March 2012
30 posts
“But often, in the world’s most crowded streets,
But often, in the din of strife,
There rises an unspeakable desire
After the knowledge of our buried life;
A thirst to spend our fire and restless force
In tracking out our true, original course;
A longing to inquire
Into the mystery of this heart which beats
So wild, so deep in us—to know
Whence our lives come and where they go.
And many a man in his own breast then delves,
But deep enough, alas! none ever mines.” —“The Buried Life” by Matthew Arnold (1852)
But often, in the din of strife,
There rises an unspeakable desire
After the knowledge of our buried life;
A thirst to spend our fire and restless force
In tracking out our true, original course;
A longing to inquire
Into the mystery of this heart which beats
So wild, so deep in us—to know
Whence our lives come and where they go.
And many a man in his own breast then delves,
But deep enough, alas! none ever mines.” —“The Buried Life” by Matthew Arnold (1852)
Stars
The Weepies
Stars - The Weepies
A lullaby for you. Goodnight.
Back and forth we ply these oars
They move in time and get entwined
Green with joy then gray with sorrow
Ripened fruit that falls tomorrow
Filling us with brillianceAll it takes is a little faith and a lot of heart
Sweetheart
I can't wait
to purge my Facebook of acquaintances when I graduate.
Heart to Tell
The Love Language
Heart to Tell - The Love Language
We will know, Time will tell just like the tides
They ebb and flow
Oh honey let me in or let me go
A fun crowd-pleaser for a summer mood.
“Beauty and grace are performed whether or not we will or sense them. The least we can do is try to be there.”
—
Annie Dillard’s Pilgrim at Tinker Creek
A Prayer for the Lonely
While searching for an address, I found a few old love letters. Filled with old promises and forgotten feelings. It stung to read what he said he wanted from “us” and the never-realized resolutions to work for “us,” to be committed to his faith.
The words carry a certain time’s feeling, not an enduring promise. I placed them in the wastebasket. The words are empty; now they’ll mix with apple cores and popcorn kernels, decomposing with other remains of what one once ingested.
I no longer miss him. But I do miss companionship. Each time I do, I pray. I trust that God will provide a friend to share my life with, but His timing is not for that to be now. I must be learning something.
I refuse to think of this time as “in-between.” Instead, my life is moving and I must move along with it. I was born alone, I’ll die alone. I am just as functional, maybe more so. It’s just a fight to believe that I am whole.
If you feel this way, pray with me.
God, you have created me. You ordained my life and you sustain me now. Though I can’t understand it and I certainly have a hard time believing it, you love me personally. I praise you, Creator of the Universe, and I give myself to you with all of my loneliness. You have shown me how unfulfilled I am apart from you; please make me whole by making yourself and your will the center of my life. You deserve all of me and all my worship. Here I am. I love you. Amen.
