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ta_avah_imma
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Name: Emilie
Gender: Female
Interests: Cello, Coffee, Judaism, Israel, Art, Music, Food, Decorating, Language, Reading, Writing, Perier, International Affairs. I am pretty ecclectic, a lot interests me.
Expertise: Coffee, Cooking ummm, not sure.
Occupation: Shift Supervisor
Industry: Starbucks Coffee Company
Message: message me
Website: visit my website
Member Since:
7/6/2006
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magnificatMy soul reaches out to God.
My Spirit rejoices in my Saviour
God sees that the humble heart is open
And implants his vision into it.
We are wombs of the Divine
Through giving birth to vision all generations can be blessed.
Those who revere God will find her merciful
But the proud will see only judgements.
Those who empty themselves of selfishness will be lifted up to God,
But those who cling to power cannot be lifted.
Those who are satiated have no room to receive
But the hungry will be filled with good things.
Divine WombGod joined with Mary and created
The divine fertilised human
Nestling into her womb, nourished by her blood
God joins with us and creates
A divine planted idea, an inspiration
Which settles in us, and feeds
But after the ecstasy of impregnation
9 months of waiting, hoping, growing
The invisible inside, waiting to be born
And while we wait, difficulties arise
Herods try to destroy
Authorities try to rationalise
Husbands doubt,
While redemption gestates
We are all wombs of the divine
Pregnant with that which God envisions us
How will we feed it?
Who will it most resemble, us or God?
How long are we prepared to be patient?
We wait.
We wait
We wait for the invisible to become visible
For the seed to flourish
For vision to be born
Incarnation MeditationEmmanuel.
God with us.
Through torn sky shepherds spy heaven singing
And through this wound, God falls into hay screaming
Only astrologers scan outer depths to follow this bright trajectory
Burning up in my atmospheres.
Cold vacuums resisting God's re-entry.
Christ.
In very nature God.
Stripped of all vestures of Deity
No glory, no majesty, no power, no knowledge.
Abandoned by heaven.
The almighty, become so small as to be born human.
Receives gifts
The first reminders
Suggestions of an identity.
The saviour of the world.
Born in a 2-bit village, in a cave under the family home.
Ostracised by his ancestors.
His mother shamed.
Ignored by the religious.
Recognised only by farm-hands and foreign astrologers.
We welcomed God in the same way we dispatched him.
Deserted by friends
Rejected by the godly
Abandoned by God
Helpless
Exposed to the elements
And only 2 people to recognise him: a thief and an occupying soldier
The underclass. The foreigner.
In birth Christ was offered 3 gifts.
Gold for a king
Frankincense for a God
And Myrrh for a mortal.
In birth Christ was offered 3 gifts
But in death all gifts were refused.
In death Christ becomes gift.
Where are we this Christmas?
Are we Magi, searching in strange places for signs of God?
Are we offering gifts, unaware of their deeper meanings?
Are we the establishment, trying to shut out what we fear.
We are all of these.
But we are called to become the faithful wanderer.
To become the body of Christ.
Freely accepting gifts.
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| It wasn't fair. Too often it was Pamoria who felt she had been sent to Neverwinter, rather than Eldon. Eldon. Oh, she ached for Eldon. Each word whispered over the wind she caught and cherished as gold. And the letters. She most cherished the letters coming across the leagues as consistent as the rising of the moon. Though it rose red last dusk. As did the sun that morning, bringing the people the story of bloodshed having Stained the golden orb scarlet from the East. She prayed the stolen Life would wash away before reaching Eldon to the West in Neverwinter.She prayed again only for peace and blessing to reach the one she loves, despite knowing the ancient ways, knowing that honey only comes from rocks.
