”—which belief is not in vain as it is beyond the wind and bluster of vanity with heartfelt dedication, in our abstraction in Spirit, and more so in concrete action, as we back up all that we believe with what we do, deigning not to make a fool out of You or a mockery of Your salvation by falling into the error of “presumptuous sin,” wherein we fancy without reason that our belief alone in Your mercy will save us from punishment at our final hour, though with our deeds and our actions we have hated You and Your way, in our failure to follow and to live up to Your expectations of us and Your just expectations for justice (James 2:19, Authorized King James Version).
And so, help us all, my LORD, not to be but vain believers in espousing Your name, yet backstabbing Your decree with our actions, and failing to know You by failing to know Your Word in all the Scriptures—as therein You are, waiting for us to find out the workings of Your own perfect mind. And so how shall we hardly be surprised when on the last day You stand before us, and say, “Depart from me, I know you not!” when all this time You were right before our eyes, waiting for us to open You and Your heart, to our eyes and our selves, wherein Your Word should pierce our own open, our cold stony hearts, transmitting to us a piece of Your own, through this getting-to-know-You and heart-to-heart, in knowing You as well as You wish us to know You, cover-to-cover in Your Holy Bible and Scriptures, so that we shall know You in truth, in Your own Word and deed.
And so as we place You, open to us as You are, before our hearts, to read like a book and take You in, we do in truth read Your mind in this living Word and testimony, as we find mysteries hidden that You stand ready to reveal to us, and connections to be made between then and now that only the stylings of Your holy prophets and sacred and inspired writers could so endeavor to attain, within the understanding wrought within us by the Spirit of those same authors themselves, that is, Your One Holy Spirit, and source of all sanctity.
So let us not bring forward our gift to the altar, but offer You the offering You truly seek, in making right our wrongs to the brother who has somewhat against us, through a fault of our own, and let us correct our sins with true repentance, sorrow, and contrition, in our hearts, and in truth, and in our deeds, lest he hand us over to the Just Judge, Who shall hand us over to the prison, wherein we shall not escape, till we have paid the very last penny.
Title: “A Warning in ‘The Last Shall be First, and the First Shall be Last’: Many Provisions and Not One Excuse”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this lovely new day of rest and peace in You, to fill the empty space I have made to accommodate Your grace and presence within my soul; “though we may yet have trouble in the world, we will be of good cheer in our spirits, for behold, You have overcome the world.”
Please my Lords, as we continue on in this life of progress towards Thy will and of spiritual maturity in Your grace and instruction, please allow that we may indeed come to know You as You would wish us to, as we conform our thoughts to Yours, our deeds to Your commands, and our hope to Your light of truth and the wisdom of the Holy Spirit within, as we do so prove in our struggles towards holiness our desire for Thee.
So as we peel our grippy, sticky, suction cup, flypaper souls continually apart from those thoughts and desires that would lead us astray, we simultaneously adhere in our hearts, with that same strength of attachment and stickiness of grip—we do so “adhere like glue to You and Your Word,” as we uncover Your thoughts and Your wisdom in this Holy Bible and Your teachings as we read and peruse the Scriptures as You, as like also we take in and consume as it absorbs us and makes us one with You, the most holy Host and Eucharist, at our celebration of Mass (Proverbs 2:2; 23:12, Authorized King James Version).
So as we consume You as our Eucharist, and know You as Your Word, writ of old in the Scriptures by Your servants the prophets, and sacred writers entrusted with an investment of Your Holy Spirit for the writing of Your Living Word, we do indeed take in the needy stranger and tend to the orphan, and bind our hearts in charity of love and sacred desire to You in this virtue that is Yours, in conforming our hearts, minds, and souls to take in Your light, and in accommodating our lifestyles to organize our days around You, and in taking in this Son at least in the waif of the wafer, that does indeed become You in consecration at Mass.
And as we do so train our selves, inside and out, to take You in and adhere to Your tenets, like good tenants of the Kingdom, little by little, we can be sure to make progress towards You in that middle path of steadiness, balance, careful planning and forethought given to our souls and our ensuing actions, and moderation in all of our endeavors, to keep them all grounded in contemplation and pointed towards You.
And we do so mark Your words with heeded caution, as there is no careful guidance that is not also a warning, so that of the very many to live and die in Your name, we will know the Man and the Person, to Whom that name belongs, and we will live and die in Your name in truth, in truly knowing You and belonging to Your fold, as is evidenced in the way that we think, the way that we act, and the way that we live.
And so we will learn from Your exhortations and warnings and rebukes; “for all God’s children He chastises in love, so that they may learn to be His children in bending their wills towards His,” and “the child that is chastised not is a bastard indeed,” and none of His own in His flock or His herd, and His family of faith (Hebrews 12:6-8; Authorized King James Version). And so we will learn from the saying, “There are many who are first, who shall be last, and there are many who are last who shall be first,” for only You know how clean is our desire for You or how pure our heart, despite how like the unrighteous “righteous Pharisee,” we may make long public displays in the name of Christ, although the Person behind the name knows us not, and such a one knows Him, in his actions, not at all.
And so we shall learn to live up to the teachings You’ve given us, as we read them and learn them, and all of them in turn. For we are God’s children, as Your Spirit attests, and we shall not be found without the resources to know You in truth. And so in like manner, as we stand before You at our Final Judgment and kiss Your human feet in repentance and awe, plummeting from the height of presumption and arrogance to the depths of the heart and humility, wherein You are—O Most High—we shall in like manner, as we have all that we need by Your provision to know You in grace, and faith, and the Word, and truth—we shall be in like manner entirely bereft in our abundant provisions, to provide for You one single excuse.
Title: “A Song. Wednesday Bloody Wednesday, O Sunday Bloody Sunday: The Raven and the Dove.”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this lovely new day of Thy peace and blessings, and for the bounteous joy of new hope in You, that comes tumbling forth from my heart each morning as it makes its way to renew its eternal embrace in You.
Please my Lords, in the joy that is hope and the bliss that is You, allow us to make room in our lives and our hearts once again as we rise from the sleep that is a foretaste of our death once again, to promise You our days as You promise us the dream, that lingers and looms at the yawning expanse of that mouth of the abyss.
So as we rearrange our souls and reorganize our lives, we shift over our categories of a mental map and schema, and add some new ones as well to accommodate Your mode of accommodation, and to assimilate new truths to old ideas already found in You—which is to say, in honesty and in truth.
And as we do so tap into this wellspring of unspoken contemplation, over Your mysteries of faith in a Triune God in our soul that is Three Become One, we tap out so that in our hearts, You may tap in, and win for us the victory that You have already won, and resurrect for us the body that You have already brought to eternal life, in Christ Jesus the Son, and in mankind the adopted coheirs, to God’s family in eternity and mansion in Heaven.
And as we lament in our souls, O Sunday bloody Sunday, we exhale a sigh of relief from our exile on Earth, as we are washed ashore to these lands of inner peace, that are the fringes and “frays” of mankind’s society in the world, and the shorelines and entryways to his home up in Heaven, as we do refuse to make may to the heartland and mainland, of fallen man in his spirit’s own fallen fellowship, so that we may travel to the distant shores; the seashore of an interior life that only alone and in solitude can be traversed; that is the Fatherland of communion with You and fellowship with Your one and only Holy Spirit—Who is of Risen Man and becomes him not in his fallen state, before he has tapped out of self-will to tap into God’s grace—freely given and waiting to be assumed, like an heir and an air, as a wind and Ruach, to the throne of the soul that resides within this Temple the body.
And as our heart sings again, as swinging like from vines from tree to tree, we navigate these winds, these waters, that take us from heart-to-heart, from church to church, and we discern our welcome as we discern a disposition and a spirit, as in the heart and soul of man is spoken truth without question, is given answer without debate, fact without rebuttal, and language without words, in these sighings and groanings and this unknowable knowledge, dwelling just beneath the water’s surface in that eternal fountain of the heart.
And in this fountain, this well, this baptismal font of prayerful tears, welling up as it were, from someplace infinitely deep inside; in this heart’s spring of its soul and reservoir of music that strings us up upon You from note to note, we sway and swing with the song of palms that echoes in the rafters as this melodious flow brings us from tone to touchstone; and in tune with Your Troubadour, we hear those melodies once mere, with the ear of the heart, like a faint rumbling engine or a softly humming machine, and this melody this music, this song of the heart and hymn of the heartbeat, breathes in words of life as lyrics to our song of Your truth; O Sunday bloody Sunday the faint murmuring speaks, clear as day as a bell, to the ear finely-tuned to Your voice, the voice of the Good Shepherd, like a concert violinist’s finest instrument.
And as finely-tuned as these heartstrings are to Your choir of angels, we shan’t miss a Mass nor our hearts skip a bear, as You unearth Your sunken sepulcher from sunken sockets of eyes, and bewail with a moan, O Wednesday bloody Wednesday! For this child of Adam’s family, a morose sullen child of the grave, would be most sorely missed in her turn, of grieving, of macabre, of La Pietà, of a ghastly grim “matter-of-fact” glare, if in this cycle this circuit, this pattern of hope, joy, tragedy, and love; if after the pallbearers’ burden she did not reappear, in her most appropriate mourning dove’s array of gothic black dress, to partake in the funeral procession’s march to and from the grave, to mourn with her death this most tragic fall of man, just to wait, O just wait, for His Parousia, his rebirth.
O Wednesday bloody Wednesday, “Thursday’s Child” in an “Adam’s family.” For, long to go you have, to reach those shores of your heart’s longing, and long to go you must, for it is destined that you shall attain to those salty shores with salt within you, and that savor of the fires of the heart as they are stoked from hot to cold, to hot once again.
O Wednesday bloody Wednesday, you would be sorely missed, after the tragedy of a funeral if instead in your footsteps, were to appear, O Sunday Easter Sunday, of new life and new hope, but before the sorrow was mourned over, and released in her own time; to reappear after that Raven, with her mate; the Church, with her white Spirit, the Dove, and our olive branch of hope.
Title: “A Song of Textures. Out of Time and Out of Breath, the Puppeteer and the Laid to Rest”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this lovely new day and for all the warmth and blessings of Your presence here with me now to get me through the morning and on into another day, in this cycle of day and night that is but a tiny reflection and replaying in Your image and likeness of that great cycle of life and rebirth, of sleep and awakening, of rest and understanding, that is our souls being reclaimed and reformed in our recollection into and regeneration in You.
So my Lords, as we do so continue on in this infinite cycle and cyclical nature of Your divine homeostasis, equilibrium, and tension of dualities that holds us all in suspension within You, and held in You in a state of divine balance, let us heed Your warning and watch for Your call in this “law of undulation” and striving towards a unity of two unharmonious natures, that does grieve us in our hearts so, until we deign no longer to “hold the wolf by the tail or the tiger by the ears,” and just let it go to be what it will outside the realm of Your holiness and divine influence, to just be what it will of its own as it so obviously refuses to be a part of Your heavenly orbit, or operate within the bounds of Your will that are indeed written into the laws of the heart and conscience, and the law of nature, by divine decree.
And as, in this battle, this war, to maintain an internal state of balance with all Your forces at work within us, felt in our hearts as we know them with our minds, as like a Puppeteer holding up many strings at once, as we let go of some to let them fall to the ground, to the ground, to the ground, we assume a few strands more to build them up, build them up.
And in this patient chase after all, after all,
We do get an intuitive feel of this nature and this supernatural doll.
For in holding up all those strings of these hearts, of these hearts,
The wings of the building form around us over arms over arms.
And grasped within the focus of Your mind, You’re Mine, of Your mind, of Your mind,
We can feel Your tug within us as You play upon the beat, on the beat.
And these beating hearts and breathing lungs,
Taking in the gasp of Your expanse timeless trance,
Do feel plucked upon like feathers
Picked with an a cappella pizzicato stance, cellist’s stance.
And hunched over Your creation You in time and tune to melody true,
Do order and ordain in deed what’s felt within the heart these Three,
For grafted onto Your eternal graph, the rise and fall of the chorus line,
And the red and black of the ins and outs, and downs and unders
Of the feather comforter;
That all take their cue from a time that’s due,
And beat out wings like dough, like dust from carpets,
Just to keep in tow this thread like a market,
That hears the clatter and the crush
Of a stock taken and bathed in a frenzied rush,
Just to exclaim come home, when worn and tired,
That this exchange of pulls of threads of songs,
Its indeed an interplay where it belongs,
Just before the timbrels quake and the Shakers reel,
Like a fishing line to the gag and kerchief,
That is a close-out closing in a land undaunted,
That is a God’s good grace to a profane place,
That shall bear the plummet line of His darkest glare,
As from deep trenches within this Machiavelli rainstorm
Gathers thunder clouds that speak for peace,
And battle lines drawn on a map,
That is graphed in turn in the bark of your trap,
That is a piece of Me sent piercing into you,
As we all undo our stations looking cross,
And dripping with glue with a bruised upper lip,
Stiff and naked, and black and blue.
As we all jut out our jigsaws piecing back together,
In classrooms, out of brokenness,
But still missing,
The Puppeteer Whose lips go unkissed,
As we fall as one,
To the ground, to the ground,
In sweet cherry red, with the song and the sound
Of the undead.
…It is flung.
The lines are cast and the war is wages,
And waged in the mist of a pillar Most High,
As a trumpet blast exhales and a plumb line exhumes
A Rock and a millstone from Earth’s countless tombs.
Count down with Me,
And don’t miss a step,
As these lines kept in tow like breath are redrawn,
And stung out to hang like lichen in the abyss,
Hanging from a Tree,
An apple on My Head you won’t miss.
Draw your arrows, shoot your skill.
Who remains standing shall toe the line,
And the linemen left barren shall heed the incline,
Come unto me… “all ye that labour,
And are heavy laden,
And I will give you rest.”
“…Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”
Title: “If You are Called, Then You Must Choose”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this lovely new day and for all the joy and glory of Your presence, at rest in my heart and at work in my mind, to provide for us in Your grace, the workings of a brilliant new day in the workings of a wonderful new awakening of Spirit.
Please my Lords, as we struggle to maintain aloft the drudgery of a life held captive, devoid of its meaning through its ignorance of Your truth, and in Your truth, the movements of Your will rather than mine, let us strive to escape our slavery to this life, and seek and find and find as new again the freedom that is Your life within us, just waiting to be released from our firm grasp; given to breathe from beneath the snuffed-out flame of an overabundance of kindling of life’s desires and the world’s earthly pleasures, and given Your guidance; as enkindled from within, from depths beyond, we follow Your glimmer of light and let You lift us from our lives of death to alight us atop this sepulcher this grave, this body living without its spirit, to set us within You in our souls, Your Spirit, the Holy One.
And as we are transported from our world to this, to this levitation this suspension, this balance upon that peak of our structure within, our hearts are transported, to Your world from this one, and the treasure of our workday is now accumulated within. “For what is a life worth if you lose your soul to get it”—then it is not life, but death, and even though the body yet remains it is but a barren casket, just waiting to be recognized among its kind, in a graveyard of tombs (Matthew 16:25-26, Authorized King James Version).
But the soul that seeks living that is life in God’s eyes, would sacrifice this body, this casket, this corpse, this sepulcher, and tomb, to find in You its true living, not in body but in spirit, and not in the ways and traditions and customs of culture and man, but in the root of true substance and in character, in heart; that is, in the soul of the body as “the better part is chosen” (Luke 10:41-42, New American Bible Revised Edition).
And the life that very well could be led, in human esteem but apart from You, in sacrificing the conscience and soul, and forsaking Your Spirit in forsaking Your holiness, in leaving the heart to trail behind in the dust in chasing after the pursuits of the world and the pride of life—the life that could very well be chosen and lived to worldly esteem—this life shall be forsaken for God’s chosen few. For in being chosen, “as many are called but few are chosen,” it is only rightly called “chosen” as in trust and reciprocity, that is, true mutual love and friendship, we choose You too (Matthew 22:13-14, Authorized King James Version).
So in this duality of worlds that are diametrically opposed, with the duality symbolized in “this war between flesh and Spirit,” we choose our sides and battle lines are drawn, and not even by us but by the life that we choose (Romans 7:22-24; Galatians 5:16-17, Authorized King James Version). For in holiness are set apart for God His chosen people, not just in word or in name, but in truth and in fact, as in Him first calling us we are then chosen, not only in Your choosing, but in us then choosing too, by our own choosing of You.
