Tuesday, November 25, 2008

Dreams of Jonah

I dreamt of you last night, my son.
You lay sleeping softly on my chest, utterly oblivious of your mysterious actions, unaware of your own subtlety. You unknowingly liberated me by your simple existence, freeing me from the chains of my selfishness.

You are, my little Jonah, the synthesis of love.
You are the emission that bears witness of love’s union and further initiates love’s unfolding.
You are the culmination of ocean and earth; the breaking wave that consummates their wedlock. The roar of their interaction resounds with your delicate movements, rhythmically echoing love’s aria. Their fervent melody reverberates in your infant voice. The ocean breathes you, the earth receives you, and El Roi is the blanketing expanse of stars overhead, emitting His radiant approval.

He’s glorified at your arrival.

Friday, November 21, 2008

Insight from Emerson

"Music takes us out of the actual and whispers to us dim secrets that startle our wonder as to who we are, and for what, whence, and whereto."

-Ralph Waldo Emerson

Thursday, November 20, 2008

Journeying into the depths of the Psalter

Perhaps one of the most beautiful and refreshing things about the Psalms is that the spirit of apathy is nowhere to be found. In it contains the full gamut of human emotion, from the extreme frustration of a soul amidst catastrophe in question of the very character of God, to the broken spirit of the sinful man begging against the abandonment of the Spirit’s presence, to the psalmist wading in the goodness of the Almighty with the very taste of God in his mouth. And apathy is nowhere to be found. There’s such an awareness of God, even when questions are all that can escape the lips of the psalmist. You can sense God ready to break through, even in the midst of the doubt. God give us the same raw awareness of you…

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

Truth Christening

The search for truth consumes me. Its veracity beckons me through the darkness of silent, empty streets. I’m summoned towards the unknown, but gently calmed by a recognizable Comfort, that “Notorious Illuminator”, as Merton once whispered. I loiter momentarily in front of the shadowy windows that bear witness to the credos of my past. They murmur of past instruction, but only induce me further into the mysteries that wait ahead. Truth invites the vagrant.

I know the veil that hides the secrets; the darkness that waits to envelop, like Abraham’s dream. A whisper that cuts through the silence, uttering the inexpressible phrases only my heart can decipher. My attention is gathered. My surrender is secured.
“I AM” is spoken.