She smiled, sadly, thinking of her own rock and honey. To be left behind to the East. With unanswered questions and no one to ask. Or to ask, only to be shown the heavy fault in her ways. Irresponsible. Frivolous. Silly. How long had she worked against these titles of inferiority? Too long to let them bring tears to her. And yet they still did. And gave birth to more questions, questions about Hope and Future and Trust. Too, her dearest friend had stopped writing her letters. Pamoria received small snippets of word, scrawled on the corners of parchment ripped hastily from where ever Friend had been, too busy to sit and breath and write a proper conversation. But she had recently married. Surely some time soon, Friend would remember and send a longer word?
"Stop, Pamoria," she whispered to herself, "You're being Foolish. This is not about you. There are perfectly good reasons for all those rocks. They're not even really rocks! A pebble or two. Stop putting so much weight into such a small thing!"
"But I miss..." she gave answer to herself. "I miss."
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| What can I say about this space? Room after room of word, light, shadow, art, Prayer. Tucked in a run down area of Charlotte near “uptown.” Is a warehouse with 24/7 painted on the door. Walk in to music, beating with my heart, station after station of a place to wander and to pray. Post it notes stuck to a wall, “I forgive my father” “my husband” “John” “Myself” on and on and on. Another. Newspaper clippings of Charlotte’s top ten most caught drunk drivers. An area to sign up for “Justice” a community group with over five hundred names of those who fix the area houses, mow lawns for the disabled and elderly, cook meals, install dead bolts and peep holes, tutor all ages in language, computers, math and science. Do I want to sign up and help too? The Word talks more about defending the defenseless and giving to the poor than he does anything else.
I wander to the back of the house. A Velvet curtain and an old blue door. My breath catches as I enter. Something inside me (I know this sounds weird) knows my shoes need be removed. I must kneel in this place. I am a sinner. I hate God. I am selfish and lazy, and greedy and so much. And here is the water to wash all of that away. Here is the God who takes all of that and never looks again. Here is the Lamb who takes away the sins of the world! On hands and knees I cry to my Father-Who-Listens and feel as the warm pour of purification washes over and cleans my hands and lips and feet and hands. I am thankful. I have so much, eyes that see, and fingers that bend. Feet that walk, a mind that considers, a home, a bed, a car, clothes, a job, family, friends, God. So much. I pray, I sing, I read. “I love you, oh Lord, my strength.”
I stand to leave and (hear?) “sit with me awhile.” So I do. A chair in the corner. I lay back and (feel?) the arms of Him-Who-Is around me. His breath on my form. I feel awkward. Shouldn’t prayer have words? No. Just sit. Just cuddle. Just be. Like when Jeff and I cuddle, my mind clears and I rest. Shalom-rest. Out of the Peace-Place I realize my spirit whispering to Him, “I love you, I love you, I love you.” A silent mantra. And I realize I mean it.
I love you, oh Lord, my strength.
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| To drink or not to drink, this seems to be the question. The question posed and possed, and fought and growled from one Believer to the next. Christians stopped drinking in the early twentieth century. The Women’s Christian Temperance Union created the most force. In fighting for women’s rights, they won the right to vote, created safe houses for female orphans and abused women, they also shut down the saloons, pubs, and bar houses making it illegal to buy alcohol anywhere in the States. As law abiding citizens, Christians of the time followed the rules and did not buy, sell, or consume alcohol of any kind. Because of its continuing draw, bootleggers were born. The black market for booze entered the American market and speakeasies sprung up everywhere. Christians didn’t go because it was illegal. It was dangerous. It was breaking the law of the land, a law we, as Believers, are commanded to keep. The Women’s Christian Temperance Union, in its Crusade against that generation’s chosen reprobates, had created an uncontrollable war, similar the Crusades of her ancestors. The Country repealed the Eighteenth Amendment and the sale of alcohol became legal once more, like buying gun powder, sudaphed, or over sixty pounds of sugar. The Christians of the time, however, had moved from the disdain of seedy illegal speakeasies to the disdain of alcohol in general. Seeing the devastated, or just downright embarrassing effects of alcohol as the sin rather than the disobedience of the law of the land.