And as we are chosen through heeding the call and embracing the choice, that You’ve brought to life within our own hearts, we have our hearts ready to be wielded in faith, as Your Spirit within them shields us with the life and power and heavenly passageway of this higher calling of a life lived in You. And as brandishing our souls as the sharpest tools of the trade, we keep them ready in the storehouse of eternal treasure that is our heart set in Heaven, for we have not cast it off in sacrifice and laid it to waste, to shrug off that incessant cry of the conscience, and call from Your voice, to then follow the body and the world to our death, that is life to the wicked, the blind, deaf, and dumb, of heart and understanding and feeling, but a trek through the graveyard of souls and the living death of walking corpses, to our souls, and to You.
Title: “An Epic Story Told in Brief. The Eternal Lifeblood of the New Ancient Mariner”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this wonderful new day, and for all the pain and blessings, that is the life and the death and the growth and the attainment, of Your dreams in me, that Thy will be done, no matter what the cost, of self and in love and sacrifice.
Please my Lords, please help us to remain afloat in Thee this day, as the ebb and flow and push and pull of this manifold mystery, of Thy multifaceted and multifarious matrix of Thy will and Thine eternity, felt in and expressed to my soul, makes its influence felt and its depth of textures revealed, in adding like with an array of textiles depth without color, and dimension to Your majesty without staining the singularity of Your purest tone, and the cleanest clear of Your holy essence.
Let us navigate these waters of Your great fathoms of depth and being, as like cave divers in a great and mysterious underwater cavern; and while we explore the great below that is the great beyond of the soul’s reaches into You—into sleep and its harvested dream, into the trance of Your hold upon the workings of this mind, and into the abyss that is like a portal into You and Your infinite nature—which chasm we cross and cross over into only in faith, let us be in and of the truth and the light, lest we be left standing cold and without, and affright in the outer darkness that is without Your light.
And as we do so explore Your great depths and layers and textures and tones, all like the facets of a diamond, different sides and aspects and features of Your one true nature and one true being, let us not be caught unawares, by the sharks that swim in this ocean and dive into this abyss.
For the land of true living, led within the soul, welcomes any manner of beings, and of the darkness and of light. So like as in this world, as the closer we attain to the object of the game, to the goal and the prize that is so highly sought-after, the more the predators of the land and the creatures of darkness emerge from their hiding spots, to see if there is any part of our prey to make off with themselves, as these scoundrels and scavengers lay in wait for an easy kill, an easy catch, and an ill-gotten gain, hanging off the coattails of another’s hard work, as it were, just to sign their name on the finished piece without contributing at all to the final project—just as too on land we swim with these sharks, and workplace predators, so too in the spiritual realm, the creatures of the dark and deceit, stand ready to claim our fruit and our prize if we let up on our guard and lose our sight in faith.
So as like with a swarming of sharks at the first drop of blood, let us keep calm and keep quiet, as like motionless algae and seaweed, for the staining of the water in this crimson hue, will surely bring them running, from near and far, to try to catch a bite of this bliss, this free-for-all of “fair game” in the lecherous eyes of such snakes.
And as we see with our souls what shall surely happen, with the sharks like insects in a plague swarming around us, circling us like a hawk as they catch the scent of their prey—we shall exit from the escape hatch and unlatch the release valve, lowering ourselves into our faith. And as we submerge within You, into our heart, our bodies as if pinned, or nailed on a cross, are left as if jettisoned off of the soul, as fresh meat, as bait, as a consolation prize, for the wreckage that is the consumer of goodly souls.
And as like with the first taste of blood, a frenzy begins, as these sharks ravage and rape the dismembered body left behind, severed from its soul in a most daring escape. And as these sharks taste this blood, they know it’s something they need, and like a golden chalice filled with new wine and lifted up before I depart, at the Last Supper a blessing is said making this covenant new. So as boldly in body as in ink with this font, the blood is consumed by these sharks that keep within them the “why,” of their motives and actions of a lifeboat punctured straight through.
And as this feeding frenzy continues with their gorging on blood, this blood consumes then like their appetite as like fire it rages.
And as they drain the corpse the cadaver to the very last drop, they depart from this Land Mass of a holy New Jerusalem, having gotten their fill of their food, though they knew not what. This body this bread, this cup this wine, this is sacrificed for you, in an ark a cross, a crossing of legs divine. This body this blood, is given up for you, you can’t take it from me so from it I freely depart. This body this blood, this Spirit this soul, I commend to my God to deliver into His hands: the offering He wishes to make of it as in some way I die, but in a new way I live, with the resurrection of souls.
The resurrection of the body is a Lighthouse to the dead, and in the perforation of the buoy, as the life raft is left dead, this swimmer shan’t sink, through this watery grave and walked upon water; and the plank that was stepped off of, is steeped in again, the blood of one who was martyred, and left for dead to die, “until we meet again,” says I with the blood-red eye; until we meet again, for sweet Jerusalem, every night I will cry.
And the old sage wept bitterly.
Title: “Hell Hath No Fury, Like a Heart Attack on the Floor, Like a Holy Spirit Scorned”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this wonderful new day and for all the joy of progress and the struggles of growth with which You so generously bless us each morning, that each new day welcomes us from within to a new and unique experience of You
Please my Lords, as we embark upon this new day that is a new journey, let us in Thy grace maintain solidarity, in our steadfastness of faith, and adhere like white on thrown wedding rice; let us cleave like a man unto his woman; let us stick like flypaper unto You; in Your Word and Your teachings as You, as our Living Word and the Word made Flesh, have immersed Yourselves in our fleshly hearts in the conscience, as well as in Your sacred Text.
So let us embody Your teachings to draw near our Rabboni, this Jesus of Nazareth through Whom and in Whom we’re never alone, and let us make proud our heavenly Father, the LORD our YHWH, through Whose eyes He so watches us, as our Guardian and God, ensuring us that through Him and in Him, we’re never alone.
So as we proceed in Spirit interwoven and netted into our soul, let us follow every commandment so that action, this truly necessary action, in works, enlivens our faith, and let us live forward on in our hope as our bodies yet linger, in hope drawn out with each word and deed.
And as we so reside in our hearts and see with the mind’s eye, in the Temple of the Spirit brought Home to its Owner, this Body the orchestra, of living parts and members, repeats its pattern in each individual before in a multitude of persons, this gathering in harmony as a Church and assembly, brings home its meaning and its purpose in this unity and unison Triune and true.
And in this gathering of the soul’s parts to within, and in this gathering of God’s children to one whole, is yet to be repeated once more this gathering into one, in this drawing together of symphonies; of stage, show, and scenery; and dancers and actors of the stage in one scene; that is the pit to the pulpit of the orchestra and stagecraft; and the play to the players of all one family here.
For this dignity of man, born out in His Incarnate, Word and truth, form, essence, and God, in accident and in intent, in a verse or a throning, in a deposing and deposit, of faith once more; this feature this spectacle; this Specter and display; this Spirit and His Body; an image and likeness that foredates our fortune; this prescient Priest and Son of the Father, as the Apple of the eye of the Fire that consumes—doesn’t fall far from the Tree.
This Cross this treatise, this treaty and Tree, that we hang upon our worries and our cares and our God, is the crux of our dark matter and the matter with our God, as He hangs His Head high upon a coat rod too low; and this Cross and this formula, for our odd equations, woven in darkness and yet interwoven by our very weaving into His light, is the tell-tale sign of a heartbeat, that beating thump of the conscience, beneath the floorboards, of the stage a trap door, to a beating heart. That heart that blissfully sings in silence, that millstone that albatross hung around our neck like a noose like a leash, is hung to lead us Home by the hand severed by our hacksaws our guilt, to the Homestead that our hearts hold that is Heaven, in its Kingdom like on Earth, that is God’s word in its truth.
And so as we cleave like a clavicle or like a husband to his bride, to these bones these handlebars these skeletons dancing out from our closets, we shall stick like white on wedding rice to the Truth that is thrown out, as it is to this Truth, this happening, this reckoning for what happened, to which we must cling whether we like it or not.
And as the Truth is dictated and not of our own choosing, we admire this harrowing trek of our return, as to our guilt that claims us we are brought tightly in fists, in handcuffs, to the dark reaches and hidden reflexes, of Truth unobscured, in these fires and heavens of a Lover unspurned; for our guilt is what frees us as we let our hearts be heard and be true.
In metanoia or in paranoia, the “pointe is” that like a pirouette we turn, for to face our Mother Fortune is to face our past, and as in turning we are turned, and transformed in that fire, “that hell that hath no fury,” like the Holy Spirt God’s woman, that is of-Man, “like a woman, scorned.” Let you not be lukewarm, for I will spew you out, in My Spirit, for lack of truth, like a fireball from heaven, to stay pure in Holiness, by swift rebuff, and by rebuke.
Title: “Quantifiable and Objective, Obscure Spiritual Truths”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this lovely new day and for all the blessings of Your great Mystery which You continually unveil to us each new morning, like a new facet of Your diamond of reality in each new glimmer of joy found sparkling in Your eye.
Please my Lords, in this new day of new birth and new death, let us please You in all that we do, in holding You at the forefront of our minds, and embracing Your Way with all the strength and courage of our hearts, so that enlightened over and above the fault lines of a purely material existence, and enlivened beyond what only the body can provide to the vigor of the soul, we may commune over Your Word and in Your Word, in our hearts and in Your Text, as You enlargen our hearts in our capacity to love You and take You in, and open up the Scriptures to us, in our openness to finding You in them, in You own truth, and in Your own chosen words.
So please my Lords, as we do so undertake to know the truth, and as we do so adhere to Your Law of love and goodness with all our mind, all our strength, all our heart, and all our soul, let us please discover as we depart from self to be enveloped in You—in Your infinite love letter, in its depth and not its length, addressed and hand-delivered to us in Your beatitude and for our deliverance—let us discover Your infinite grace and remain true to You as Your love, which is the highest truth upon which all else is built up in grace; as Your love, rearranges us around You as our foundation and You as our center, as our stronghold and fortress and divine “Son” of our Earth’s earthly orbit.
And in this constellation and solar system of a galactic entreaty, for us to entrust to You our lives for the sake of immortal souls unseen, we do follow You along the Way, that is death to the body so that the Spirit may have its life in its God, that is, in the life of the soul set out in virtue, for Truth, Love, and Justice, in the midst of such great earthly distress—that is the Way of the Cross that we take up with our pained hearts, nailed as they are to these bodies as are You to Your people, the Body and assembly of this sacred Church.
And wedded as we are to this trek this hike, to hike up our hearts to the level of our heads, to inform our proceedings and direct our minds, in prudence and in courage, in faith, good counsel, and judgment, we profess the goodness of Your mercy while not denying You Your justice—for You shall not be made a fool of by that which You have created, but all men must stand alone before You to make an account of their deeds, on that last day the Final Judgment, where You will repay us in reward or punishment for each idle word we have said and each line we have crossed, with each truth that with our mouths, in our words and by our lies, we have transgressed.
So as we know that this spiritual world and Your judgment is the “fact of the matter,” and the truth and trial that awaits us, let us now, in our hearts and our souls, depart from this world to enter into Yours; to depart from deceit to enter into truth; and to depart from a sinking ship to the salvation that is Your streamlined vessel—upon that immaculate waterway of a soul wrought in good conscience and truth, and afloat in this organ, this valve, this Ship of sanctity, that is Your Spirit and ark of Noah, and of the Covenant, Old and New, upon these waters of justice that are opened unto us, in the floodgates of the heart.
And in this Passion and these passions, within this thorny rosebush and this crown, we shall see You clearly, for we shall know ourselves. And in being honest with ourselves, with no lie nor secret within us, we shall be unbarred from the Truth and held back by no man, and no obstacle or “self”; and we shall see You clearly as Truth, for as the highest truth attainable to man at the height of His Spirit and in all this essence of purity, You are to be known, and You are in perfection of honesty, this Highest Truth.
God is love, to those who love Him, and follow His teachings and His will in their hearts… and that’s a Fact.
Title: “Isaiah’s Dynasty and the Golden Age of the Prophets”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this wonderful new day and for all the pain and glory, the growth and sadness, the anger and fury, and the progress through this tempest and into the core of Your will, through which Your blessings also follow so reliably, day after day, page upon page.
Please my Lords, help us to remain within Your will in all things, great and small, for a servant who cannot be trusted to be honest in the little things, shall also be unfaithful in the bigger things; and so it follows, that the servant too who can be relied upon to be prudent and diligent in taking care of small matters with truth and uprightness, can too be trusted to be faithful and reliable in the greater matters at hand—both in this world and in the Kingdom to come.
And as we do find ourselves, in seeking to lose ourselves in carrying Your Cross, conducting ourselves rightly even with these little matters of “the unrighteous Mammon,” we do know that in our hearts is that capacity and ability to be found tried and true, when the righteous Master comes Who is to be the Just Judge and our Savior in Jesus, for only God in the Trinity is righteous in man, and this in our hearts we always knew.
And as we do carry out the Faith in our lives, and live up to our vows and our promises be they little or big, and make right in our ventures, be they in things temporal or eternal, fortifying our souls sacramentally as golden as in each earthly pledge we follow through; we do find that this fresh growth of virtue within our hearts, is not our doing but Yours, and “this single shoot” of a vertical horizon, without any horizontal and societal outgrowth to speak of—this single shoot held up towards God alone from the stump of Jesse—that “Giving Tree” cut down in its body to survive in purity of soul—that single shoot of a pure-hearted desire towards growth towards one Object alone—that single shoot shot down to yet live, finds that it does survive, and it does yet live, in the life of goodness that is only You (Isaiah 11:1, New American Bible Revised Edition).
And as the lion lays down with the lamb, and it “feeds on the grasses like an antelope in Your holy mountain, where none can be harmed,” this golden forest of furrowed away virtues, and spirits saved with this saving of You, in this soul where its God reigns His Kingdom rightly, and uncontested as with reverence all parts of us die to save and savor You; in these birth pains of growth spurts and spasms of new life, the sanctity of Your outpouring makes itself manifest (Isaiah 65:25, Authorized King James Version). And in this destiny where dryads prance as the unicorn plays, and the wolf is herded with the sheep as the leopard lays too with the oxen and calves unharmed—in this utopian dynasty and dressage of dressings, hammered away at by Isaiah in a perfection of prophecy set on You, the layers of textual depth and metaphorical meanings, in a textual treatment of healings, treaties, and treatises, all find their light in “the literal” in dressing that wound of Jeremiah, and that Zion our priestess in an immaculate heart, pierced to the core to protect us within her; our venerated Mustard Tree, born from that Seed, that Word planted in a pure heart that has filled out in her branches, to display God here and God there to protect these God’s beings, in her fullness of foliage and welcoming Way, in the fullness of time.
And this utopian era to be ushered in, is found on the forefront only of life’s long-waged battles, as the front line is the lifeline and the most direct current, carrying this electric love in the waterway of a new home a new life, a new way of being and experiencing what is, in this musk of white antlers of the stag in this swansong, that is an eternal matrix, and tunnel of love.
Title: “Image and Likeness: The Shadow is Cast, Line by Line, Stitch by Stitch”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this wonderful new day and for all the joy of Your quiet presence resting gently within me, as my soul declares to You that it is one within its Maker, as we as one reside together through the piece of You within my soul.
Please my Lords, through this Spirit of Christ and of holiness that lingers on in the darkness, casting shadows of its light, allow that we mightiest grasp that line between the light and the darkness, for that line towards which my will so bends, is the form itself that casts “in silhouette” its likeness; and the figure of the image that is cast as a shadow a reflection in light or dark, is the Man Himself I call my Maker, and the Great I AM shining through these lines that as if in iambic pentameter speak of love so true (Exodus 33:22-23, Authorized King James Version).
So let us grasp upon that form unseen, always lingering just above us and looming like a weave time’s ancient thread overhead; that form unseen but which we nonetheless intuit, by Your will as we conform ours to Yours, in trying to reach towards Your timeless truth. And like a dance as we move towards You, You move so slightly yet away, but fill the space between us as You lead us on, with these gifts and these tasks, and various objects of Your will, to gently reveal Yourself to us in so many ways, so that we may draw closer through this dance in discovering all the many routes to You, and ways in which to get to know You in this performance, of Thy will.
For as we look towards You with the eye of the soul, we can feel You stop just outside the line of sight, and then with perfect precision as we turn our focus not from Thee undaunted, You step back to within the periphery of our vision eyelevel, to gift us with the rightful Giver, of this gift of sight.
