It's late, i'm tired. . . Life is smurfy

We have been brought up in an age where we have learned to define God. It has become our habit to define God in terms of our experience, rather than defining ourselves in terms of God's experience. Perhaps it is a problem ingrained in us because we are created in the image of a creative God. We have come to see ourselves as the apex of evolutionary perfection.
We have conscience, we have can think both rationally and abstractly. We have dominated and by right are deserving to govern ourselves and everything else in creation.
Governing and ownership are two completely different things, that we sometimes confuse. We have been charged to govern things here, and somehow we have confused the issue and are treating creation as though we own it.
Ownership has bred greed. How much can we own, how much can we make ours. What is it about ownership and possession that gives us comfort? It distracts us for a time from what is inevitable.
Greed.
In our greed we scrounge for more. Our lust to own helps us to forget God. But in collecting we rob from others. We hoard more than we can use, and we knowingly allow others to go without. Maybe the smurfs had it right. Perhaps, pure communism isn't as bad as it has been made out to be.

In a quiet place.

Tonight may have been one of the better nights of my life. Let me clarify. . . there was a two and one half hour span of shear bliss, tantamount to sitting in camp (Pico) without anyone around. It is spring, but it has been a warm spring up here. This evening i was on the phone with an old friend that i have reconnected with for the first time in years. As we talked i set up the green house with a camp chair, candle and some incense. It was amazing. It was peaceful. i watched the sunset on the mountains, the clouds and sky were pink and lavender. There were song birds out. As the sky darkened i lit the candles and the incense and just sat there in my camp chair. i prayed a bit, and just spent time enjoying the painting we live in. There was so much to be said about seeing God's creation. There were expressions of love, of peace, of power. There was song, and smell, and stillness. i left the green house that night, well after having watched the near full moon rise. It almost pained me to walk back into the house. Like getting out of a hot tub after having relaxed for some time. i felt good. Ready to take on the world - or just exist in it, and walk through the colors.

"Be still and know that i am God", says the creator. Tonight that was so.

Some Ramblings from Myspace. . .

Were you to check out my "blog subscriptions" you might notice that a couple of them don't match any names on my friends list. No i am not a stalker - at least not that i know of. i have always tried to view this whole blogging thing as an opportunity to write down unfinished thoughts., candid thoughts. i have tried to write for myself hoping to use this "journal" as an avenue to more completely explore some of the ramblings that haunt me. In the archives here are several blog postings that no one will ever unravel because they frankly don't make any sense. Reading them may bring one to believe that they were crafted by a trained circus monkey. Some blog postings here are reminiscent of the babbling thoughts of Vizzini. Not a stitch of coherence to them. Ultimately for all my attempts to be candid and to myself, it still floats through my mind that people read these things. Am i sometimes embarrassed? Yes, for my lack of proper spelling or punctuation. For my lack of intelligent thought. So what does all of this have to do with my subscriptions. . . They interest me. They keep me connected. People are very complex. We are who we are, but sometimes it is hard to truly see the whole spectrum of a person. No person can look into the mind of another. Men specifically tend to be more intimate and gentle, and honest when writing than they feel they can be in person. Once a thought is on paper (or screen) it is freed from the prison of the ego. It is out and there are no more borders to hold it in. Nothing for it to hide behind. And so i like to read what people think. Tonight i found out that someone that in fact i am only now getting close to has a blog outside of Myspace country. She is someone that up until recently i only knew superficially, but as i read her blogs, i have had the priviledge of getting to know her better. It is the same way with all of the blogs that i subscribe to and read regularly. i have the opportunity to see into the souls of other people. Something meaty, something real. It is awesome, because it connects people in some strange abstract way. But like i rely on musicians to help me express myself through song (i can't write songs or play them to save my life), i have found that i rely on others to help me explore the human experience. my friends write with styles totally unique to them, but beautiful, and different. Their writings sometimes resonate with my soul, though i could never write with the same voice - nor am i meant to. Perhaps that is why i so enjoy reading their thoughts. It appeals to the adventurer in me. Their writings allow me to explore parts of the human experience i would otherwise have no way of reaching. i honestly don't really pay attention to the people that read these pages. Well, not that is, before this morning. i didn't realize that there were people that subscribed to this (poor you). i was flattered to find out that people do read these blubbering. Please keep in mind though, my thoughts are seldom complete, especially if i am just writing them down. my hope is that someway, somehow my thoughts help others in the same way others help me. In an age of technology it seems that the tools that we use to be more connected only help to distance us really. So the one consolation prize is that to some measure we are able to find a means of getting to be deep, real, and intimate with one another in spite of our distance and disconnectedness.

It's a girl. . .

Well, verdict is in - It's a girl.

i wasn't sure what i would really think about it all, but i am happy. Yeah, i may be a little sarcastic and spin yarns about how my little sister tortured me through childhood, or how i dread having two women in the house when the teen years set in, but truth be told, i am quite excited. Now i wont have to wonder what it would have been like to have a "daddy's girl", and i will get to give her away at her wedding.
The bad news is that poor girl is stuck with me as a father. i guess we will see who ends up in more therapy sessions. My only hope is that she will embrace Jesus the way that he embraces us. i have great hopes for all of the kids, and hope that they will simply love God.