Now, to Paul, (the one from the New Covenant, wrote a good chunk of it.) Paul says that “everything is permissible, but not everything is beneficial.” Things like pork, Doritos, shellfish, Nutella, driving 100mph on a dark winding road in the mountains; these are things I would put on that list, things that are not necessarily against the law, but can hurt pretty badly, or lead to other hurtful things. Paul doesn’t make Timothy go through the ritual of circumcision, Cornelius allows Gentiles into his house, the church adds Christmas to its roster of acceptable holiday traditions. These are Believers making informed decisions regarding what is permissible (all things) and what is beneficial (not all things). ”Yeshua, (Jesus) put it like this, “Love the Lord your God with all your heart, and all you soul and all your might, and love your neighbor as yourself.” Augustine put it this way, “Love God and do as you will.” What the Messiah is trying to teach us, (and later Paul and Augustine expound upon) is that you can do whatever the hell you want, as long as it is done in loving both God and man.
Now, back to Ms, Frances Willard and her Christian Temperance Union. They loved God and in doing so, tried to make the world a better place. Ms. Willard did great things for women’s rights in America. Thanks to her, women can own property, vote, and prosecute men for molestation, rape, and physical abuse. Also thanks to Ms. Willard,
Evangelical Christians still don’t, for the most part, drink alcohol. When asked why, most of these Believers will report that we don’t drink because it leads to drunkenness which is, in fact, a sin.
So let’s take this out a bit further. We do not participate in A because A leads to B which is sin. Now, in all reality, A leads to a nice tasting liquid (B) which leads to loosening up of muscular tissue (C) which leads to a buzz (D) which leads to drunkenness (E) which leads to the shutting down of one’s abdula oblongataie: Death (F). And Believer or not, I think we can all agree that death is not a desired goal. So Christians don’t A because A leads to E which can result in F.
Let’s follow a bit further. If Christians don’t A because it can result in E-F, then we can apply this to many other areas. Think of other A’s which have the possibility of leading to an E. Think how fast we can go from Internet (A) to Porn (E), or TV (A) to slothfulness (F), or a small snack (A) to gluttony (E) or looking at that guy/girl (A) to lust (E). And because (E) is a sin, we don’t do (A). So no Internet, no snacking, no TV, no looking at him/her ever.
“The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, goodness, kindness, gentleness, and self control.” This comes from the same guy that says “everything is permissible but not everything is beneficial.” Notice that the fruit of the Spirit is not not drinking, not looking at beautiful people, not watching too much TV, not using Internet, not doing (A) which produces (E). “The Fruit of the Spirit is… self control.” So we allow ourselves through the Direction of the Text, the Support of the Community and by the Spirit of God to participate in certain activities which have the ability to become E’s but don’t have to do so. They can stay A and not ever go past C with implementation of self control. Because, after all, “Everything is permissible, but not everything is beneficial. For the Fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, goodness, kindness, gentleness, and self control, against such things there is no law.”
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| Em found this group today. This song is my favorite.
Topeka | Ludo
I found God in a catalytic converter
In Topeka on a Monday night.
I taste blood everytime I think of summer.
If that's true, I'm in for quite a treat,
'Cause I'm beggin' for the sun in a mid-Missouri winter,
Waitin' desperately to get out of town.
No, you can't keep a good man down.
You've been known to obsess over the future.
Do you think you'll get away from the past?
As you stone yourself to make it through 'til midnight,
Consider what you might have found.
You think you've got a good thing now.
I found God a catalytic converter
In Topeka on a Monday night.
Every saint has a past, every sinner has a future,
So you know what keeps me hangin' around.
No, you can't keep a good man down.
From here on, you can count on all things going
The way they must've from the start.
(All you feel... All you feel...)
All you feel is the current flowing through you
And seizing your infected heart.
I found God in a catalytic converter
In Topeka on a Monday night.
I found God in a catalytic converter
In Topeka on a Monday night.
Every saint has a past, every sinner has a future.
Saint has a past, every sinner has a future.
Saint has a past, every sinner has a future.
Saint has a past, every sinner has a future.
Sinner has a future... | | |
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