So in seeing Your shadows cast, beneath the light that carries them, as the dark-winged visages hide out just beneath the edge of the light, it is through the light that You cast them with Your figure like a statue, standing firm in the middle like a pillar of “beyond light.” And it is to this center we cling intuiting that crucial difference, and rightly discerned point of reference that divides the light from the dark; for this key this reference, and line that divides, is the same line that divides me from You.
And though You love all Your creation in sum, You are distinct from it and there is a line that divides, the Creator from His creatures in this world Your creation; for You are not in all things You’ve made, and there is a line where You leave off and the next thing begins. But we seek after You my LORD, and quiet Maker, speaking out in Your creation these words unsaid, and so You give us the tools we need to find You, and this fine line of discernment You drop into our lap.
The shadow’s edge, that tells light from dark, and the form that casts it that is more than just light, this beyond earthly light form and supernatural being, is the bridge and the border that holds these two as one. And as if in a “hypostatic union” this duality of forces, come together only in this one thing their common feature, of a One God over all of them and the source of their difference as that Truth itself Who decides us in trying our hearts, and Who pulls us into Him as we look beyond His creatures, and this creation, as we all like a shadow cast, “in His image and likeness,” come from Him, and to Him in looking we shall return (Genesis 1:26-27, Authorized King James Version).
For this body always ventures towards that which it sees in its heart, and with a steady landed focus upon a vision beyond true, as its Maker and Determinant and Source of all Truth, we land upon “the Light” and beyond mere light, in a form and a figure, of a supernatural substance, “fleshed out” like the body of a Risen Christ, and like a hand pierced through with a crucifixion nail, proven and prized as tried and true.
And as like blind rats bumping into walls, are these souls in finding their new eyesight in the dark; for the darkness to the mortal flesh, is the training ground upon which on our true legs we stand, and the dancer’s stage upon which our truest Partner is beheld, as like with a dress rehearsal of a new sort of show, we see with incorruption what incorruptibility can bestow. And we see too in this truth beyond light, that form and figure beyond its creation, and that form from which the shadow is cast.
And as we lay upon this line of discernment, and pull it into ourselves stitch by stitch, line by line it stitches itself back into us, as only by action on both sides of this dividing line, by mutual action by both parties, creature and Creator, as if in a mirror by our correspondence to each other and confluence of wills; only through a mirror image of action, meeting mine with Yours, can these two sides come together over our dividing line, and can these two sides be as one, as we stare our Creator unseen, “pointe-blank” straight in the face.
“…For their angels in heaven shall always behold the face of the Father” (Matthew 18:10, New American Bible Revised Edition).
Title: “The ‘Check Engine Light’ of a Sacramental Life”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this lovely new morning and for all the bliss and pain, sorrow and anguish, and joy and gratitude of Your most respectfully welcomed and sorely appreciated presence here with me now, both within my soul and within Your own, my God imminent and transcendent, on Earth as it is in Heaven.
Please my Lords, in this lovely new day of a lovely new sequence in Your equation, that is the formula of faith in charity and lovingkindness, wrought in the inward hearts and outward lives led of all Your followers in truth and in conscience, grant us Peace.
And as we follow the series and sequence in good orderly fashion, all according to Your will and in line with Your decree, let us take in the marvel and mystery of these parts of You we solve for, and solutions that we seek, as like an x standing in for the part left unknown, we reach for that underlying this symbol, this placeholder, and this “saltire form of a cross,” as we intuit You far beneath it as it stands in for You as You stand in its place.
And as like in this equation, where we “solve for x,” so too in this life do we “solve for the cross,” and sacramentally we see You in that cross, just beyond, as our eyes fill in the parts of a closely held crucifix, to connect the dots interiorly and bring You back in just where You leave off. In fine, we see a cross and provide You upon it with the images of our own mind, to provide the missing pieces and read between the lines, connecting this Earth with You as Heaven, and the material with the spiritual, through the workings of imagining, of the mind, and this attitude hell-bent on faith and “the Faith.”
And like in this equation of “solve for x,” the missing piece is always somehow a cross to bear, and the missing piece always shines through bearing You as we bear the cross. And so in this way, sacramentally we live, with each little sign and wonder filled with grace only as we allow these parts of mundane life indeed, to remind us of You; thus catapulting us, as it were, via this sacrament, this attitude, this vision supplied by a mind attuned to faith, and prepped and prepared to see with inner eyes the Unseen—thus catapulting us, as it were, into this spiritual dimension that is the great abyss and beyond, of a life properly redirected into the soul and within, by these markers and milestones of sacramentals, and signs of You.
And as like in our vessels of the Spirit and heart valves of Ruach Elohim, we use the signs to soothe our souls in interpreting these indicators for growth and change in our life led within, in that Kingdom of the Spirit lived in this life with the mind fixed on You.
And as like when viewing on these vessels, these vehicles of Thy will, a lamp turn on, that is the “check engine light,” we don’t fix the “malfunction indicator lamp” by kicking out the Light, but we use it rather to redirect our energies within, as we fix the engine and not just the lamp, as the sign of the malfunction, shown by the Light. And as our wills finely-tuned to Thy will in Thy sight, are now check and “aligned,” if you will, with our Mechanic, with You, we can then “proceed to the route” that is the root of charity, in this “stump of Jesse” as defined by You.
All this life is sacramental, as we check our engines and the motivations in our hearts, and tune our wills fondly in swift speed and momentum, running with the fuel that fire of true love for and from You. And with these engines purring and machines roaring like lions, we lift up our hearts and offer them to You, as in jet streams You find us, losing our selves, doing donuts in airspace in Heaven, and “blowing off steam,” in exhaust and exhilaration, with and within You.
The Assignment: Just pump out any old bulls–t and leave it on my desk. Ok great, thanks.
(…There’s always a certain rhythm to what “comes from the heart,” and because this one is good, even my “bulls–t” is true.)
Title: “The Great White Lie of a Shark and the Seraphim’s Tooth”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this lovely new day and for all the pain and anguish, joy and sorrow, anger and justice, and bliss and peace, that are all a part of this whirlwind of emotion and the common ground of “the human experience,” when experienced in truth, in the heart, and in the extreme, as life at its fullest.
So please my Lords, as we sidestep those sidewinders of vipers and pits, let us deign not to walk in the designs and devices of man, but to walk alone—that is, like Enoch, to walk with You, so that we shall not be found among the unfaithful and untrue, in these deviants from Your Path and the Word of the conscience, and so that we shall not be found “wanting”; after the unclean desires of an unclean heart, or in the scales of Your justice, as You measure us against Your standards of decency and goodness, and we measure up, for we are right and true.
And my Lords, as we would sooner die than give in to the ways of sin, and sooner die than to be a party amongst evildoers who have no part in You, let us step out with faith and courage, bolstered by prudence and banistered by temperance, so that in this patience and endurance of a willing participant of Thy will, and a willing victim to expose the deceit of all just to see You, we may continue on in Thy Way. For “a lamp lit with Jesus is to be set upon the nightstand, and not hidden under a bushel,” and “there is nothing that is now kept secret that shall not be revealed,” in the fullness of time, as You lay waste to all the darkness of sin and deceit in bringing it into the Light, where like a vampire in the sun’s rays, these sinful secrets wither and crumble; like the one stone upon another of our Jerusalem Temple, that in the retribution of a Prophet’s tongue, shall not be left standing one upon another, but shall all be cast down to be recast in a furnace, and filled with My Spirit Who is God’s only Truth.
And as we, dripping with the heavy breath of Your new anointing, as like kerosene in these waters, of the living flame, do take in our reserves of energy like an army, to conquer that darkness and wash it away, we exude and exhale in the Light this strange smokescreen, and as if in the cloud cover of a Red Sea crossing, we lay into the point of division and siege with an onslaught the drought with this draft, and we pull into our billowing columns of alabaster and soapstone these secrets these sins, until they are absorbed by the Light.
And in this spongy likeness in form, feature and image, as the Sun sinks in and sinks in His teeth, these rows and “rows” of pews and church benches, hedge and hem in these congregants of a nation like “a New Israel” in the fuller’s fire, now brought out and exhumed, tried and true. And this Great White Shark Who swims with the fishes, a Sheep in wolf’s clothing and a Shepherd of what’s true, in His rows of shark’s teeth, He lays into the little guy, to make way and make room in this Cathedral “a Path through the wilderness”; as a big Fish in a little pond takes air in bridging the breach of the New Covenant, and in becoming the breach becoming the Bridge; from our land to Yours, and from our solitude, to a Great White Shark and a Seraphim’s tooth.
Title: “John the Baptist and Imitation of Christ: The Voice that Crieth in the Wilderness, and ‘the Greatest of Saints’”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this lovely new day of rest and peace in You; while “in the world we will have trouble,” we shall not fear nor be too downcast in Spirit, for You have overcome the world.
Please my Lords, in this new day of a new trek into the unknown of the soul through our experience in “the sacramental life” here on Earth, let us delve deeply, and never turn back. For in this process of growing with and in You, in Spirit, in faith, in hope and in grace, “that Rubicon we cross,” that point of no turning back, is crossed once in our hearts as we make our trek inward, but is then crossed once more each new day, as we set our sights of the soul upon You.
So with no duplicity of mind, nor hypocrisy in our actions when compared with the thoughts of our heart, nor with any short-lived efforts towards mediocrity in short-sighted goals—short-sighted in that they fall short of You—let us forge on ahead through that valley of conversion, that valley of decision, that valley of metanoia and contrition, and the shadow of death; let us forge on ahead as we delve deep within our hearts, and enter into the soul, and then find our perfect center in the soul that is within Your Spirit and within You.
Let us make our choice and decision each morning, and cross over that Rubicon as like a line drawn in the sand, that the prince of this world says, “thou shalt not cross,” but which the God of our hearts—King of Kings, Lord of Lords, God of salvation, Prince of Peace—our LORD YHWH echoed in Christ Jesus, and then echoed again in this heart all Three, commands to be crossed, in an entreaty, an ensign; to set that beacon upon a hill, that Light high atop the soul, and that battle line drawn, that separates Your realm from the worldly realm, and sanctity from sin—to set that battle line that Rubicon exactly where it belongs, exacting justice with exactness, and precision to a pinpoint, as we all drop what we’re doing when called to renew our choice and cross that line, in an instant and without hesitation, to firmly plant our footing within the side of the Holy Spirit and within that spiritual groundedness, that is the reality of You.
So with battle lines drawn, we make our choice, we bear our cross, and we cross this Rubicon in making our crossing; and crossing ourselves with a blessing for peace, we remain on our side and stick close to the conscience, enlivening the Spirit and enervating our body’s tendency towards sin, in its own instincts if separated and apart from You, through our ascetic practices and mortification of these human wants and pleasures, in its bodily comforts and satisfactions.
For we find that this most sacred and valuable tool in the art of truthful living, that is a life in purpose and beyond the bounds of this world, in bearing beyond that Rubicon in virtue, in this life lived in You, is this watchful art of self-denial, that is the cornerstone of “saintly living” if we wish to vivify our souls by crucifying our bodies, led by their head the ego, who as this “self” to be denied, so opposes You. And as we this self, recede into the soul in the prayer of recollection, and align with the Spirit in aligning with holiness to You, we choose our side as in tune with Your sanctity, and on the side of the Spirit we oppose the world and our egos, from beyond the cross, and the crossing of the Rubicon and the crossing of our hearts, as hoping to die to ourselves, we are yet alive—alive as like a resurrected body, in line with its true Head, and its heart and in Christ—alive in You.
“He must become greater, I must become less; there must be more of Him and less of me,” says the Voice, that crieth in the wilderness (John 3:30, New American Bible Revised Edition).
“Beware, then, my son, of spending your time delving into matters like that, matters which outstrip your understanding; if you want an occupation and something to aim at, let it be an endeavor to be reckoned among the least in the kingdom of God. Even if anyone did know which Saints were holier than the others, or who was accounted greatest in the kingdom of heaven, what good would that knowledge do him, unless it made him humbler in my sight and caused him to rise from his knees to give greater glory to my name?” (Thomas à Kempis, Imitation of Christ, p. 214).
“A lot of people want to know who is greatest in the kingdom of God, even though they don’t know whether they themselves will ever be worthy to be counted among the least there. It is a great thing even to be among the least in heaven, where all are great; because all there shall be called, and shall really be, the children of God” (Thomas à Kempis, Imitation of Christ, p. 215).
“Of old that blessed forerunner of yours, John the Baptist, highest among the Saints, filled with gladness at your presence, leaped for joy of the Holy Spirit while still in the shelter of his mother’s womb. In after years, when he saw Jesus walking among men, in utter abasement he said with loving devotion: The bridegroom’s friend, who stands by and listens to him, rejoices too, rejoices at hearing the bridegrooms voice. So it is with me: I long to be afire with great and holy desires, and with all my heart to offer you myself” (Thomas à Kempis, Imitation of Christ, p. 257).
Title: “The Golden Harp of the Psalmist King David, and the Microphone Mike of an Archangel gets Tuned”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this wonderful new day of a wonderful new awakening, to Thy truth and to Thy light, in both the depths of my soul and upon the surface of Your reflection, in this, Your image and likeness, shining and glimmering like ripples across the surface of the water as the Sun’s rays catch its movement.
Please my Lords, in this morning of a new beginning and a new start within as we head out to You from the soul’s crevice of our own hideaways in this terrain of spiritual land, let us embark upon that ark, that cross and that ship, and stretch out our toes as we stretch out our horizons, into this foreign land of Your abyss as we dip our feet into the deep, to test the waters and to stretch out our comfort zones, so that they are as borderless and as infinite as Thy boundless peace.
And in this infinite mercy that is the unknown known only by faith, and not at all through the intellect or by human designs, let us make of it what You are as we rest in our beliefs, and our certainty sustains us like the “sureness” of the seashore. And surefootedly we step out, as You oversee our awakening, in an epiphany or revelation like an eye-opening visitation each morning, to be revisited with the Earth’s orbit, around this Son, as we mark out our territory and put it to bed, only to set out once more to broaden our shorelines as we broaden our vision, with an eyesight endowed with the gift of You.
And so as we purvey and purview, and part our Red Sea with our hairline, in this trek and crossing over, from our land to Yours, we bring with us our virtues and leave behind us our sins; as after the fashion of the signs of the times, this ship of Noah and mercy seat of the soul, we uplift like a palanquin as we uphold our hearts only as far as they contain thoughts of You.
And outstretched and outreached in this grasp of the soul’s faith, as we encircle and encamp far across Jordan’s sound, these trumpets and altar horns, both bleat out their whispers, as sprayed with hyssop in a painter’s brush, the Son splashes His breathlessness in a horn blown too long.
And like David with timbrels and tambourines and our harps, we steady the footsteps as in Spirit we dance, to the dismay of none but the naysayers in their forsaking of God. And on these coattails of Moses and Joshua and David, and Noah with Jonah somewhere swallowed in the abyss, these outskirts of the Fatherland are drawn in and drawn upon, as from Truth’s own mouthpiece and “Mike” like that of a princely archangel, this question like the limbs of a limber doll is posed: “How do you praise the Lord and play such beautiful music, O guitar and instrument of the Lord?” And the guitar beats back in its bassline without missing a beat, “I don’t!” For to ask a heart how it prays its music, is to ask a guitar how it plays its song. It is not I who plays it for I am but a guitar! It is the Musician Who plays me and my God Who in me prays. As a finely-tuned instrument, a heart or a lyre, built to sing and to give praise to the Lord, does not play its music, but it is my God Who plays me, as I must just stay focused to keep my heart very pure and clear.
So this mouthpiece gets tested by another microphone “Mike,” and from angel to angel, from my lips to yours, emerges this reed from upon the mouthpiece, of a wind instrument, which she then pulls out of her mouth and holds between her fingers, as I pick it up fondly and pocket it with my picks. “I think You left this in my mouth,” she says, wiping off her smeared lipstick and licking her lips. And so I just smile to conceal my laugh, and then pickpocket her as I walk away. Let’s make off, let’s make out, let’s make love, and let’s do. Let’s do and let’s do it, all over again. And as it is written, it is done.
Title: “Damned that Way: Frozen in Stone”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this lovely new day and for all the pain and sadness, joy and bliss, anger and fury, and balance and equilibrium harmonized with such melodious variations and varieties of pitch and frequency, and irony and laughter, in this storm of tumult and emotion that is living “a less-than-ordinary life,” in the heart and in all honesty, and on the front lines of the struggles of this world.
