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January 31, 2006
"greatest philosopher in our nation's history"
the title of my blog is how Heidi (whose informational authority goes unquestioned in the yellow house) described Jonathan Edwards. While reading I am unable to avoid sharing the following:
From his "Personal Narrative":
"From about that time, I began to have a new kind of apprehensions and ideas of Christ, and the work of redemption, and the glorious way of salvation by him. I had an inward, sweet sense of these things, that at times came into my heart; and my soul was led away in pleasant views and contemplations of them. And my mind was greatly engaged, to spend my time in reading and meditating on Christ; and the beauty and excellency of his person, and the lovely way of salvation, by free grace in him. I found no books so delightful to me, as those that treated of these subjects. Those words used to be abundantly with me, "I am the rose of sharon and the lily of the valleys." The words seemed to me, sweetly to represent, the loveliness and beauty of Jesus Christ."
-and later in the narrative...-
"I had then, and at other times, the greatest delight in the holy scriptures, of any book whatsoever. Oftentimes in reading it, every word seemed to touch my heart. I felt a harmony between something in my heart, and those sweet and powerful words. I seemed often to see so much light, exhibited by every sentence, and such a refreshing ravishing food communicated, that I could not get along in reading. Used oftentimes to dwell long on one sentence, to see the wonders contained in it; and yet almost every sentence seemed to be full of wonders."
Posted by tacyjane at 10:38 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
January 27, 2006
mom help
---some good stuff from a forwarded email I received today. this comes from Libba's mom, who sent Lib some ideas about idolatry that were really true/helpful---
Here are 7 questions/ideas that can be helpful in exposing our
idols: I've written my answers in there..
1. When I think "I'll be happy if only.. " , that if only is an idol.
2. What sends me quickly into depression? Responses from
people that don't make me feel good.. or NON responses from
people..
3. What do I avoid or seek at all costs? avoid Conflict and/or seek peace with
everyone
4. What do I dream about night and day? If I'm not forced to do
something, what do I do?
5. What do I pray for? (Hint .. anything other than seeking my Father's
face shows me whether or not I'm loving him first and foremost)
6. Whom MUST I please?
7. On my deathbed, what will I consider has made my life worthwhile?
Posted by tacyjane at 11:05 AM | Comments (2) | TrackBack
January 25, 2006
here's something i can say
since christmas, waking up each morning feels like christmas all over again.
Posted by tacyjane at 11:52 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
fruit of the spirit
(I wrote this a few years ago)
Spirit, source of fruit.
love. I hold others in a state that’s their best
joy. I am quick to be restored to union with my God
peace. I have equilibrium in this broken world
patience. I wait expectantly in hope
kindness. I respect, honor, and encourage
goodness. I have an outside source for right
faithfulness. I will be here to trust
gentleness. I turn away wrath with a soft answer
self-control. I am strong and alert.
Learning to practice until it comes natural.
Posted by tacyjane at 11:41 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
January 23, 2006
go see linnea
i LOVE the song linnea posted on her blog today (last night?). everybody go see her blog.
Posted by tacyjane at 11:20 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
listen to the mother
Hear Antony, or listen to samples on itunes.
see his face and feel his (/her)transgender deep within you.
Posted by tacyjane at 10:58 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
January 20, 2006
antony [of antony and the johnsons] scares me
Antony makes an appearance in Devendra Banhart's new video as the "Mother of the World."
i do like the song. and antony's music is disturbingly sweet.
Posted by tacyjane at 04:56 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Neruda in the morning
POETRY
by Pablo Neruda
And it was at that age...Poetry arrived
in search of me. I don't know, I don't know where
it came from, from winter or a river.
I don't know how or when,
no, they were not voices, they were not
words, nor silence,
but from a street I was summoned,
from the branches of night,
abruptly from the others,
among violent fires
or returning alone,
there I was without a face
and it touched me.
