The last episode of MASH season 9. I love that show.
Musing on Men and Rivers
A man sits by a river in the pre-dawn gloom. It argues a distempered head to so soon quit his bed, but the rest he seeks is not found in dreams. In this daybreak quietude, he seeks a sacred solitude. He’s unsure, really, what he is to seek, knowing only that he must be alone to seek it. And truly, he is unsure of whom he will meet along the way. Like the river that flows not far...
I made fun of hipsters before it was cool to make...
Acuff, Jon. Occupation: Genius →
Nothing is Futile
“Behold! I tell you a mystery. We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised imperishable, and we shall be changed. For this perishable body must put on the imperishable, and this mortal body must put on immortality. When the perishable puts on the imperishable, and...
“For my children, I pray: Even in their sleep, Lord, turn their hearts to You. And when I wake them with Your Word, sow that seed in humble, open soil. And send its roots down to their inner heart and make an oak of faith. O, Christ, take my children for your servants. Obliterate rebellion from their hearts. And may they grow to godly adulthood, full of love to You and love to...
Found my wool cap!!!
Best. Day. Ever. It’s like having a best friend back from the dead.
Sometimes on my way to class, I just want to yell, or sing, or jump up and down, or do some sort of strange approximation of dance since I have no rhythm. It’s usually before my first class of the day, on sunny nice days, that aren’t too humid. I’ll take a sip of my coffee and suddenly realize how lucky I am, how beautiful my surroundings are, and what an awesome God I serve....
I don't understand, but this is way cool. →
Working my way through Ranier Maria Rilke’s Letters to a Young Poet right now. I love it. Even though it’s a translation (Rilke was German) the words ring with power and flow with an eloquence I can as yet only dream about in my own writing. However, as I read, I am constantly struck by the utter futility of the philosophy that Rilke advocates. He offers no hope beyond a flimsy...
Why are you cast down, O my soul? And why are you in turmoil within me? Hope in...– Psalm 42
I have good parents.
Got an email last night from my Bible teacher from Freshman year of high school. That’s awesome. I contacted him last fall, because I knew he had left CSCS to become a pastor in an extremely rural area, and that type of ministry appeals to me. We’ve been emailing back and forth since then. He doesn’t reply to emails all that quickly (I get the feeling life is very busy), but his...
O, sweet Helper, pour thy balm upon these wounds of mine. I pray thee lay thy golden calm upon this heart that pines. My hurts run deeper than I know My tears fall like a flood And where is healing here below, ‘cept steeped in thy salvation blood?
Just started reading Rilke’s Letters to a Young Poet. I. Must. Write.
No more the rising sun shall gild the morn, Nor evening Cynthia fill her silver...– Alexander Pope, Messiah
Glorious music. If you’ve never listened to him, do. Now. I rediscover him every few months, and every time he blows my mind.
Hallelujah! All I have is Christ. Hallelujah! Jesus is my life.– Jordan Kauflin, All I Have is Christ
How sweet my lot as a servant humble, I look to the Lord for my every need. My Jesus hath promised, I shall not stumble, His right hand upholds me wherever he leads. He walks with me in the greenest pastures, He carries me when the darkness draws nigh; My deepest joy is to know my master: My Jesus, the Spirit, and Father on high.
Trevor: She was saying that circumcision was one of the seals of our Christianity, that we had to keep the whole law. Me: Did you whip out that passage in Romans 2? Trevor: Did you just use the phrase “whip out” in that context? Not ok. Up until this point, that was a very edifying conversation.