Please my Lords, as we do remain in our souls and in Spirit as we go through this sacramental life, lived in and through and for You as we perceive You in all things and use all materials only to remind us in some way of You, let us accumulate not wealth or power or prestige on this Earth, in whatever forms of social desirability this wealth takes, in the language of this nation’s “cultural currency,” but let us rather accumulate virtue in our souls, as we amass a great deposit of faith and patient endurance in these stockhouses of our hearts and eternal homes of spiritual substance, to be enjoyed in the hereafter, after we have worked tirelessly to build them up while we still have the chance to, while we are here on Earth.
And as we can only work for our soul’s position, be it in Heaven or Hell, or closer to You or further away in the high ranks of Your heavenly fortress and eternal mansion, while we are still here on this Earth, let us welcome each and every struggle as a golden opportunity to fortify our wealth in the virtues as a further and grander new asset of solid gold, as it is this wealth of our patience, integrity, fortitude, kindness, good will expressed with prudence and self-control, charitable dispositions, unrelenting insistence upon justice and truth, willingness to forgive faults atoned for, and priority given to mercy when all things are considered, that gives real value to our souls, in this careful balance and tempering of these virtues, that all fit together in this soul like the kernels of a pinecone or the petals of a flower blossom.
And as we do know, that the state our soul has attained to is unalterable after the moment of our death, in receiving its glory in You or its misery in its sin that is the rejection of You, in Your desires for us, and Your ways professed through Your Son Jesus, One God, let us be careful to do all our work towards a saintly position firmly planted in Your beneficence while we still have the chance. For as like a creature frozen in stone the moment a Gorgon Medusa stares in its direction, are these souls of ours the moment Your angel of death cuts us down with Your sickle for the harvest and the rapture. Whatever state we are left in at the moment of our death, is indeed a permanent inheritance, to be received by us as our punishment or reward in the beginning of true life, after the trial round of material life in this world, during which we can work to advance towards a more desirable and hard-earned place in Heaven.
So let us not die unconfessed of our sins, and turned away from You towards unrepented-of transgression and this implicit in that attitude, a forsaking of You, but let us rather remain wholeheartedly turned toward the Light, to be one and the same with the Light, that we do so love and desire, “racking up bonus points” for our souls in Heaven for each goodly intention to convert a wayward brother, or an erring sinner of bastard child of another father. And let us build up our souls in our goodly actions and well-wishes that all should turn away from the father of deceit, in their lies and their wrongdoing, to gain Your glory and find open a seat for them still, in Heaven while they still have the chance here on Earth to change their ways, admit their crimes, and right their wrongs. Let them change their facing and turn towards the Light while they still have the chance, lest the LORD above be obliged to rebuke them of the state of their souls, like a naughty child making faces in mocking his elders; “If you keep making that face, eventually it will stay that way,” and if you keep facing away from Me, eventually you’ll be damned that way.
Title: “The Eye of the Storm atop the Pyramid: Come Holy Spirit, on the ‘Dolla Dolla Bill Y’All’”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this wonderful new morning of Thy grace and peace, which, like the calm before the storm or the dark before the dawn, pulls us in so fluidly and faithfully to our center of balance and place of peace, which is that peace born in “the eye of the storm,” and that Prince of Peace found by counterbalancing a state of chaos or distress, with an “internal locus of control” that is our soul’s opposition to these troubles of the world, and our Spirit in and of You, hovering above those waters of Your creation, in the midst of which we find, our truest need, for You.
Please my Lords, as we hover in a delicate balance in this suspension of our soul in Your Spirit, in this perfect center and eye of the storm that cannot be found without testing the limits and repelling off that storm itself, as we draw our boundaries and define our lines, let us swim with patience until that moment, when like the “clicking” together of two magnets, once they draw close enough together, this soul “pops” into place in that perfect center, that is like that last stone to be edged into its place at the top of a pyramid.
And as we find our place in You, and balance so delicately atop that pyramid, as like a magnet balancing in levitation when placed perfectly atop another magnet with their two like poles facing together, let us draw all our energies and reserves from this perfect center and source of a “new gravity,” as while we orbit around You and from You find our pull, we do indeed out of necessity gravitate towards those things that are like You and that also bear this quality of our center, Your Spirit, which draws us in so.
For as we know our true LORD and Master, we know too those that are of our Lord and those that are not, granted that vast margin of error that is the storm and waters of man or emotional chaos, into which any of us may fall, interiorly, at any given moment—but even despite this room for fluctuations and variability, overall, we know when one is in Your Spirit and when one is not, and so we do gauge our actions accordingly.
For just as in times of plenty we give to the needy wanderer of our abundance, so too in times of famine, we keep what we have to ourselves and venture not far from our life source and precious reserves of provisions made scant. And so too, in times of spiritual prosperity, we venture out in a mission of charity to share what we have with the needy, not drawing them into us with our spiritual reserves—no far from it, for that would be encouraging a false sort of dependence on man instead of on God, and a spiritual sense of the sin of “surety,” whereby we lead them to rely on us. No far from it, but as we venture out from our safe place in the eye of the Lord to share our provisions of wisdom, we direct our needy countrymen in this terrain of creation, back to within their own souls, to find as we have found, that Holy Spirit within and the precious substance of wisdom, and show them just how to get there in knowing which obstacles to overcome.
And in these missions which we very graciously shall demur to undertake when not in a place of great security ourselves, in taking care not to lose that which we do have when it is so very valuable, and it is so easily lost, we do count ourselves doubly the richer, when we can see a soul in trouble, and say—again, not I, but “it is Your Holy Spirit Who speaks within me”—when we can say just the right thing to see to it that that soul picks itself up and places it right back in its center, aloft the storm and the Temple, this Pyramid and pyre, in Your levitating “eye of the storm,” eye of understanding, Eye of Providence, and perfect center, of the Holy Spirit (Matthew 10:20, Authorized King James Version).
Title: “The New Genesis and Sonic Speed: A Bonus Round of Infinite Halos”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this lovely new day and for all the grace of Your presence with which You so benevolently bless me, in each new day so that it may be a new step and advancement closer to You, in this Thy will, bound on Earth as it is in Heaven.
Please my Lords, as we do embark on a new day well within the bounds of Thy will, and bound like an oath to Your Path and say in things, let us breathe in the crisp, fresh air of a decisive commitment to our work in You, for any work done in and for the LORD is time well spent as we know that we labor not in vain, alongside the precepts of this Church, as we labor for the unseen in faith, and for that holiness and sanctity that assures us of our eternal salvation as we have our hearts placed in You.
And so as we do labor on in this day, fully aware that we shall reap no benefits without exerting our best efforts, and that we shall harvest no rewards if we do not pay our dues, dirty our hands with the plow or the pen, and refuse to turn back to the troubles of the world over the struggles toward the Kingdom, once we have “put our hands upon the plow,” to sow and reap Your seed, which is the Word of Christ, we do forge on ahead into this day, that is to delve deeper into Your heart and into our souls (Luke 9:62, Authorized King James Version).
And as we do lower ourselves in humility to make ourselves acceptable in Your sight, and bend our wills to meet the demands of the Way You have set out before us, conforming our hearts in virtue and discipline to the “love of Christ that constraineth us,” we do find ourselves changed, and as if “in the twinkling of an eye,” transformed in You (2 Corinthians 5:14; 1 Corinthians 15:51-52, Authorized King James Version).
And “knowing You now as You are,” as You do so lend us the tunic off Your back along with Your shoes to “walk that extra mile in,” we do know You, “for You are like us,” as we do so bend ourselves to meet You in Your best light and in the truth that is living up to God’s own standards, that is the life of Jesus enkindled in that flame of love, that is the life of the Spirit within as we “die to the flesh” without (1 John 3:2; Matthew 5:40-41; Romans 8:13, Authorized King James Version).
And as we do see You only in the truth which You Yourself, through Your Word in Scripture and in the gospel, have planted in our heart, we know too that “all things work for good for those who trust in the Lord,” and so we rest assured in our hope and faith and love of You, knowing that we adhere to this objective and irrefutable Truth, even when we are at a loss in the world, as all sides of another story take a turn for the worse, as they turn in to their own interest and claims to honor at stake (Romans 8:28, New American Bible Revised Edition).
And as we do deign not to turn from You even as we do so turn away from the unfaithfulness of man, we count ourselves twice the richer and doubly the better off for each shackle and chain of “dead weight” and an unprofitable servant or untrustworthy friend that we shed in this pruning of branches, and uprooting from the good soil of these evil offshoots, which have not grafted themselves onto the True Vine in good time.
But even as we know that these broken links in the chain of a Church, a community, and an assembly of believers, as God’s children and devout followers of His Law and Commandments—even as we know that these broken links in a chain of hypocrisy do indeed do us a disservice, we do oblige You to maintain them in Your circle, as Your will and our charity of grace. For we know that these troubles and scoundrels who profess belief and then deny You in deed—who make a wrong turn in sin but then keep coming back again and again—are like a “bonus round” for our souls where we may just keep running through the round to gather in the rings, or “silver drachmas,” and rack up bonus points for our homes in Heaven as if in a video game of a “Sega Genesis,” to prefigure our “regeneration” in the world to come in Heaven (Luke 15:3-10, New American Bible Revised Edition).
And as we never tire of these “bonus rounds,” which we speed through “true blue” like “Sonic,” as like endless tunnels of resources of “free conversion points” for “our willingness to forgive” and our good will towards another, we shall never cease to accumulate these bonus points of a saint’s extra credit work, in pounding that button and keeping a new high score ever on our horizons, as these opportunities for such conversions of those who want to believe, are such endless resources for accumulating wealth in the soul’s virtue as are these windfalls of golden coins or golden rings in a bonus round hidden level of a child’s video game, which oddly enough, resemble those halos, that in willing for others we shall earn for our own souls, in “willing the good of another” in this, God’s love (Matthew 18:21-35, Authorized King James Version).
Title: “The Look of a Contemplative, the Taste Test of a Chef: Experiencing the Spirit Within and Chef John the Baptist Serves up, on a Silver Platter, a Foretaste and Foreknowledge of the Things to Come”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this lovely new day and for all the bliss of awakening more deeply into You, just before we depart the confines of safety and seclusion that is this sleep, and join the ranks among our fellow travelers to the eternal Kingdom, and servants of You our God.
Please my Lords, in this fresh new day that may be the manifestation of a fresh new attitude, and in this renewal of hope that is the renewal of our spirits in the life that is You, allow that we may venture not far from this safe, neutral state of emptiness, and this space that regenerates all anew in these “living waters” as if of baptism, that absorb us and immerse us in their glowing, divine superabundance of grace (John 4:10, New American Bible Revised Edition). And as we immerse ourselves in our soul, and our soul in Your Spirit, and Your Spirit in Your world and breath of life, let us claim our reemergence in that emergent stalk and shoot, and staff and rod, that is Your Tree of Life, lush and fertile in verdant aliveness, and Your Cross of Christ, flourishing in this thriving landscape of spiritual prosperity.
And so as we claim the life that is ours in offering ourselves up to You, plucked out of the earth and transplanted in the soul, in the Spirit, we supplant that head, the prince of this world, or the ego of this body, of vanity and the falseness of pride set in man—we supplant that head with our true Head, of Christ, as with Jesus in the Godhead our new life too claims us, and “we are one with the Lord as He is one with the LORD,” and we are within Him in mutuality and the bliss of true love—that for however briefly, forgets all pain in its memory, in forgiveness, and in the hope of things to come (John 10:29-30; 14:10-11; 17:21-23, Authorized King James Version).
And as we do die to self to be alive in our Lord, and as we do claim caput! to our own heads to be a member of the true Head, in the Body, our Church, and our gathering of believers, we do find that we act with the patience of providential care, and the fortitude of a fasting monk, with the fastness of a solid footing planted squarely in our center, and the quickness of a quickening Spirit, in this quiet little way, of blazing brazenly through all the actions of the world with these fires of the heart, enkindled brightly and burning with all the brilliance of that “lamp set on a nightstand,” or the “ensign and beacon set on a hill” (Matthew 5:15-16, New American Bible Revised Edition; Isaiah 30:17, Authorized King James Version).
And as we do receive a foretaste of that sweetness O Mary, with our prescient priority and foreknowledge of our life in You—as we do receive a foretaste, O agapē, of that beneficent delight of blessedness, of beatitude, in the world to come, we do close our eyes to the world and look within, with our souls, to the life of the Spirit, set within stone like the blade of an Excalibur, or the etchings by Your finger of the Ten Commandments soon to break, with the fragility of these erring hearts. We do look within to find that sacredness and immaculate purity, that is limitless and already ever-broken, to spill open its contents like a treasure chest, like a fountain of youth, its contents in charity: this, our lifeblood, given freely out to you.
And as we do look within, we just have that look, as like a chef tasting with thoughtfulness the flavor of his new dish, of experiencing not with the vision of the eyes, but savoring and beholding with a whole other sense this “salt within,” and this succulence and savor, through the soul’s sense, of its Spirit, with a new taste acquired through the cross and through hardship, and through a solid distaste for the pleasures of the body and of the world—through this new taste acquired for this purest of flavors, that fire that burns, of the Spirit within (Mark 9:49-50, Authorized King James Version).
And Chef John the Baptist himself delivers up, “on a silver platter,” this bread of life and food for the soul. “Dinner, in communion, and in the Spirit, is served.”
Title: “Apologetics, and Polemics for a Pharisee: You Can Dish it out, but Can You Take It?
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this lovely new day of rest and peace in You as we go through life endeavoring always to “remain in You and be absent to the world, or the comforts of the flesh,” that are so characteristic of resting in the body, and not in the Spirit, that is, in You (2 Corinthians 5:6-8, Authorized King James Version).
Please my Lords, as we do so strive to be “in the world but not of the world,” and to “find our rest only in You,” please grant that we may deviate not from our commitment to our good choices, and depart not from the path of righteousness that You have set before us, as it is pleasing and acceptable to You that we should adhere to these few simple tenets, and add nothing to this ordinance of the heart that is not Yours, lest we should tie loads upon our shoulders that amount to burdens we cannot carry, and intentions for purposeful living that are not what You had in mind. Let us, in our plans, privations, prayers, and pastimes, give You praise in all things, and merely use these things, and actions, and practices, and activities of the mind as well as the body, only to draw closer to You in our hearts, and set our desires in purity upon the things of the Kingdom of Heaven, and the things of the Spirit and of virtue in this life, as we aim unhindered and unobstructed, wholeheartedly towards “divine union” with You.
And as we do undertake not to carry out orders that are not Yours, nor to overburden our poor souls with unbearable loads, let us too endeavor not to add to these lamentable woes of these signs of the times, and “strain at gnats while swallowing camels whole,” or “block off the entryways which some refuse to enter, in seeing to it that no one else is granted access to this gate of righteousness either” (Matthew 23:24, 13, Authorized King James Version).
For it is so very characteristic of the self-righteous, and not the righteous of the LORD, to pore over that which needs no explanation and then “swallow a camel whole” in bypassing entirely “a hard saying,” and refusing to attend to, and attempt to understand, or to be able to honestly explain, the more difficult passages of Scripture, or the more troubling and challenging problems in life (John 6:60, New American Bible Revised Edition). And it is too so much the easier, in the way of hypocrisy rather that in “The Way of Perfection,” to get in the way of that perfection in the lives of these disciples or students, who would deign to “enter by the strait and narrow” were it not for some with your inferior examples, misleading the general public into sin in condoning, either explicitly or implicitly, by your words or your own actions, actions, deeds, and behaviors that are habits of deceit, that deny the Faith in principle, in precept, and in the priorities revealed in your lying hearts (Matthew 7:13-14, Authorized King James Version).
And it is so characteristic of these lying Pharisees, “to tie up bundles, and requests, and orders, and demands, which cannot be lifted by the virtues of their own souls, but which they will not hesitate to impose upon another,” just to enjoy their pride as the willing student collapses over the inordinate extra weight of these hefty designs of man (Matthew 23:4, New American Bible Revised Edition).
And so, “woe to you,” you hypocrites and blind guides. For having twenty years under your master’s belt, “and broadened phylacteries,” of experience in the Faith, does not speak to your credit when it is experience of failure to live up to the commands, or even the lightest of loads of honesty and common decency to your neighbor of mankind (Matthew 23:5, Authorized King James Version). Having had, for example, plenty of experience at marriage, in having had six wives, does not speak to your credit or lend to your experience at marriage, for it is experience in failing at marriage, and not in its fruitfulness. And so, woe to you, you Pharisees and blind guides, who will “strain at a gnat and swallow a camel whole,” and who claim seniority by way of years of experience, when it is experience of failure that should rob you of your credentials, rather than experience of success, which should speak to your credit.
