She tripped down the path deeper into the leafy gorge. Where did it go she didn’t know but wasn’t that half the fun? The sunflowers soared high above her head here at the top of the path but as she descended she noticed the light wasn’t able to make its way quite as easily to the rocky path. Still though there was enough light to see by, a kind of golden green light that is only present in places such as this where sunlight is filtered down by the kind beneficence of the still green leaves of late summer. The girl looked up at the patches of blue above her head and smiled. She couldn’t feel the sun on her skin anymore and that was counted as a minor relief as these things go. The hike to this gorge had been a long one and through a vale where few trees stood. The midday sun had beat down upon her and though she had enough water for the journey, it had not been an easy walk in this sub-tropical clime. And so now in this little side excursion? She counted it a blessing to feel the delights of shade. But this path – where did it lead? Clearly it had been walked before though perhaps not for a fortnight or two. Little creepers stretched across the path in places and weeds were starting to grow high for true. Yet this path was placed here it seemed of purpose and the rocks were not natural to this place. Who had come here before her? And where were their past ghosts leading her to? A place of rest assuredly, but would it be more akin to a graveyard or a pleasant grove? She hoped the latter, though surely graveyards were not a bad place to wander through now and then. Still though she had a vision of a bower where perhaps someone had placed a thoughtful few rocks to perch. She had a book in her backpack she’d been saving for just such. But as she descended the path in its mild dancing fashion she noted now a new scent rose to her nose. Her skin tingled as she imagined a garden of wild roses, however improbably that seemed. But hark now what was that. There was a trickle of smoke before her, perhaps as from a cookfire. Had someone else come before her to claim the graces of this sacred place? How dared they? She had been oh so eager for a quiet place to walk and think and pray. And now around the bend her slowing steps brought her and there afore her she saw a face. The last she had expected to see though it was the face that burned glory in her dreams. What is this madness? That last rose to her lips and she blushed to hear her voice. Then her shame fled and along with it her fear and she felt the calm that came with being known. Oh dear child welcome. Sit down with me and let’s feast together as we talk of many things. The girl felt tears run down her cheeks but it was not for sadness that she wept. She walked forward to where the man sat by the fire and she looked in wonder all around. There was a bower true and a little stream and then of course the fire over which a fowl roasted. And a loaf of bread sliced and ready for toasting and even yes, a bottle of wine which seemed as if it was meant for sharing. She looked in awe again at the face of the one who had spoken and said my lord i came seeking but didn’t know i’d find you. And he said surely those who seek find and to those who ask will it be given. Sit at my feet and learn from me and lay down your burden and rest. And so it was in that gorge that day whereupon that girl learned what it meant to discover the pearl of great price. And so it was and so it ever shall be and so someday shall our joy be made full when we upon that same face gaze.
Month: August 2025
Fever Dreams
Some book thoughts.
51. Anne of Green Gables by L.M. Montgomery. Such a lovely, sweet book and surely one of my favourite books to read if I simply want to read something beautiful. I think this book will always have a special place in my heart. I wish there were more books like this in the world, ones that point to the good and right and true while still recognizing the tinge of melancholy that is not entirely absent from even the sweetest climes. Oh I love this book! I do recognize part of my love for it is partly nostalgia – yes, I can still hear the dialogue from the old 1934 black and white movie – but still yet I cannot deny how much joy this book brings to my heart. I also want to state that this book is absolutely hilarious and I may or may not have laughed out loud several times as I was reading. This book is a treasure and a sheer delight.
