I've been reading some Job lately. That is one tricky book. What do you do with all the "godly council" when you know in the end that God just refutes it all anyway?
The thing that stands out to me the most is that God always gets the last word. Not just in the sense of that whole "refuting the godly council" thing, but in the sense that Satan doesn't have any authority that has not been ultimately passed through Heaven first. I like it.
I woke up very early the other morning with a bizarre thought sequence running through my brain. Without going into too much detail, in the end, I pretty much doubted the existence of God and everything I have ever believed about Him. Yep. I doubted God. Not that there's anything wrong with that. I think it's good to question things from time to time. But it seems that I am to a point in my life where it is almost as if I were doubting my own existence. He is so real to me; I cannot separate the person I am now from His influence in my life, and yet a moment of emotional vulnerability (and perhaps an extreme lack of sleep) had me questioning that which I already knew to be true. That's where things get a little crazy. It isn't that we can claim to know it all- to have the absolute revelation of God and Truth; I think we have been given brains for a reason, and thinking something through logically is sort of a gift. The truth reveals itself. But to say "I do not have a hand" when you know perfectly well that you do is just... nonsense. Anyway, He is gracious. I just lay there and started remembering the miraculous things I have seen Him do- the ways He has spoken, delivered me, provided for me... the people He has brought into my life, the crazy "coincidences" and the clear, quiet voice that cuts through the chaos.... He is so real.
Back to Job.... Yes. Our adversary is on a very short leash. And that's all I'm going to say about that.
Feast of Heaven
Sunday, February 13, 2005
Thursday, February 03, 2005
Response to Archibald Lampman's "Voices of Earth"
(J.A. Hammond)
I think about the cosmic song-
the sound of planets, galaxies
the unheard song of light and speed,
the lonely hum of gravity
What grace is this- that I possess
some vain existence of my own,
that I should touch the dust of earth
supported by some force unknown?
That there is more beyond this life, beyond my home, beyond my skin,
that I could live without the touch of One who hems the ocean in?
Above the planet made of clay,
its counterparts and atmospheres,
a joy too rich for human words
and grief too deep for human tears, with passionate humility
reside in Truth-
that one could see beyond this veiled existence
and the mortal dust of vanity.
(J.A. Hammond)
I think about the cosmic song-
the sound of planets, galaxies
the unheard song of light and speed,
the lonely hum of gravity
What grace is this- that I possess
some vain existence of my own,
that I should touch the dust of earth
supported by some force unknown?
That there is more beyond this life, beyond my home, beyond my skin,
that I could live without the touch of One who hems the ocean in?
Above the planet made of clay,
its counterparts and atmospheres,
a joy too rich for human words
and grief too deep for human tears, with passionate humility
reside in Truth-
that one could see beyond this veiled existence
and the mortal dust of vanity.