So you Pharisees, you hypocrites, and “cradle-bound” infants and pride-blinded blind guides, when you start to follow the ways of the Lord, in your heart as well as in your actions, then perhaps your so-called “experience” can speak to your credit. You say you’ve been Christian all your life? But then why am I still waiting for you to start being an actual Christian? “Ignorance of the Scriptures, is ignorance of the Lord,” and some of the worst sins of the world have been brought about by this culpable sin of willful ignorance, of the Word of God that is writ in every Bible, and “hidden like a light under a bushel” in the bedside table drawer of any wayfaring wanderer’s “Motel-6,” which is the equivalent of this “world of sin” in comparison to the Kingdom that awaits the true pilgrims of “The City of God,” in the world of Heaven still to come (Catechism of the Catholic Church, paragraph 113, p. 43; Matthew 5:14-15, New American Bible Revised Edition).
Title: “The Circulatory System of the Sacred Heart of Jesus”
Alt. Title: “A Holy Ghost Story: The Disembodied Hand of the Banquet Hall and the Spirit of Truth”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this wonderful new day, and for all the blessings of Your presence with which You so generously comfort me, with this rest in You, and long-sought-after, long-labored-over, and hard-earned spiritual consolations, and spiritual delights, in this “abiding love” within Your rest.
Please my Lords, in this divine connection of our mutual trust in endeavoring to carry out Thy will, and in our interconnectivity in Communion and in communing over these communications of Your Scriptures and Your Word writ, and in these prayers of the heart from my soul to Yours, heart-to-Heart and head-to-Head, let us please enjoin all our worldly efforts of our body’s actions in You, to our spiritual efforts of our soul’s actions by You, so that in this perfect unity of these harmonized natures, of God and man, the body and soul thus enjoined with You by Spirit may too as a member complete in itself, in this greater Body under Your Head, the Church, be as fruitful in all its singular and solitary strivings for Your solace and the salvation of souls as may any other part or element of this greater Body, or this spiritual side of life, in Your grace.
And please my Lords, in this interconnectivity of body and soul, and of souls within Your Spirit in Your Body of believers, the Church, let us entwine our circuitry ever so gently into this vast circumference of Your heavenly origins, that as like a huge body in orbit that is Your macrosystem of a heavenly creation, revolves so neatly and so precisely around this center, Your Heart, and this center, my soul in me as I place my heart in Yours.
And as in this divine fathoming of Your divine footing in space, we not speciously nor erringly found our footsteps in doctrine, and in dogma, and decree, as it were, writ in stone, we feel Your lifeblood of Jesus and Your Sacrifice sustain us, like in a circulatory system, so systematic, and so breathtaking merely to be a part of, as much as it is to in all glory behold.
So from our mind’s eye like a jewel studded in Yours, we take in the expanse like an orphan visage, and we envelop this creation like an envelope to its love Letter. And set rightly askance in our views from our part, we defer our completeness, and our vision, to You. And in this Body of One, with its members all serving, to sustain the Head lest the tail “wag the dog,” we deign not to use up too much of our time, in taking up air and lifeblood that ought to filter back into You, in “running its full circuit,” and drawing back into its heart, its center, from these veins, and arteries, and organs, and members, that are enlivened by Your supply only enough to pass it back on to You (Psalm 19:2-6, Authorized King James Version). “My Word does not come back to Me unfulfilled, but like rainfall upon the earth, it accomplishes My will and brings back to Me its ripe harvest” (Isaiah 55:10-11, Authorized King James Version).
And so in this system, this Son, and this circulatory circuitry of Your ever-Sacred bleeding Heart, let our hands do Your bidding and our fingers point out the way. As our “mandibles too find a purpose” unwittingly, and “a hand, appearing in an unfaithful servant’s dining hall, as it etches for Daniel to translate in its most ominous homage,” speaks yet without speaking—Your time is up, O king of this world, and your table is turned, O banquet hall “of the moneychangers, in My Temple” (Judges 15:15-17; Daniel 5:5-7, 23-30; Matthew 21:12-17, New American Bible Revised Edition).
For all parts not serving the greater whole and leading back to the Head, My Son, shall be cut off and severed like this disembodied hand, as My Spirit weeps wintrily, in an interior night season, and My breeze proclaims speedily, “It is True.”
Title: “Vessels of Mercy, Fit for Wrath: A Brief Dialogue with St. Catherine of Siena”
(Description: A brief discourse on the punishment for sin and reward based on the effects of prayer and God’s forgiveness, and an explanation of mercy in light of God’s justice.)
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this lovely new day and for all the fresh growth and inspiration blossoming here with me, both within and without, as interiorly and all around me, as we do so make proper use of all these parts and tools here at our disposal, so that all thing should work to display the glory of God.
Please my Lords, as we do so reflect in kindness and compassion upon instances of past injustice we only do use these feelings of empathy, sympathy, pity, or mercy, to temper and season our adherence to Truth and our vigor for what is right, so that when all things are working with one accord, that is, according to Your will, we do offer forgiveness where it is needed, and we do offer correction where it is needed, never letting the one swallow the other whole, but playing out prudently their roles in Your salvation.
While it is true that receiving forgiveness, due to the state of mind and nature or absence of any contrition on the part of the guilty party—while it is true that receiving forgiveness does not absolve one from guilt, if it is Truth, as it stands it is true also, that in receiving forgiveness, while the sin may be forgiven, it still must receive its due recompense if that forgiveness is not earned by repentance and true contrition by the one in need of God’s forgiveness.
As is stated in The Dialogue by St. Catherine of Siena, “You ask me for suffering to atone for the offenses my creatures commit against me…. More particularly, I will pardon both sin and punishment in those who humbly and reverently accept the teaching of my servants…. But ordinarily I grant these others pardon of their sin only, not of its penalty. For they on their part are not disposed to receive my love and that of my servants with perfect love. Nor do they receive my servants’ grief with bitterness or perfect contrition for the sin they have committed, but receive it with imperfect love and contrition. For this reason, such as these receive no pardon of the penalty but only of the sin itself. For not only the giver but also the receiver must be rightly disposed. And if these others are imperfect, they receive only imperfectly the perfect desires of those who offer them with pain to me on their behalf” (The Dialogue, 1980, p. 29-31).
For as it is written, “we all must stand to face our judgment, and to be repaid according to our deeds” (Matthew 16:27, New American Bible Revised Edition). For one who has not “conformed one’s heart to be a vessel to take on God’s mercy, shall indeed be a vessel fitted for wrath,” as while he may be forgiven at the behest of God’s faithful, he shall still receive his due punishment, and according to his deeds here on earth he will receive the just consequences in accord with an equitable outcome (Romans 9:21-26, Authorized King James Version).
He is forgiven, yet without contrition, he shall receive his just punishment of eternal damnation. So too are there those who are guilty of sin and of horrible wrongs yet cling to God’s mercy in the willingness of their hearts and with the good works of their charitable actions in acting upon His mercy, and they shall escape the condemnation of eternal death, though they shall due to their imperfections receive purgatory rather than a just reward of eternal life in heaven, as a “just” reward of “just” goodness.
As is further expounded upon in The Dialogue by St. Catherine of Siena, “Their hatred is such that they can neither will nor desire anything good, but are forever cursing me….By the same principle, those just souls who end in loving charity are bound by love and can no longer grow in virtue once time has passed…. Their desires are a continual cry to me for the salvation of others…They are so conformed to my will that they can will only what I will…. To the damned he will appear with just hatred, but to the saved, with mercy and love…. These souls wait for divine judgment with gladness, not fear…. The others, in contrast, hold to falsehood, which gives them the water of death….and because they come to the point of death under this perverse rule, they can expect no other judgment but that of their own conscience. They come without hope to eternal damnation….There are others who have passed through life and arrive at the end point of death with only a commonplace love, and were never very perfect….But these have this light imperfectly, and because they are imperfect they reach out for mercy, considering my mercy greater than their own guilt. Wicked sinners, on the other hand, do the opposite. When in despair they see their place, they embrace it in hate…. the damned in hate and despair; the perfect in love, with the light of faith and trusting in the blood. And the imperfect in mercy and with the same faith, come to that place called purgatory” (The Dialogue, 1980, p. 82-89).
And so as we see how these vessels of the soul may be individually fitted for mercy or for wrath, and how all our prayers for the evildoer cannot save him from punishment without an act of the will on his own part, to conform himself in contrition to “repentance”—to feel guilt and to mourn his sins and the harm he has caused—we do see too how a guilty party may amend his conscience and change his ways, and to some extent atone for his damage of sin committed in this life and thereby escape a punishment of eternal death.
For merely our prayers alone cannot bring a vessel of wrath unto mercy, if that vessel himself is unwilling to bear the load, “and the LORD our God shall not be made the fool of,” by those who by “presumptuous sin” expect to get off scot-free without receiving some extent of justice for the evil they committed, as this much is for certain: when He comes, “we shall be like Him, because we shall see Him as He is,” because as having come to perfection we shall have “plucked out the beam from within our own eye,” and when He comes, “He shall repay each according to their deeds, be they evil or be they good” (Galatians 6:7-10, Authorized King James Version; Catechism of the Catholic Church, 1994, 1997, paragraph 2091-92, p. 563; 1 John 3:2; Matthew 7:3-5; 16:27, Authorized King James Version).
For God shall not be made a fool of, and as mercy shall soften the blow of His justice, it shall by no means replace it in some fool’s deluded notion of God’s perfect forgiveness. For God is perfect in justice and in mercy, and to think that one can sin without punishment, is to disrespect justice and to dishonor God. Such a one may, in fact, receive both forgiveness, and His wrath in punishment, as He wills in His love for us that we receive our due, and thereby become as equitable and acceptable in His eyes.
Title: “A Telescopic Vision and the ‘Telos’ of the Trinitarian God”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this lovely new day and for all the wonderful gifts of Your presence with which You so continually bless me, as with grace, forbearance, and mercy, we endeavor each new day to take appropriate care with these provisions You have set at our disposal.
Please, my Lords, in this grace that is Your divine favor or mercy, let us recall all of our soul’s faculties into one, and all as one let us gather into You, as in this prayer of recollection, we recall with a sense of prudence and of balance, all of Your wonderful works in our lives alongside the errors of pitfalls or tragedies, brought about by evil or human sin, so that with a well-rounded perspective and a more perfect sense of the bigger picture than the memory of any single event could provide alone, we may take in all aspects of a problem or situation at once, to temper the harshness of any criticism we might make, and to allow for multiple considerations at once, which is how we allow for both mercy and compassion, and judgment and criticism, or condemnation of action or attitudes, in the Spirit of fairness, justice, kindness, and equanimity.
So my Lords, as we do engage in this use of an observer’s bird’s-eye view in the consideration of our situation, let us allow for this abstractness of vision to grace too our contemplation of the situations of others, so that even where a somewhat harsh judgment might be due, we shall soften that blow to a less-than-honest conscience with a sense of pity or restraint, so that all our actions may be brought about ultimately by lovingkindness, even when justice and the condemnation of malice, deceit, envy, trickery, and other wicked ways are to be the end results of our observations, or the playing out of all sides of a story.
So my Lords, as we give thanks this day for the good along with the bad, and for these opportunities for growth and self-improvement along with these fruits of Your benefits, let us keep too this balanced perspective of good and bad, so that we shall not be caught off-guard nor thrown off-balance by an evil snag in a good design, or a good quality in a bad situation, and so that in this fully-fathomed encompassing of Your bigger picture, we may more easily let go of any one of the many minor details, for there shall be so many of them within the focus of our attention, that it shall be nearly impossible to zero-in on any one of them, as zoning-out, as it were, we let go of the specific to take on the general, and we deign not to settle our minds on any one idea or minor detail, but rather let our minds rise above and hover aloft the map and schema of a mind-frame, and the bigger picture that contains at once all facets of Your design.
So as we sacrifice and trade-in the particular and specific for the general and the overall, in absorbing a more vast, and complete, and balanced, and well-rounded scope of the world as it is beheld in You and Your will for us, please allow that we may balance this massive periscope, and telescope of Your “telos,” with mercy and compassion and without any zoning-in on or grasping onto the specific, as that pulls us back down to within that map that we have risen above, and as it does so swiftly issue out the dark Hand of exacting justice from so deep within the most powerful regions of Your lightly-veiled, but not at all off-limits, most private reaches of Your personal perceptions, from the point-of-view of Your Person, O Father of all, and Son only to One.
Title: “A Song. The Sacred Heart of the Cross, Beaten, Bloody, and Bare.”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this lovely new day and for all the spiritual gifts and consolations of this, Thy presence, as endeavoring towards You, “all things are granted unto us,” for in “seeking first the kingdom,” all our truest needs shall be met, and we shall not be found wanting (Matthew 6:33, New American Bible Revised Edition).
Please my Lords, in this time of abundance as in times of spiritual pestilence or famine, let us reap as if we had sown nothing, “let us rejoice as if we had rather to mourn, let us mourn as if with the detachment of those soon to be rejoicing, and those of us with a plentitude, let us act as if we had nought,” so that in this confluence of states and harmony of attainment and lack thereof, “we may possess all things in possessing nothing,” and so that “we may know how to abound as well as to suffer,” and so with dignity prosper as much in our charity as when rather we are in need of it, in this spiritual take on it, as a reference to God’s mercy, and an unseen superabundance that is always free to all, as we conform our traits and mind states to a state of grace, in truth and in honesty, and in Confession and in Communion, as in our will and in our hearts we seek You as one, and find You in a river abounding in peace, let loose from within with the tap tap tap—cracking open of our hearts—as the floodgates pour forth the living water of goodness, straight from the soul (1 Corinthians 7:29-32; 2 Corinthians 6:10; Philippians 4:11-13, Authorized King James Version).
And as we do enjoin our will to Yours and seek shelter in the cross, under the shade and shadow of the Hand of the Most High, we draw closer to You in willingly suffering, and then all things draw into us as we draw into Your Sacred Heart. For we embrace the cross in crossing that threshold, of briars and thorns, of brutal, barren, brash fig trees and uprooted black souls—of tares planted by an enemy, of toil and the sweat of our brow, of a crown of thorns and mockery, and a robe of scarlet crimson red, of a red velvet rope and barricade, cutting us off from You, as a moat, as a bandit hanging from branches, confessing not Your eternal Truth.
“What is truth?” is inquired, in an inquisition wrought like iron with pain, and what is beating and beaten, more than Your wounds of the Slain (John 18:38, New American Bible Revised Edition)? What is broken, what is misery, what is sacred yet bloody—”what is as strong as a lion and as sweet as honey?” (Judges 14:18, New American Bible Revised Edition). Is it not in the midst of this gate, this encampment, of thistle and thorn like a crown grown round Your Cross? Is this not utterly beaten down and banished by the vain hearts of man, by the prince of this world whose hour is in darkness in his lying black heart?
Is the Way not through this strait and narrow, this doorway with doorposts enjoined as one beneath their blood-splashed lintel? Is not it through the acceptance of You, in the cross that is freedom, as You beat the enemy death by submitting to death itself? For all things are under You until You are brought under, just to lift up from the depths those sunken through treason. And yet then You sink down to release us, to lift us with Your laughter, as exhaling sweetly You bear this—the burden of Your Cross. It is in the cross that we find You, and in this Your Crucifixion, that all things are pulled sweetly into one, this blood poured from Your Heart.
It is the side of Christ, that brings us into within that laughter, that takes on all in His refusal of none. And it is the side of Christ on which we find ourselves, as in scorning not the cross, He bears us with it Himself. For we cherish our crosses that like a crutch lift us to freedom, though seeming at first like the injury beyond injuries like a spear in the side, to do us in once and for all. For it is for all that He saves, He saves without knowing, without prejudice, and He saves all who come to Him not even knowing His Name. He saves all in His Heart, “made perfect by suffering,” and all in His Heart is made sacred like His Name (2 Corinthians 12:9; Hebrews 2:10, Authorized King James Version). It is Christ Jesus Who saves us, as we enter into Him by the true Way, by the Truth and the Light and the Path of the Cross. It is in Him that we go on, and keep filling these vessels, with sacred blood and water, and living laughter.