I did not know what to say, my mouth
had no way
with names
my eyes were blind,
and something started in my soul,
fever or forgotten wings,
and I made my own way,
deciphering
that fire
and I wrote the first faint line,
faint, without substance, pure
nonsense,
pure wisdom
of someone who knows nothing,
and suddenly I saw
the heavens
unfastened
and open,
planets,
palpitating planations,
shadow perforated,
riddled
with arrows, fire and flowers,
the winding night, the universe.
And I, infinitesmal being,
drunk with the great starry
void,
likeness, image of
mystery,
I felt myself a pure part
of the abyss,
I wheeled with the stars,
my heart broke free on the open sky.
Posted by tacyjane at 09:51 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
January 18, 2006
in the wild places
True solitude is found in the wild places..
From Wendell Berry: WHAT ARE PEOPLE FOR?...
"There is the bad work of pride. There is also the bad work of despair- done poorly out of the failure of hope or vision.
Despair is the too-little of responsibility, as pride is the too-much.
The shoddy work of despair, the pointless work of pride, equally betray Creation. They are wastes of life.
For despair there is no forgiveness, and for pride none. Who in loneliness can forgive?
Good work finds the way between pride and despair. It graces with health. It heals with grace. It preserves the given so that it remains a gift. By it, we lose loneliness: we clasp the hands of those who go before us, and the hands of those who come after us…
And by it we enter solitude, in which we also lose loneliness. Only discord can come of the attempt to share solitude. True solitude is found in the wild places, where one is without human obligation. One’s inner voices become audible. One feels the attraction of one’s most intimate sources. In consequence, one responds more clearly to others’ lives. The more coherent one becomes within oneself as a creature, the more fully one enters into the communion of all creatures. One returns from solitude laden with the gifts of circumstance.
And there is no escaping that return. From the order of nature we return to the order- and the disorder- of humanity. From the larger circle we must go back to the smaller, the smaller within the larger and dependent on it.
There is finally the pride of thinking oneself without teachers. The teachers are everywhere. What is wanted is a learner. In ignorance is hope. If we had known the difficulty, we would have learned even so little."
i have been thinking a lot about this concept: that, in solitude, "one's inner voice becomes audible." i think if you aren't careful to carve out an inidividual path, you'll piggyback on someone else's and eventually they'll get tired of carrying you. you're dropped, and you'll be on the middle of some path that you can't navigate, because it isn't your path and you've been relying on someone else's familiarity with the path to get places.
Posted by tacyjane at 01:34 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
January 17, 2006
absent
gosh. words are so wordish. the worditude of words is still, essentially, wordy. even though there are a few good words out there. yesterday in methods of literary study, one very bright shelly raised her hand and made a comment about language:
"in a book 'countering depression with exercise,' the author says that while running, a person can reach a high where the endorphines cause the brain to reach a language-less state. this is why exercise can be healing."
this is not an exact quote.
Posted by tacyjane at 11:49 AM | Comments (2) | TrackBack
January 15, 2006
just too much
since the break, my mind has been too ______ (word?) to post. i feel _______. i have too many______ thoughts? to have a good deep thought, and too many_____ words? are spinning for me to have a good word to say. so here i am, at a loss. lost. postless. i am post-blank. i am post-post. but i am not post-modern. slipping, but not there. yet.
i recently converted to the hoppy's fellowship center, (the alternative to meeting friends at church) along with everyone else my age who lives in st. elmo.
Posted by tacyjane at 02:42 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack
January 06, 2006
is it me?
is it me, or did it snow last night? the mountain-cars are entering our nether world with whiteness accumulated on the hood, some with almost an inch or more. (!)
for my first of three wishes, i would have it snow more, and a bit down here in st elmo.
today i enjoy the last weekday of break. i saw my old youth group community this morning at a 'sip and see' for missy and her 4 month old baby. now i plan to read and drink much coffee.
Posted by tacyjane at 12:03 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack