my imagination is a little too abstract sometimes...*enters conversation about 8-day old child being like Wolverine from the X-Men*

Anyone have either of these books:

"Phone Calls from the
Dead", the authors D. Scott Rogo and Raymond Bayless

or

Epicenter

What?

Often in the world of interpretation, mistakes are made, only to be discovered, and only to cause a myriad of unintended problems. Can we not limit this any more? Why do we pretend to talk about that which we know nothing about? Why am I posting about this? I don't have any idea, I only wanted to type, and this is what my mind produced....that's a joke. Actually, it's not...but it is a potential misinterpretation of how I think and about what I think. This may seem like gibberish - and it is - but I'm actually being serious. What would "cause" me to write about this...about what must I be thinking or have I been thinking recently in order to come upon such a subject. Life is grand and the cost of misinterpretation is many thousands. Let me explain this as lucidly as I can...

*Articulation commencing*

The cool autumn breeze caught the lapel of Ed's jacket and urged it upward toward the under side of his chin. Ed is a ticklish guy, and so the subtle brushing made him flinch his right arm up to slap the itch away. As luck would have it, he forgot that he was carrying a pen knife. As he was walking back from whittling a small redwood branch on the park bench he hadn't capped the blade and then placed it in his hip pocket as usual. As the arm jerked like a lightning bolt with the spear of a knife focused on his throat, a thought flashed through Ed's mind. No way... That was it. The pen smashed into his throat - taking a reflexive gulp - and all the while Ed closed his eyes in dismay...what kind of luck must one have to stab himself in the neck. This is the stuff you don't ever hear about happening, even in books. Perhaps this analysis is a bit unnecessary considering I'm a "dead man," but maybe it's not. Ed didn't die that day...he died the next.

*Finished*

What was that all about?

THOUGHTS

A stirring occurs, the senses elevate
To recognize what the mind cannot contemplate,


THOUGHTS:
-God's preparation of the world for man (in Genesis) as compared to a bride's preparation for a groom - along with the Church's preparation for Christ, the Bridegroom's Return

-Adam and his rib --> God and us....being united unto God again...as He is the fullness of all things...that we are part of the Body of Christ...

-Only the greater can ever bless the lesser...is this accurate? In the Pslams, David says, "Bless the Lord, O my soul. With all that I am, praise His holy name."

-The "Gospel of John" was actually written by Lazarus and edited by John of Patmos.....
-The book "Revelation" was written by John of Patmos, who was not the apostle John.....
-A ton of church theology is extra-biblical....pseudepigrapha and wisdom texts.....have we elevated it to Scriptural equality in our hearts?

Faith comes by hearing and hearing by the word of Christ.

Yeah, you can get pretty far with eloquent speech,
Though you can get even farther when that speech is sweet,
Like honey from the comb, It makes you feel at home,
Enlivened by words you'd consider your own,
But as soon at they enter they're gone,
This is the story of the orator's throne,
Make you think anything, then tag it as known,
Like Sintax said, "make you think that we care about Sierra Leon."

We don't really care, we just pretend,
Anything for reaction and the money you spend,
I could talk about the same, I could talk about this,
Half the time I talk about what I've only briefly glimpsed.
Then it's over and I haven't spoke about it since...
Or maybe I have, but I doesn't matter because I'm a prince

Anger-pangs

I wanna shout profanities, in my mind their demanding me,
But I can't even allow them ground unless I want more calamity.
Why am I panicking, running in my imagination franticly?
Where is the deliverance that I've heard can change you radically?

this might be developed

Delivered up like Uriah,
My own friends conspired,
Couldn't hold back their desires,
And so they tossed me in the fire.

How can I rebuke, can I rebuke at all?
Cast away for 30 pieces, that's my most holy call,
Walking talk, cut at the knees, now I can't even crawl,
On my face, crying out to Jesus, why did man have to fall?

Roar

My eyes burn, they're blazing.
Nobody sees through the fire that I'm gazing,

It's hard to admire minds glazing,
Attitudes phasing, in and out of existence,
One minute, loving, the next, hate offers its assistance.

The folly

Open lips, light breaths with heavy content,
Truth slips out from the mind that's been its convent.
Never intended to reduce the importance of your lament,
I only hope your intent, was more than to just repent.

There was a call, and the call became abrasive,
Surrender and suffer were the terms, so persuasive,
Exclusive truth where relativism is so pervasive,
In a world of invulnerable people this is a bit too invasive.

Maneuver evasively away from the arguments berating me,
Looking under every rock for another vindicating me,
Nothing new is under the sun,
Indicating that with the darkness, I must be one.

forced-post lines

I had to, I couldn't stop myself,
I couldn't help the selfish feeling that was not myself,
I tried to cop some wealth,
And no one in the immediate vicinity would stop to help.

Truth slides down the drain as morality flounders,
"Choose" chanted in vain, as we all begin to wonder,
How can we maintain before life is blown asunder,
What can we restrain before it thunders?

Lightning strikes as the darkness eclipses
Life held in the balance, culture kisses
Goodness goodbye, it's a wicked lullaby
All the time wondering why...

Stride past the girl who dropped her books,
Glance to my left, away, you know where everyone looks,
Saw a friend, said, "hey", but that's as far as it took,
My life is center-stage, and I'm a crook

Stealing from my family, Friends pretend they love me,
Acting like I'm manly, man, I'm anything but lovely,
Holding on to bitterness's edge, carrying the chip across my shoulders
From the Truth I fled, and in turn my heart grows colder
My sins get bolder, my fins get sharper, My heart is getting harder
If I could only get farther,
To get away from the Father...
Even though my heart grows colder, the world is getting hotter
Until that day, when the clay is dashed by the Potter




Why run when you could walk?
Why draw with a pencil when you could make it beautiful with chalk?
Why not try to sit in silence rather than talk?

Off-night, not on duty

Go figure that the night I'm not on "official" duty at the Suites...is the night when I get called back (which isn't bad because I love hanging with my co-hall supervisors :)) to help keep the peace.

God is good, and all problems were resolved either by us or by campus security...Also, thank the Lord for campus security. Those guys are amazing...I was never really privy to their incredible tact, their desire to protect and serve, and their calmness. I salute them as they made our job a whole lot easier.

I am so thankful that not one of our students was hurt, and that no one provoked any physical fights with us. It almost seemed as if it would happen at one point...but praise the Lord, He kept us cool and placed His perfect protection around us. Bless the Lord O our souls, REJOICE!