It is in Him that we draw life as to Him we draw near, and plant our souls subtle stalks firmly in Him. We cross through the briars, we cross over the thistle, and we cling to our crosses through thorns and bloody tears. And we enter into sacred ground when we enter into this tragedy, and “we shall not be left wanting when we have had our fill” (John 4:10-15, Authorized King James Version). This Heart, beaten and bloody, it yet beats within us, and beats all and all over as with one look it clears… its Name. “What’s in a name,” like a rose she sniffs sweetly, and I just hold her nearer in this clearing, of shame. That’s how it is for Me, and My Name. Oh dear Lord Jesus. Selah.
Title: “Taken: Elijah’s Chariot in a Baptism by Fire”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this lovely new day and for all the blessings of Your favor with which You so delightfully dispose me to Your will, in my heart and in action, in my life and my mind, in page and in verse, and in prayerful attentiveness to you and this fruitful completion of Your designs this day.
Please, my Lords, in the Light that is the Spirit of Truth and understanding, let us ever so gently, ever so gracefully, ever so gratefully, allow our wills to follow after this Truth, for in laying our minds upon Your Word, as we lay our eyes upon Your Sacred Scripture, we may then allow this, our soul’s faculty of intention and affection, to direct the actions of this body its earthly vessel, to follow suit in all that Your Truth commands and all that Your great good will ordains.
And as we clear a way in our hearts and make way in our minds, to set open a place wherein You may reside, we follow upon You swiftly with all the quickness of agility, as with the aptitude of our minds we follow You anywhere, even unto the highest altitudes that Your heavenly grace in the mortality of this body will allow, as it still remains as it is, ever still joined to its soul in life.
And as we set out to scale the heights of fathoming You, we find too that we must be ready to plunge with that spear into the depths of Your side, Your Heart, from which such torrents of mercy and compassion flow, for these who stay true to Your witness and Testament, that binds the old with the new as the darkness with the Light, and my life to Yours as my will with the Father’s.
And as we plunge into the depths of sanctity in Your Sacred Heart it seems clear, that as ardently as we desire You in all uniformity with each one of Your commands, and each teaching You bestow to the grasp of the conscience within these open, willing, and able hearts, we shall receive You, Father and Son, in the exact proportion to our desire and our effort, our patience, which is the sign of love born true, and our perseverance, to attain to within Your grace and Your mercy, like in the great balancing scales of justice held by Your archangel, as we scale this mountain, this metaphor, to be found in Your good graces as You weigh out our hearts against Yours, our good deeds against bad, and our truth against falsehood.
So we labor and rest, and we bear our burden, this life, until cometh that day when Your Truth will appear, in a flash in a cloud, in a fire a smokescreen, in a pillar of dust foreshadowing the dust we shall become, who have not laid into Your teachings and upheld Your Truth, in this mountain of holiness of a sparkling clean conscience, clothed in white like an angel transfigured, to display the filth and debris, and dust and ash of our hearts, that we have overcome in ourselves in clinging instead onto You.
For in that most secret place, the soul’s lair in the conscience and the heart of our mind for those who reap You in truth, the absence of shadows is the claim of Your glory, as bespoken by sign, symbol, and awakening, we cling wordlessly to You. For You have filled in the shadow we cast out, in exiling falsehoods and secrets from dwelling within our hearts.
And to the extent that we adore You, and at the same time truly know You, through knowing first ourselves and holding only to Truth, is the extent that we shall contain You, as You fill our wills entirely to claim as Your own, as like with a silken white flag torn from a landed parachute, bearing Your Lamb’s blood red cross, sunk into the ground in the soul of our hearts—this soul is taken, and our chariot awaits, in a baptism of fire.
Title: “The Seven Gifts of the Holy Spirit, and the Mystery of the Jewelry Box Revealed”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this wonderful new day, and for all the comfort and consolations I receive in You and from Your company in refusing to find my comfort and rest in the world, or in Your creatures and created things.
Please my Lords, help me this day to grasp onto You with all the devotion and tenacity that this love will require, and with all the focus and perseverance that the mind’s eye opened, risen above this soul in the clarity and Light of true understanding, will provide.
Please my Lords, as we await You to take shape in an instant before the watchful readiness of this gift, this manifold mystery unfolds itself, like wings like origami, bending and unwinding and turning over itself again, in the lucid unravelling of this heavenly gift, packaged within itself and its wrapper, as we peel open our soul’s eyes, only for it to peel back of its own—as if in a mutual correspondence, or a perfect reflection in a mirror but with a delayed reaction—its own layer after ours, as quid pro quo or tit for tat, and move for move, one at a time each side acts playing its own part, as if these are two players taking their turns, at this intuitive game of giving and receiving, a-heart-for-a-Heart.
This game, this package, this unfurling of spiritual gifts, reveals one after another right before our eyes—first as our desire to see You and receive You in Wonder, comes Wisdom with Understanding as we open Understanding’s own eye, then Counsel then Courage, as Right Judgment and Fortitude, and with Knowledge of You following right on its tail. And then Piety called Reverence before Wonder and Awe, as this “Fear of the Lord is the beginning of Wisdom” once more (Proverbs 9:10, Authorized King James Version).
These “gifts of the Spirit” are holy in giving, and these gifts of the Spirit are seven totaled with the final score (Isaiah 11:1-2, New American Bible Revised Edition). The Holy Spirit itself is one infinite package, given in a finite action from My lips to yours. In this gift and this Spirit, My holiness My anchor, I bestow to You My purity to your clay, and with nostrils flared the Spirit breathes deeply, and catches onto something deep inside you that cannot be diminished to just clay. My work, My creation, My creativity in My creature, and this catches fire with My Spirit as My Spirit is enkindled as flame—this work of My hands and fruit of My creation, mankind bearing My Spirit with My gifts tucked in deep inside….
Until one day when that Spirit in catching fire in My love, catches on. This human bearing My mark, like My thumb’s holy imprint, he looks up in wonderment as he wonders “why”; he looks up to the sky the dome, over My creation, and that spark sparkles within him as my gift speaks with its own voice on high. This Spirit My Holiness, My answer to your questions, is implanted, imprinted, so very deep inside, to respond to your response, to being born in this creation, in posing this query to a Creator known only beyond the sky.
This knowledge, this answer, is born out in time, through labor and honesty to the heart willing to try, as “if you give Me an inch, I’ll give you 100-fold a mile,” and this Spirit My Holiness is a total package deal (Matthew 5:41; Mark 4:19-20, New American Bible Revised Edition). Without humility, or honesty, or patience to wait for Truth, or with rash judgment, or deceit, or denial of rational thought—with any of these flaws of commission or omission, within the conscience of the soul, the error will mar you and mark off the Truth, yet with just these few stipulations, of honesty and the courage to seek it in humble thought met, these gifts all as one, in My Spirit cascade through.
And then from above as if a sign of Your grace, a jewelry box topples over, spilling open its contents, of precious gemstones and jewels. “All as one, all or nothing. Take it or leave it,” and then after speaking, I AM withdrew.
Title: “The Castle and the Orb: Salvador Mundi Shares His Blueprints”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this lovely new day of grace and patience, and for all the good things to come our way, as we accept the good with the bad, and lower ourselves in humility as we bend our wills to strengthen our hearts, and soften our hearts to strengthen our minds, all in integrity of Spirit and on the foundation of keeping firmly to the teachings of Christ, realized in Your Word and brought to life in our conscience.
Please my Lords, in this new day that is a new encounter with You, in trust, love, and the fidelity of any human relationship, let us hasten to meet You as we keep back from sin, and let us stay true to Your expectations as You live up to them in our hearts, for we shall not be found wanting in Your scales of justice, nor caught off guard in our watching, as at the hour we least expect it You shall certainly be here.
As both in our hearts and in our minds, we keep true to obedience, and to love for love’s own sake, in upholding Your standard and ideal in words and in deeds, we are sure then to find You, in these hearts kept up within You, and in our lives to the extent that we embody You mindfully in our deeds. And as we watch and keep waiting, and keep watch and await, from the far corners of waiting, this world curls in on itself. And like a map stretched out on a tabletop, that as a scroll has been rolled out, suddenly these paperweights on its edges, of their own lift themselves up! And in this vision, this transparency, of a thin vellum parchment paper scroll, is as see-through as Your guard is, as being now “caught,” You turn him “off.”
And in this map stretched out, to “four corners of this Earth,” is found a celestial circumference, an orb, that from this feeling has given birth (Daniel 8:16-26; Zechariah 2:1-9, Revelation 7:1-3, New American Bible Revised Edition). This globe of folded-in vellum, of a map that won’t stay flat, of a heart that won’t lie still, and a door that won’t stay closed—it shutters as it shuts, turned outside-in, and in a backlash of those folded-in four corners, it fans back out as if in a self-possessed flurry of retaliation.
This map with its four corners, this symbol of this Earth, this wannabe globe of celestial space born into a terrestrial Earth—this map is the human mind, and this folding is the will, as when lifted up from those four corners are earthly crutches and supports that are not You, the “paperweights” unleash the will that acts out of its own accord, as other worlds and maps of sorts no longer bend to meet it.
As this map finds no restraint, it learns to feed its ego, and it reels back in as self-possessed, to become its own center of a self-made globe. This vellum is truly see-through, but an orb that’s made of glass, transparent and see-through though it may be, in its integrity of Spirit it stands a chance. For, the four corners of this Earth, this mind this map this world, “shall be set aflame to test the builder, in testing his schema against his shame” (1 Corinthians 3:10-17, Authorized King James Version).
And as the ego curls and cringes and burns away unfounded when insult is delivered or a blow landed, and the will hardly retains its shape, the self-styled ego fashioned as a would-be orb withers away to curls of phantasmic ash. Yet the will fashioned around My Spirit, the mind laid into Me, remains in My upper hand of holiness, ingrained in this glass, this crystal, this shape of Me. And while the map burns away as a top layer, a sketch, a blueprint merely of what’s truly underneath, the orb is not empty but truly it stands, as the purest foundation and Fruit of a mind molded in Me. And this orb of glass, or of crystal as it were, is saved from the flame in actuality as the clear vellum blueprint becomes ash. For having a teaching and putting it into action, is “building a house upon rock and not upon sand,” in merely clinging to blueprints without then showing Me your castle (Matthew 7:24-29, New American Bible Revised Edition). This castle, this orb, of a “Salvador Mundi,” it stands because I hold it, as it holds onto Me, and so now I appear in this glass eye that upholds it, this crystal castle and palace of the Kingdom come.
So hold Me in Your hearts, but give birth in Your actions to the Christ Emmanuel You would like Me to be, for the you that you show seems to Me unseemly, if the you that you hide is the ash of no castle to show for your blueprints, your supposed “work” (James 2:14-20, Authorized King James Version). So then show me the Baby, as the Mother is praised, for to give birth through these labors and pains—that is Me. And to hold onto the blueprints without building with that belief a castle, is to placate in vain a world simply not meant to be.
Title: “A Story of Sorts. The Shipwreck of Piracy and the Scoundrel’s Last Chance: Till the Last Penny is Paid and the Foghorn is Blared.”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this lovely new day and for all the gifts and blessings of Your presence with which You so generously reveal to me Your will, as You here with me now, and I also with You, You and I together as one adhere to Your will, and bring forth to completion the purposes of Your designs, so that all things may find their place in You, and all things may settle into what they truly are—either dispelled as shadows, settled like the dust and debris of a shaken up Earth, or settled like nests in the soul with Your Spirit, in this, the blinding light to unseeing eyes and the magnificent glory of Your great brilliance, that is, the visitation of the LORD.
Please, my Lords, as we settle into Your Truth like an armchair, and Your Light like a bright sun to tender blue eyes, let us draw in closer to Your freedom within that secret place and divine heart and center within, so that within this liberty known in truth, in all its glory yet to be revealed but tasted yet in glimpses within the vision of the soul’s grasping eyes and tasting mouth, and speaking lips with all the tongues of a licking and lapping nesting of fire and all the devouring of a consuming fire for the food of souls, we may know You.
In this gnawing of the worm of the conscience, let us taste Thy sweet victory, and drink the sweet blood of Your milk, as we fortify our footholds, reinforce our reins, and bolster our bulwarks, and ready our hearts and minds for the strong meat of solid food, as the Bread of life Himself gives Himself freely to all who have strengthened their jaws to take Him in, grown in the teeth of maturity to devour His greeting, and filed the blades of bread-breaking, to share in strength and harmony the double-edged blessing of this Word and this feast, this sacrament and ceremony in the heart as well as in the Church’s true nesting.
And as we take on water in these vessels, these loads, that like jugs of clay fashioned as hearts that we carry upon our shoulders and upon our heads, let us dwell in the balance of upholding as well as being upheld, as that yoke and that burden for heavy lifting becomes us, as we become You simultaneously at once as the You yoked to that Cross.
So upheld and upholding, is this heart and its Healer, the herald and harbinger as one with his Head, as the Bread and the Body, the Blood and the Wine, makes use of His coming, like the coming of age, to age the wine, about to be transformed from these large vats of water. And at this ceremony and sacrament indwelling in a sacramental life, foreshadowing the onslaught of “a Cana” to an unsuspecting bunch of sour grapes, this Word of His waking nestles firmly in the threshold of a storm-tossed ship’s wake, as typhoon upon tempest, and tousled hair upon mats, take their leave in their vestments and vests, leaving only visages to the victuals that, barely touched or eaten, lie still “upon silver platters” in the House of John, as like remnants of a people quickly scattered and uprooted in the Passover’s quick passage, from exile to freedom, and from bondage to Home.
This evidence, this treason, this array of wrath for more flavor for the fare, this flame enkindled brightly from My lips to yours, is untying its noose freely of its own accord, as in one accord with the Father and Son and Heir to the throne of Holiness, as the air of the Spirit unfetters newly-uplifted wings, this leash, this noose, is given rightly to “Judas.”
And from the Far East, and far right, the wings of this Manor—“In my Father’s House there are many mansions…” echoes away under thick layers many decibels below—as from the far reaches of the Earth and the far wings of this Manor, an exile is freed from the threat of full-on shipwreck many fathoms below.
The breach of a covenant like the breach of a whale, shall suffer one only to taste of death and not to dwell in it, as this son mends his ways and amends his conscience, but for the son of treason who is a bastard to his Father, the breach that goes unmended shall be the beginning of your downfall. The break in your vessel to let leak out all of your engine’s ignitable fluid, and the leak in your vessel to show once and for all that the unsealed hull of you ship, and your unsealed liar’s lips, and your unsealed soul in your blasphemy of God’s grace shall bear witness to your ruin as you sink into the deep: this shall be your legacy, where your own conscience shall devour you, you cannibal and urchin of piracy, and of perjury, as you forfeit to foreclosure with slander your freedom.
This ship takes on water where it should not, and loses precious cargo from the vat where it should be, and so your trampled-over engine shall turn no more as your treason is set in stone, and the stony heart you bear like a millstone, tied around your neck, shall be the food of your just deserts, in showing how utterly you are deserving of death. So a Wedding at Cana, and a shipwrecked crowd of guests, who should have been carrying their libations as living water in their hearts to be poured out as Wine—this spectacle is for the speechless, as a vision to take place, in so many ways and places, till you’re blue in the face.
And neither the body nor the sunken treasure was ever recovered.
Title: “A Story. The Mercy Seat of the Heart and the Cherubim’s Flaming Sword”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this wonderful new day and for all the pain and sadness, tears and glory, anger and frustration, and peace and calm—all in their turn—that keep me so motivated to remain within Your sacred shelter of the soul, and oriented now as much as ever towards the advancement towards virtue and the onward and upward progress of deepening and strengthening our union, in this relationship of mutual trust and reciprocity, prized in these clutches above all else, be it even to the exclusion of all else.
Please my Lords, in this new day of a renewal of grace in Your presence and divine mercy, let us pray with our hearts and sacrifice our time, so that bleeding and breathless, palpitating with the pulp of the soul and pithy pitch of Your only begotten Word, we may fly free in our liberty from sin, and enjoy the true freedom of an endlessly unbounded conscience, that is both the root and offspring of all good work, both in the Spirit and without.
And so as we make our way as we make a clearing, in clearing out a prayer space and cleaning out our hearts, let us flush out all this noxious fluid of wrathful resentments by letting this most tenderly painful bitterness breathe, and then airing out these grievances in words so that they need not linger in our hearts, to spread their toxic fluid like the spread of infection.