Dialogue Part Two
Consider my friend, consider the truths upon which my feet are planted. I smiled and said to her that’s a pretty bold opening line. And she tilted her head and looked into my eyes and said I know but it’s because I care for you. And not in a melodramatic sappy way or the way in which you might write poetry and ask me to be your valentine. I care for your eternal soul and so of course I’m going to be dramatic yet no less than true. I come to tell you about the truth in which I believe and have my whole life bound up with because I want you to know this same truth too. But ok I answered I know you’re a Christian and I understand that you have these beliefs in the God who you said saved your soul. But even so it’s just a religion for all that and though I’m glad for you what does this have to do with me? When I’m a person who is just as – or nearly – as good as you and I think deserve a good life too. See that’s the problem she whispered now, her eyes glittering in predestined passion. What do we deserve when all is said and done? What do we deserve when our lives go down with setting sun and smile turns to frown as our bodies morph to dust and ash and our souls cry aloud? Why don’t say hell or any such ridiculous fundamental scare tactic I rolled my eyes as I sounded this rather impressive rhetorical line upon her. You land before me upon the shore she says yes you preempt my lines. All I’m trying to say is that I believe in a God divine a God who made us and who when all is said and done owns us for it is for him for who our lives were devised. And how have we answered him at the end of all things? We spit in his face and say our lives are ours and we shall surely keep them. And he says of course and grants us our way and so we toss the chain more firmly over our own shoulders and we self satisfied proceed on as slaves ending up where we’ve said we most want to be. We end up alone and on our own and apart from God forever. For we have declared we want no part of our Maker. And we end up exactly where we deserve – parted from God forever. Is that what you want? Well maybe I reply a bit abashed at the fervor of her answer. But is this what Christianity is? A bully God bullying me to want to be with Him like some psycho girlfriend? Why would I want to be with a sadistic all powerful being that can’t even condescend to just understand where I’m coming from and treat with me on my level? Wow ok. She almost laughed but instead eyes wide replied. There’s some really profound questions there and I begin to think God is working in you even now drawing you closer to him. How do I answer? Well perhaps consider if there is a God – what do you know about him? Instead of assuming him a monster, what if you think of Him as the pinnacle of infinity and the bearer of attributes that proclaim him more perfect and beautiful than your mind can dare to grasp? And what if he knows that’s what’s best for you is to be in relationship with this God and to be his child? Perhaps he knows there is nothing better than to know and be known by God. And so of course he asks you to come. And perhaps consider that in his desire to call us all to him he knows that we cannot in our weakness and frailty consider the immensity of God and so instead he does condescend to us and does treat us on our level and in fact God steps down and makes himself as one of us to show his love? And in this love he asks that you simply come to him and acknowledge who he is and acknowledge who you are and in this knowledge of yourself and reaching knowledge of who he is you bow before his divine majesty and say i’m not enough. You are. For who is this one who condescends? You know who I’m about to say. Yes I know I answer finally, my cheeks flushed a bit as my world starts to shake between the still settling eternal aftershocks. You’re going to say Jesus. Are you not? And she nods and bites her lip and says yes. Jesus. He is the Son of God and God Himself and is the one who came to condescend and offer to you his hand. But first he hung on a cross and was pierced and bled and died and then yes as you’ve heard – he rose again! The Lord of glory walked this earth as man and did it so that you might know God true. And if you bow and kneel and say Lord forgive me, I’m a sinner and I believe in you then life life everlasting is yours and not life apart but life with God for true. Come my friend. Come to know the truth. For what is truth? Jesus Christ the Lord God made flesh the one who died for you.
Rhymes in Red
I walked up to the solitary tree and lifted my hand up high. Even with all my effort, my fingers came a little shy of the apple that I craved. Yet what did I answer back when my friend asked me if I was giving up? Not yet I shouted. Not yet! Instead I stretched my toes and wavered higher and bit my lip as I focused my eyes on the prize. Yet with all that I was barely closer. Perhaps two inches, perhaps a foot. I’m really not that good at judging distances I said. And there we come to my problem, my greedy eyes and my foolish pride and that auburn fruit that taunted me that I would not give up for all the world though its riches offered. So I leaped again and still yet I seemed no nearer. What is this madness I muttered to myself. And my friend she offered a hint less than helpful. Something like try harder although possibly in language more of poetry than prose. And I laughed and told her that she might have a go herself if she thought she’d do better. She walked over and gave me a quick hug and then glared at the apple with all the fierceness her brown eyes could muster. And what do you know but that the apple quailed before her and with barely a whisper of a breeze the bough dipped and bounced once and twice and the third time her hand closed upon it and pulled firmly. In astonishment I looked at the fruit within her hand. What devilry is this I whispered. Nothing to do with devils she smiled. More of angels I should say. But how? I tried and tried and tried. I gave it all my effort! And there you go she said her eyebrow quirking in that amused fashion she has. With this tree your effort will avail you not. Instead you must simply look and plead. And see? She lifted up the apple to her lips and took a bite. This fruit tastes good. It tastes old and new all at once as if it was the fruit all other fruit wishes it could be. It’s the original model and yet untainted. Taste and see.
