Christians who have put God to the test by vulnerably surrendering to his will, examining their motives regularly to see where they are protecting themselves rather than ministering, are tasting the goodness of God.
There are thoughts which are prayers. There are moments when, whatever the posture of the body, the soul is on its knees.
Your handwriting. The way you walk. Which china pattern you choose. It’s all giving you away. Everything you do shows your hand. Everything is a self-portrait. Everything is a diary.
There was a riptide at one of these beaches. Because of it I stayed at the shoreline. Not wanting to visit the ocean in vain I kneeled down at the point in the sand just after where the waves break and wash up onto the shore. When a new fan of water would start to quickly run up the beach I would bow my whole body and let the water wash over me. I did this again and again for about a half hour. It’s interesting how nature points us to God. When we kneel in prayer we kneel before someone who is so much greater than the ocean. And he is gentle just like the water at the shore. Always ready to wash us again if we’ll only but kneel. It is a physical shadow of a spiritual reality of which there are so many. Later, I sat under a waterfall and tried to catch water in my hands but I couldn’t contain it all.
Moods - Love Is Real
The classiest tastiest guitar playing I’ve heard in a while.
Must listen, must listen.
Once you get past all the Mr. Vinsons, you’re going to start getting closer and closer—that is, if you want to, and if you look for it and wait for it—to the kind of information that will be very, very dear to your heart. Among other things, you’ll find that you’re not the first person who was ever confused and frightened and even sickened by human behavior. You’re by no means alone on that score, you’ll be excited and stimulated to know. Many, many men have been just as troubled morally and spiritually as you are right now. Happily, some of them kept records of their troubles. You’ll learn from them—if you want to. Just as someday, if you have something to offer, someone will learn something from you. It’s a beautiful reciprocal arrangement. And it isn’t education. It’s history. It’s poetry.
'But they'll see me.' 'What does it matter if they do?' 'I'd rather die.' 'But you've died already. There's no good trying to go back to that.'
The Solid Person beckoning the ghost follow him to the mountains and become whole.
The Great Divorce, C.S. Lewis
You know that scene at the end of the movie The Beach. Where DiCaprio’s character is just back after his crazy adventure in Thailand - sitting in an internet cafe writing it all down. That’s me right now.
A throwback that captures and displays the continual summer vibe. (at M A L I B U D R I V E W A Y)
You guys have helped me raise $1160. Thank you so much!
I only have $1594 to go and then everything is covered.
If you want to help with my music mission to New Zealand.
You can visit this link. http://menashenzmissions.causevox.com
Many thanks, many loves!
So then you started reading the bible?" I asked. "Yes. We would eat chocolates and smoke cigarettes and read the bible, which is the only way to do it, if you ask me. Don, the bible is so good with chocolate. I always thought the bible was more of a salad thing, you know, but it isn’t. It is a chocolate thing.
He could still hear his father’s voice. —When you kick out for yourself, Stephen—as I daresay you will one of these days—remember, whatever you do, to mix with gentle-men. When I was a young fellow I tell you I enjoyed myself. I mixed with fine decent fellow. Everyone of us could do something. One fellow had a good voice, another fellow was a good actor, another could sing a good comic song, another was a good oarsman or a good racket player, another could tell a good story and so on. We kept the ball rolling anyhow and enjoyed ourselves and saw a bit of life and we were none the worse of it either. But we were all gentlemen, Stephen—at least I hope we were—and bloody good honest Irishmen too. That’s the kind of fellows I want you to associate with, fellows of the right kidney. I’m talking to you as a friend, Stephen. I don’t believe a son should be afraid of his father. No, I treat you as your grandfather treated me she I was a young chap. We were more like brothers than father and son. I’ll never forget the first day he caught me smoking. I was standing at the end of the South Terrace one day with some maneens like myself and sure we thought we were grand fellows because we had pipes stuck in the corners of our mouths. Suddenly the governor passed. He didn’t say a word, or stop even. But the next day, Sunday, we were out for a walk together and when we were coming home he took out his cigar case and said: —By the by, Simon I didn’t know you smoked, or something like that. Of course I tried to carry it off as best I could. —If you want a good smoke, he said, try one of these cigars. An american captain made me a present of them last night in Queenstown.* Stephen heard his father’s voice break into a laugh which was almost a sob.