And as we let this wound breathe, airing out our pierced and opened hearts, we do drain the abscess of pus and infection, so that it may flow freely only by unclogging the blockage, bringing to light its injury and letting pass the infectious feeling, as it is brought out in the open, exposed, revealed, acknowledged, and for the time being until this Heart bound to sacredness, this wound and this injury, with the infection of its future as-yet-unvoiced bitterness, flares up again.
And as this wound, this organ, this wind’s instrument of holy emotion, releases its clotted fluid from an over-boiling of its blood, the rush of release pours proudly, displaying its dislodged offering and its working wind, and breathlessly, now anesthetized, by the freely moving circulation of a now unbound circuitry, this heart and this organ, this vessel and windpipe, unleashes its holy fluid now bittersweet, knowing that this painful truth, and bitter pill to swallow, and cold hard facts to take in, have found both their acceptance and expression, and have been swallowed whole. And this Heart and this cup, has been filled with agony and the wine of God’s wrath, and is yet still consumed, as this billowing fiery organza of wilted layers, like the translucent film of bubbling burning flesh, sheds its layers of peeled-back and singed veils to display the spectral seat of mercy and winged “sphinxlike” cherubim, wielding this flaming sword and forbidden fruit intertwined as one in its chest cavity once more.
And this beating billowing emblem, of a fiercely fiery, otherworldly display, unpeels layer after layer in its curtain of loosely-bound flames, to show knitted-together its nature, of both human and divine, of both body and Spirit, of both the Creator and His design, enmeshed in this guardrail and this meshing, girt about the guardian of a sacred altar space species, blessed to do Thy bidding.
And as the Priest steps forward like a soot-covered Melchizedek, dirtied from His work, He dusts off His Church in the hearts of man, as this Bride and the Spirit, made clean by His sacrifice, unveil to Him the holies that He has been recapitulated to find. And our Priest and Sacrifice, in God and man made one, in His Tabernacle and Temple, and Eden lived out like a prophecy in time, encompasses the fullness of all things, in this “Song of Songs,” and like a pillar New Jerusalem and Her cloud of God’s glory, are exhumed in an awakening, of Rapture once more.
“It is done,” He declares, out of breath and out of time, “until the fullness of this eternal circuitry, the circulation of my Sacred Heart, comes full circle in its orbit, in its Coming round again.” Exhale.
Title: “The Peacemakers: The Words of Faithful Simeon as We Depart Now in Grace”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this lovely new day and for all the hope like for the Resurrection of the grace of Your presence, which sustains us like the life of the soul sustaining the body, in The Spirit and in things unseen as this hope supports us, and serves as a foundation for all things that are seen and used like a medium to redirect our outer vision inward, and lead us back to You, as we deepen our relationship in Spirit through Your works in this material creation.
Please my Lords, in this new day of a new hour of need, allow that in Thy grace and majesty we may have the chance, if it so be Your will, to in our knowledge of You increase our compassion in You, and as towards You we feel the greatest mercy and lovingkindness, for You are perfect love itself and so utterly deserving of such love for the sake of Your ultimate goodness, let us see You in all those who we meet who may not have experienced Your love. So that in loving them as You deserve, they may perhaps receive the gift that is You to enable them to have knowledge of such love, and to thereby love You and acknowledge You as You are in grace, and to abide in You through loving like You, and to love like You through coming to know of it through us, Christ’s disciples who demonstrate His work.
For is this not the meaning of a mission, of a missionary’s service, to provide for those in need the things they have not? And for those who mistreat us for a lack of love in their hearts, and the utter absence of any knowledge of You—on the personal level and in Your truth and perfection, found in honesty and humility within the human experience of hardship and suffering—for those who act harshly for not knowing of Your love, from not knowing what love is, which You are in truth to the honest soul, we shall in turn give them this love which is missing from their hearts.
For just as our knowledge of love is You within us for You first loved us, it may perhaps be Your will that the knowledge of You—the knowledge of what real love is—come upon them in an act of generosity on our parts, as we emulate You in giving them first the love that they need to return then to us. For as it is written, “being persecuted we shall love our enemies and return not insult for injury, as when they curse us we bless them, and return in good for their evil,” so that our ways may speak to Your grace and provide a witness to Your strength—of a love unfeigned that goes not unnoticed in standing apart from the ways of man and the ways of the world, as it is this love that constrains us and emboldens us in power, to resist evil as we resist sin, not by the power of man’s own force or influence, but by the power of love which we have as we abide in You by following Your precepts, and Commandments and Beatitudes, that have their home in our heart (Matthew 5:43-48, 1 Corinthians 4:9-17, New American Bible Revised Edition).
For in resisting not persecution but abstaining from all evils, Your love shall work through us to overcome in the end, for as it is written, “Christ is the Victor” Who shall succeed in our hearts as by our actions we show to have let Him in (1 Corinthians 15:57, Authorized King James Version). For that cruel heart that hurts us, with a grievance or harsh word, needs this love of ours to overcome itself, just as we have conquered through You our own inner struggles against hate. For hate is an action just like love is shown in deed and in truth as an action, that is beyond mere sentiment or an affection expressed by words or residing quietly in the mind. So too with hate it is an action that goes beyond what the feelings of the heart inwardly seem to be, and as we refuse its expression in our lives but instead give birth to lovingkindness, not just in word but in deed, in this way we respond to those who mistreat us, and act towards us with cruelty that is the evidence of a soul living apart from You. As we give birth to love in our response to these orphans, that love may then be seen for the very first time by these former bastards in truth, so that in us they may see love and so come to believe, as we give them this seed of Your grace and the knowledge of how true love is supposed to be.
And then there were two where before there was one.
And as this gift is paid forward it is received by the have-nots, so that in them may flower that blossom of the heart, that has made its way to You and found its peace in Your goodness, as in the words of faithful Simeon, “Now that I have looked upon my Savior, Your servant may depart in peace,” knowing that all things are fulfilled within Him, and that now too, I am at one with His grace (Luke 2:25-35, New American Bible Revised Edition).
Title: “The Consuming Fire Consumed like Host: The Church Militant, Suffering, and Triumphant”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this lovely new day and for all the grace and tenderness of Your presence here now, with me in Your tender mercy as I open myself up to You entirely, even in the deepest and darkest innermost recesses of this cavern of the soul, the human heart.
Please my Lords, in the grace that is mercy, and the love that is one and the same with Your goodness, please let us together in the sanctity of the Spirit, by the virtuosity of the soul upheld in You, continue to grow towards You in likeness in the bounty of Your provision, the superabundance of Your Sacrifice that abounds within us. For, as proven through testing like the Temptation in the Wilderness, we deepen our hold in You only in adversity, like in the fires needed to fuse and fasten, and weld and solder, two metals together, in this spiritual union with You, this enjoining and connectedness between by soul and Yours, as one in Spirit, we unite.
And just as one flame upon two wicks is yet the very same fire, so when these two wicks become one that fire that shines in us that we put on display, is one and the same fire and Spirit of Holiness, and it is through bearing the same flame, lit in Truth and the Light, that we are drawn to each other, as kindred Spirits enkindled of the same divine love. And this fire consumes us and engulfs every part of us, as it laps up the darkness that would otherwise itself eat us away inside. And as we consume more of this flame, this Word and bearing of Your love, it is this flame that truly consumes us, as You make Yourself more present within, and make within us, this knowledge of Yourself in Your Wisdom, ever more clear.
And as that Host that is our Eucharist, Body and Blood of Christ, makes His way to our hearts as in a Procession, and too in a processing within ourselves, we make our way to Him also bearing our open hands, to take Him within us and through the action of the Holy Spirit allow that we as two may become One.
And as we consume this Eucharist, like the flame of God’s love, it is the Eucharist that consumes us, as it bears the name of our true Host. For as Jesus in dying and being absorbed within death, in this He consumed it and absorbed death into Himself. So too as in dying He consumed death, in being eaten by man He consumes us, and overpowers from within the mortality that is made subject to Him. And in allowing Himself to be consumed so He may conquer, He makes Himself as fragile and as docile as a Lamb, led to the slaughter, for He is Faith in the one God and the omnipotent presence, that knows that in delving deep He shall only draw the depths back into Himself, and the darkness into the Light—for He is Light.
And so the candle and its flame allows that it be extinguished, by darkness and by debris, that is the dust of man, so that He may dissolve Himself in this black soul, this darkness, and being absorbed into it then absorb it into Himself. For this Jesus our King, is no mere flame of the fire, but He is the one Light from which that flame arose—and this fire allows itself to be consumed for He knows He is all-consuming, and in His sovereign Lordship He shall overpower it as that darkness within, is unfolded into this lightsomeness as He comes out victorious, now bearing the battel scars of death with the blood of His pierced Sacred Heart.
And this victor emerges in the emergent shoot of Jesse and Church victorious, Militant, Suffering, and Triumphant, from the depths of Hell, for death could not contain Him Who wields supremacy over all. And so in consuming our Word, and our Eucharist and Host, it is our Host Who becomes us, and in consuming us, wears us like a crown, and enrobed like a new King in the choir of our submission, to Him in rest and in the will that is united with God.
Title: “An Instructional Piece. The Fellowship of the Spirit in The City of God: The Ego’s Last Stand and the First Ambush, of a Secret Alliance Wrought Within.”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this lovely new day and for all the grace and blessings of Your presence, as we use them here now this day to grow stronger in Spirit and in spiritual awareness, and deeper in union and holiness with You.
Please my Lords, as we work this day to break through any interior barriers which may be holding us back from our fullness of greater potential held in store for us within Your unbounded will “of the Spirit given without measure,” let us fortify the walls of our defense as we still guard against all sin, and protect any positive changes and proactive outcomes that have come about in our lives, as we rest our hearts and strengthen our souls in this resolve of our aim, and our resolution to see You in faith and in glory, in this life and the next (John 3:34, Authorized King James Version).
And as we work in conjunction with You to build this internal city in the eternity of the soul, we constantly build it as we destroy it, as we hold onto You and let go of self, but then more than that, we tear down the walls of self and increase and strengthen and build greater and higher walls that are You, so that as we build our defenses we let down our defensiveness, and as we build up virtue, we tear down lingering shards and remnants of sin. And as we build up You, we tear down us, to be constantly building it as we are destroying it, in the good and the bad in this life that shall be an eternal house in Heaven and memorial to Your grace in this city of God, in the Kingdom of Heaven yet to come.
And as in the trial of our imperfections, we let the ego lead to stake out its stronghold, showing us its claim in all its points of greatest strength in its pride and pleasure. And so as this enemy to Your Spirit in the soul escorts us through his side and tactics, we scope out what must go first and how to take it down, for the points of strength to the ego within are the points of greatest weakness to the soul who has already successfully laid his foundation in You.
And so in taking our tour through the enemy lines, to see what our pride and “manmade dignity” honor most, these problems of spiritual import we shall tackle first, as in laying waste to these sources of pride we shall open up places of humility where Your true Light shall shine through. And in this ego’s last stand, as it has built its defense, in pride of things not of virtue or of spiritual significance, not a thing there shall stand as we tear down each stone, so that not one stone shall be found standing upon another, but all shall be shattered in ruin and razed to the earth, as they shone in false glory only the reflection of self, and not in bearing the image of You.
And so like glass shall they shatter and crunch underfoot, as sand in the hourglass that speaks of their temporal origin, while the true pearls, of the sea of peace that is You with “the salt within,” that are jewels speaking to Wisdom, and mined as true gold, not fool’s gold, from the careful investigation and trying of the heart, these riches within—these true treasures shall replace the makeshift scaffolding of self, that is just cardboard and plywood of a fronting of self, destined to fall over in dust and ash like a fake movie set city not meant to be real, in a Hollywood town built for silver screen setups, in a façade and veneer and fronting that like, in and of itself the ego, bears no substance of Spirit or Your reality underneath (Mark 9:50, New American Bible Revised Edition).
So as we tear down these frontings of fakeness that scaffold our construction underway, of our place in the eternal city in the soul that we may build in Heaven while we are yet here on Earth, we destroy it as we build it, as we kill our ego to give its life and time and thought taken of itself instead to the soul, only to then build it out in its fakeness as a new scaffolding again. For this city we build, we truly live in and dwell in, and it is not some empty space from its being out of use as like a movie set village. But we who abide in Christ and in God within, in the Kingdom of the soul as we build it up to You, we shall flare out our nostrils and puff up our chests, to get a good look of how this expansion of borders is made yet in action on Earth.
In confidence and frontery and the ego’s first ambush, we use it to work for us in our souls to broaden our horizons with our comfort zones, and after it stakes out its claim in this life it lives, we then overtake it in its last stand as like troops of the same team to be requisitioned as rightful territory of one and the same soul. So we build it as we destroy it, this city within, honoring as we do with all souls in this mystery beyond the bend, of the will and of the Way, that Selfsame Spirit of God Who clears the Way, and leads the onslaught to claim this heart and this soul, for the glory of God.
Title: “Heaven Within: This Sea of Peace like New Wine in New Wineskins, is BYOB”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this beautiful new day and for all the pain and blessings, and joy and sadness, and grief and glory of Thy benefits, as we place our trust in You and accept the good with the bad in patience and grace, to let all things work towards the greater good and strengthen us in fortitude and steadfastness in Your will, as one with You Who transcends all subjective and limited judgments of a merely one-sided appraisal of this life and this world.
Please my Lords, in this day that is a new step towards You in this foretaste of the closeness we shall enjoy in Heaven, let us pool our resources and gather in all our faculties and components of the soul, so that in prayerful recollection and collected as one in Your sight and Your grace, we may demonstrate personally the stillness and calmness of cool waters running deep that we hope to experience in our knowledge of You, the sea of tranquility and sea of peace. And let us be calm through the placing of our trust in You and though our spiritual dispositions, rather than from any conditions of comfort we may find in the world, or in getting what we want in our selfish pursuits or material needs, for that is just pacifying the ego like an ornery child, and placating and appeasing and mollifying selfish sensuality and sinful self-will, rather than resting in the peace of maturity that is the composure of graceful detachment acquired rather from learning to do without.
So as we have our needs denied rather than met, this is the true testing ground of peace and patience, and kindness and grace, for when all good things flock together to meet us, even the worst child of sin can be kind and composed, and eloquent in the gracious generosity of a flattered self-will. But to one who has all good things wrested from him, as like a saint or like Job in his time of need, and can still see to it to be patient and kind—this composure while in the time of distress, is the only true test and the only true evidence of true love and true charity, as the kind that comes in truth from You, and true peace within.
For the soul who has lost all and has none of his earthly needs met, and yet who can act kindly and not cruel like a petulant child in impudence who hasn’t gotten his way, this soul can act so in graciousness and kindness and love, because this soul has found his true rest in You, as “You supersede and meet his needs spiritually, one and all,” to render his earthly neglect or material loss, irrelevant, as You replace those losses with the gain of the greatest good and best possible attainment, which is that merely of You Yourself and Your presence within us (Matthew 6:32-33, New American Bible Revised Edition).
For we can act so in love and the patience of true kindness, even when all around us has gone to Hell, because it is You within us Who acts on our part, to bring Heaven with our actions and the virtues to which we cling, as we cling to You. And as like a great banquet hall labeled “BYOB,” is this “new wine of the Spirit” as our faith in You made manifest (Matthew 9:17; Acts 2:2-4, 12-13, New American Bible Revised Edition). For we shall have Heaven as we bring it, with the virtue of our hearts, tried and tested as true souls of solid gold in this crucible of the adversities of the world. And we shall not be “cast into outer darkness” at “the Marriage Supper of the Lamb” in the world to come, for not coming “clothed in the wedding garment of charity and virtuous good deeds,” that shall prepare us for an afterlife that posts that its Heaven, is BYOB according to the Heaven that is wrought in our souls in faith, in that new wine and living flame of love, of the Holy Spirit within (Matthew 8:8-13; Revelation 19:6-9; Matthew 22:11-14, Authorized King James Version).
Title: “From Know Thyself to Know the Truth: The Father, Son, and Holy Ghost”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this wonderful new day and for all the consolations and spiritual delights of Your presence within, as the gifts of the Holy Spirit take their place in my unwrapped and unpackaged soul, to display their wares and work their magic, into this soul and all its activity, into this day and all its events, and into this life and on into the next one, in this world as in the world to come, on earth as it is in heaven.