Weight of Glory
My dreams are strange ones. The late afternoon light shimmers with a glam only a sultry summer day can summon. And though soon I must dart outside and take the groceries from the driver, for now I rest my hand upon the rim of the perspiring glass and thank the Lord for this cold drink of water. There is little that quenches thirst better on an August day though so many other beverages love to flaunt their wares and tempt one with a solidly executed ad campaign. Yet I know better. Water is what I want and water is what I’ll drink. Of course I do not harbor any silly hopes that this water was dipped from a cold mountain stream and placed in a well insulated thermos simply to be transported two thousand miles to the grocery store down the street. Still yet. It’s water. And it’s pure. Well, relatively. Sometimes it’s best to not interrogate the process. Here now, say now. Where was I? Mentioning my dreams as I recline on the couch and consider the giants that have stepped before. Ah yes. I love to let my eyes play upon the page and eagerly does my mind thrill to the thought of reading of those men and women of the faith and seeing their words of witness will surely never cease to bring me to my knees as I consider and pray and ask for what does my God have for me. Surely not is my fate the fate of giants and not for that do I hope. For with that fate comes a chalice of which one must dare to drink no matter what swirls within. Do not ask what it contains for one may not know before the proper time. And do I ask to drink such? I quail before the throne even though I see even now the coal lifted above my lips in anticipation of this severe proclamation. I say it’s folly to pray for such though very possibly this cup may yet to me be given. Instead of tracing my finger upon the path and nodding that surely such is mine, instead I lift my eyes to heaven and consider the words of heaven and say oh lord make my will as thine. For what do I pray? I know not, yet just ask that the will of God be done. Oh Spirit pray for me. And when all is said and done, may it be said that I was faithful, that I served as heaven’s son. Oh Lord have mercy upon me and let me see thy face. And you respond someday my child. Someday. And I lift the cup to my lips and drink eagerly of the water within. The heat outside is oppressive sure. But for now I turn the page and breathe a prayer. Hear me my Father. And in the pages of the word I see the light of glory reflected in truths divine. Listen my son. Listen.
Equilibrium Transformed
A few thoughts on my latest read!
50. Enjoy Your Prayer Life by Michael Reeves. One of the best books on prayer I’ve ever read. And that’s saying something – a very small book of forty pages that is really more of a booklet than full scale book! This book isn’t trying to be a large treatise on prayer or attempting to explain all the theological assumptions and implications of prayer. No, this is simply a book to aid and encourage a Christian in what it means to talk to God. How good it is to remember that I am a child of God and thus have the right (and joy!) to approach God and simply talk. Sometimes the guilt and shame overcome us and we feel oh so unworthy. But if we are children and understand that we have a Father who delights to hear his children, why would we not want to pray to him? And sometimes we feel as if our words are feeble and that we aren’t good at praying and we’re afraid we will say the wrong things. So what a delight to know that the Spirit is interceding with us and helping us to pray even when we do not have the words to say! This book is a grounding, a helpful aid to understand why we pray and why we should pray. It’s not going to give you all the tactics and techniques – there are other books for that. Rather, this is a book to warm your heart as you remember what God has done for you – grant you forever life with him through the death and resurrection of his son Jesus Christ – and thus rejoice in considering how wonderful a gift it is that we might talk to our God every waking moment of our lives. This book was a wonderful reminder and encouragement for my soul. Oh how my heart was encouraged as I read this book and what a longing rose in my heart to pray more to my blessed God.
Something Weird 