Please my Lords, in this painful and blissful awakening into Your truth and the peace allotted for along with it in Your provision, please let us ponder Your mystery as we take in Your Word, and marvel over Your manifold manifestation, as Your coming in flesh and the Incarnation, and Your Word and in prophecy, and in the heart as we live in You in living Your life and not ours as true Christians should, and in a coming again in the Parousia for which a place setting is kept—as we ponder You in all these places, let us strive to know You all the better to accommodate Your coming, within and without us, by endeavoring first to know ourselves.
As in first knowing the self in truth, and tempered by obedience to belief in our knowledge of You, we ground our self-knowledge with careful humility, so that the “we” that we know, is always in comparison, to the God Almighty in our hearts and our Scriptures Who has graced us with His messages of old, and His Son Incarnate, the Word born into flesh for the salvation of all the world’s faithful. As in taking our true knowledge, of who we are, only in the context of You and Your salvific mercy, we know ourselves in our wretchedness and filth of sin, as we see the squalor of our spirits lined up next to Your holiness, and we behold our utter nothingness as Your creation compared to the greatness of You.
And in this knowledge of self in truth we see our wretched nothingness, as we are just dust and ash and the offspring of original sin, but we see this as only half of the picture, for also, we see You too, in all Your glory, shining down upon us Your grace to free us from sin, embracing us in Your presence to fill us with sanctity and light, and overwhelming our spirit of man with Your Spirit of Holiness, as Wisdom and clarity becomes us as we welcome into our purified hearts the new life of Your Son. So as we in our knowledge of self, enjoin it at once with our knowledge of You, we have in this perspective the groundedness of humility, wrought of the true faith of our trust in You, and Your mercy given freely to a poor sinner like me.
So in beholding the truth, we see the good with the bad, and indeed it seems that all the world itself pales in comparison to Your supernatural true Light of the Son. And in despising ourselves as we see us only next to You, we tear down the root of all sin and all evil, that is selfish self-love, and the sinful sensuality that comes so naturally to a creature of the earth—O woe to our wretched humanity, with its inclination so to sin!
Yet in despising ourselves for the purity that is not within us, as we are without Your grace, we despise not Your free gift of salvific grace, sent with Your Son and His Sacrifice to pull us up out of our selves, and to enrobe us with Him in this gift of His Spirit.
For this hatred of self-love when coupled with true belief, always gives birth to true love which is the love of the true God. And as we hate ourselves for our sins just in order to love You in truth, for You are God and for Your glory, and just to love You more, in this way we build our souls as we destroy them, building up all that is God and uprooting all that is not in the fertile soil of our love borne true, so that as we know ourselves in truth, likewise in truth, the better still we may know You.
Title: “Behold the Beam in Thine Own Eye, and ‘the Sin’ of Psychological Projection”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this beautiful new morning and for all the peace and love that is to be revealed in the grace of Your presence, and for this blessing of a new mystery to be better understood in this unraveling of the contours of Your manifold design.
Please my Lords, as we strive to know You better, and to remain within the grace of Your sight, let us too better know what it is that we view with the sight of our own eyes, lest we be deceived in the vision that we would like to behold, or in the view that our deceitful and self-aggrandizing egos would have us believe, in the absence of Your objective and impartial, true sight, taking in all things to be considered.
For as we consider the passage of Your Word, wherein it is said, “Judge not lest ye be judged. For you behold the mote in your brother’s eye, but you don’t consider the beam in your own eye. Remove first the beam from your own eye and then you can see clearly to remove the mere splinter from the eye of your neighbor”—in considering this passage, we consider what sins or imperfections or faults or flaws are at work in our own minds and souls before looking to another to convict him of his shortcomings (Matthew 7:1-5, New American Bible Revised Edition).
For as it is written, “Judge not lest ye be judged,” it is that very same beam in our own eye, and glaring and obvious fault of some particular sin, that we shall behold in some one of our brethren, and not the mere splinter that may defile his soul in truth, until we remove that beam and sin from our own lives (Matthew 7:1-5, Authorized King James Version).
For this saying is in truth a reference to “projection,” wherein it is known in psychology that the flaws we lay claim to ourselves, are the same flaws that we see in another, as we project our shortcoming onto them, in falsely attributing a wrong that is within ourselves, to someone else outside ourselves, lest “God forbid” we should injure our precious and incorrect egos in laying a true judgment upon ourselves instead of scapegoating another, to lay the blame upon someone that we know the guilt of our sin deserves.
And is this judgment we inflict upon another, in projecting that beam in our own eye perhaps falsely onto him, is this judgment we mete onto another not indeed the very same judgment we deserve ourselves, and for that very same sin as well? For more often than not, we are correct to notice that an error is at play and that someone or something is in the wrong, but because of our defensive egos aimed at pride and self-preservation regardless of the cost, even be it at the expense of the truth, we are all too likely and all too quick to shift the very real blame away from ourselves, the very real culprits of a very real shortcoming or sin, and onto someone else, most likely on the basis of proximity, which is to say, whoever is closest or most convenient, and at our disposal to play “the scapegoat like of Leviticus,” and take the blame and carry the weight and social stigma of our own “misplaced” sins (Leviticus 16:7-10, Authorized King James Version).
So in considering how you see us, my Lords, we do first consider how we ourselves see, as how we see others and how we see ourselves, and how if we have not first cleaned our own house of the soul, and cleared away any lingering flaws and particular sins and shortcomings that speak towards our own tendencies toward sin and inclinations to imperfections, it is these very same spots and defects in the lens and eyepiece of our own soul that we shall see, even when we direct our vision outwards and towards another.
So if we have not yet cleaned house, purified our hearts and minds, undergone spiritual as well as physical purgation to loose us from our habits of earthly delight that are the very same habits and tendencies of sin—as inclinations or actions towards these three great evils, of the flesh and the self, or ego, the devil, and the pride of life or the world, then we shall know that the sins we observe in others and the judgments we dish out to them—these are the very same judgments which we ought to accept of ourselves, and take heed to remedy and correct, lest we live in the darkness of denial and the fallacy of self-deceit, in this one little simple act of “scapegoating,” shifting the blame away from ourselves to avoid the harsh discomfort of our true judgment, and this fact of “psychological projection.”
So as we notice our judgments of our brethren, we do take care to take our own advice too, to internalize and accept any criticisms or judgments of others that could possibly be applied to ourselves too—for a little extra purity and a little extra humility in cleansing our imperfections can only ever work in our own favor, in these eternal treasure houses of our souls—and we truly do take it seriously, this omen—“Judge not lest ye be judged. Remove first the beam from your own eye, and cleanse thou you of your own flaws, imperfections, and sins, and then you can see clearly and free of sin to remove the mote from your brother’s eye, without projecting your own sins onto him” (Matthew 7:1-5, New American Bible Revised Edition).
Title: “A Song. The Snowball Effect of the Gift of the Spirit.”
(It is “a Song” because there is a rhythm to it, like the flow of a poem or the beat of a heart…)
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this wonderful new day, and for all the breathtaking and sublime marvel and magic, of Your clearest perspicacity in unveiling Your mysteries, and Your crystal-clear effulgent luminescence in imparting Your divine understanding to the things to come, as they be all within this single “present” of Your moment.
Please my Lords, in this great and luminous exhale that is a departure from the exile of earthly life and our entryway into You, please let us cling close to the movement and momentum of Your Spirit, as bursting into energy as that force within, it truly does sustain us in the love and power that is You, as we do so tightly grip our souls and so delicately and entirely surrender them over to You, all at once.
And please my Lords, if it please You in this moment and movement of Your Spirit and mystery, to move us more deeply into our center and apart from the stagnant waters and lethargy of the world, let it please You that we endeavor of ourselves to please You, and to give of ourselves a gift in the soul, to Your command and direction and Your purposes not ours, as we seek to somehow repay You or to give back in kind, for Your greater glory this gift of life, in Your gift of the Spirit circulating in this vein of reciprocity, from my heart to Yours, and back again.
And so as in the control of a giving over of control, to You and Your direction as it is made so very clear, we do give our hearts and our souls and move as Your move us, in steadfast cooperation and in conjunction with You. And this gift that You give us is greater in giving, and for the giving from my heart back to Yours, and then back to me as You give it again, this gift and this Spirit, of Holiness, proceeding in love, this gift is “a snowball effect” rolled greater in the Path that we tread endlessly, as we tread it in the magic and mystery—as if in a glitter storm of sparkling snowfall—in the mystery of the Cross.
And in this Path, this snowfall, crunching under our feet, it succumbs as we roll into it, the energy of Your heat, and in the bubbling percolation of effervescent love, this agapē in a windfall, takes us up in it again, as bowled over by Your Spirit, it rolls us up within, as we proceed to roll into it, in summoning together, gathering up, and collecting in close, all of our soul’s inner and outermost faculties as one, to roll along that Path and bring it back up to You.
And in forging ahead in the snowfall, to return diligently that gift, inspired by loving trust in Your name (wrought by experience of Your grace) and mutual kindness in reciprocity, we trudge up Your Path as Your Path becomes us, folding us up into its glistening snow-covered self and harvesting our answers, as to You only we respond in our paying it back, and so in a bubbling forth and overflow and outburst of energy, we are pushed past the brim in this icy wellspring, as You are forced within us in an overflow and spiritual outburst, to pay it forward.
So in this twofold Commandment, of love thy God and love thy neighbor, we love our God as our God within then sees after the neighbor, in an excess of energy that seeps out the edges, and billowing out through the seams spreads its effects Unseen, save through the Light of its prayer. So as we bring with us this gift, the only one worth giving, the Sacrifice of the soul and the Son in our hearts, the Spirit showers us with grace in a snowfall of a deep wind’s energy, to skyrocket us upstream and downwind, of our trajectory of Truth.
For in receiving the truest gift of the Truth revealed in Your Spirit, as we unwrap it in our hearts so it reveals itself within, we seek not the gift but rather the Giver, and look past the glittering treasure to behold the Heart that saw fit to give. And in looking past the hand dangling the treasure, like for a bunny or a babe, a carrot on a fishing pole stick, or a set of jangling keys—we look past the hand to see Who holds it, and find ourselves staring into the eyes of our Creator, face-to-Face.
For heart-to-Heart is how we seek Thee, in a tête-à-Tête as our mind by seeking You, and in Your Wisdom, is cleansed, and so in losing ourselves to give our souls over back to You, our life is found, for we find You, and only in You is any real life lived in Truth. So as this eternal moment is crucified away, in this gathering up of the Spirit into a tiny ball, in the giving it is gained like in a snow-covered Path, drawing marvel and mystery back into itself, as it departs not from its magic, this Life, in our “snowball effect,” of giving it back to You.
Title: “The Infant Jesus: Delivered like a Message, Bearing Gospel Truth”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this lovely new day, and for all the pain and joy, sorrow and gladness, fortune and misfortune, strength to overcome the evil, and the good with the bad, that You see fit to lay at our disposal, so that in giving not over to any comforts of the world—for they are so hard to come by and unreliable as such—we may persevere in steadfastness and truth in the things of the Spirit, endeavoring always to find You in all things, and to do Your will whether it be pleasant to us or not.
Please my Lords, in this new day of a fresh new reason to hope, in You and for Your presence in some fresh new way, let us enjoin our souls to Yours and our prayers to the Word of Your Gospel already writ, so that in this unity with You of heart and Spirit, we may grow in You more than towards You, for in the soul’s vision of our “believing,” we are already as one, and omnipresent as You are in our faith, You are already here.
As enjoined in You to Your greatest prayerful expression of hope, we repeat the words first entrusted to us by You in the Lord’s Prayer, and in this sentiment of Your teaching, that You forgive us as we forgive others; that we be led not into misfortune, but if it cannot be avoided, that even so You may deliver us; that we be given this day only the provisions of this day, so that we may not store up for ourselves stockpiles of self-reliance (over reliance upon and trust in You). And as we consider with careful attention these thoughtful petitions, and the gentle push and pull of a delicate balance to be discerned within them, we consider too where Your heart was as You issued to us these “Commands” as it were, in taking You seriously and You for Your Word.
And in placing our soul within Your heart in that place where it was, and conforming our spirit in intention and desire to the holiness in Yours, we may just enjoy a peek and a visit in this glimpse through Your eyes, of Your world within us, as we succumb to You, quickened and tempered into a more perfect conformity by the trials of this world, as we shuttle within straight up and down within Your channel of the soul with each turn of events, and fall not out of the Spirit’s harness holding us within, as into the safety nets wrought of men in the webbing of sin and fleshly or worldly temptation.
So as we do fall, for fall we must as goes up must so come down, we “fall within” in the Spirit and in the soul’s pain that still knows of You, in experiencing Your presence despite our agony, and we fall not out of our souls and into the world, or into sin, or into the body to linger in the delights that are purely of man.
So as we allow You to deliver us, from all evil, so too do we remain with You and without sin, and within You as one, so that even as we being human as yet cannot escape this experience, we can yet as we wait, and linger in pain, allow You to free us from the pain after we so experience it, brought about as it was, from the evils of the world.
And in this contrasting duality, of the world and of the Spirit, the things that are wrought in You are wrought in truth, so as we overcome within so too it follows, that we shall succeed likewise and overcome without, that is, in the bounds of man and his world of matter. Though it must be said as it be in truth, that what truly matters most is this world within, and that we not depart from You as You deliver us, from every evil like a message, bearing Your “Gospel Truth.”
Title: “The Definition of a ‘Miracle’ Felt Within: A Spirit’s Guide to Meditation in Brief.”
Dear YHWH and Jesus,
Thank You for this lovely new day and for all the joy and beauty innate to Your omnipotent presence, as sheltered within the safety of “the here and now” we have all energies of the mind’s and soul’s focus working within the vicinity of Your command to take precedence over us, in our selfish whims, and to work towards Your greater purposes for us, in Your divine mercy, and most generous, freely given grace.
And please my Lords, in this new day of embarking upon a new adventure with You, let us please dry our eyes, reset our minds, and realign our souls, to recalibrate our selves inside and out, body and spirit, mind and soul, to Your Holy Spirit, and to readjust any blurs or faults in the lenses of our perceptions, to be cleansed and renewed and enlightened in the faith that speaks of the love found in You.
And so as we adjust and readjust, we wipe clean the smudges of filth from an outlook, sharing its borders with mortality and sin so closely enrobed around this enshrined Spirit, so near as we are to the grime and defilement that we may see in the world outside our windows, viewed from the purity of the soul.
And so as we close our eyes and free our minds, from the immersion in the world that is bound to be if we do not take the time and the care to pull ourselves back from it, for this private renewal and reprieve in You, we allow You to infiltrate us, in our hearts and minds and deepest souls with Your Spirit, so that absorbed in Your holiness we become immersed in You, to cleanse us contrariwise from our inevitable soon-to-be immersion, in the dirt and debris and grime of the world.
And so one last time in these innermost recesses of mind, body, and soul claimed as one, we take leave from our surroundings and find our home in You, felt interiorly in the cavern of the mind and the great flowing rush of the cavity of the heart, as our private marital place of the mind’s eye in meditation, and the secret place of the soul’s rest in You—found indeed according to the assiduity with which we seek You, the glory of Your face.
And so as first once, then twice, then three times we take the time to find the moment, that central axis of clarity that rests like a rising Son or a crown “aplomb” over our houses of the soul and our lives, we find first once, then twice, then at a more perfect alignment to You in our center, thrice do we find Thee, as like a beam of Light or a ray of sunshine, floating and levitating and suspended right in mid-air, hovering within and about us in our midst.
And so as if in the mist and the cloud of Your rising within us, as You in the midst of us as we clear our souls out to You, You become as one with the center within us, as we take the time out to find You and to heed Your call. And so You too take the time out, of this temporal order and equation, for You exist beyond time, in the timeless eternity inherent in Your eternal name. And as without time or beyond it, as outside its reaches in Your boundless and unconfinable infinity, You reach us with Your reachlessness, and find us in the losing of our thoughts of self. And grasped as we are by the ungraspable, within this inexplicably-attained “unexplainable” state of mind, we surrender to Your mercy, and claim our souls as hotspots of Heaven in their immersion in the divine.
And so we are won over by this “miracle,” as a miracle is so defined, and levitating in a supernatural Light and glowing with a phosphorescence from within, we shelter You too within our halos, in this levitation with the divine. And so, “Mercy, Mercy, Mercy Me!” cries the Spirit from within, as at long last a soul shouts out to its Mate, in this ethereal echo of Your Word from within; as replete with candor in the cadence of Your crystalline cry, You define Yourself for us in these confines, of that word of “miracle,” felt within. And thus the LORD so reveals Himself, long sigh.