99.87

a simple number

can bring a lot of fear

for being something so emotionless

dashes and bullets

Some link goodness:
-la blogotheque – especially “concerts a emporter”
-wolf wolf wolf – if i may deign to say this: more interesting than wikipedia
-best dictionary. ever.

other than that, this is what i have to share about live right now:

• g.k. chesterton and c.s. lewis are brilliant
• dates are delicious
• kneading bread dough is extremely therapeutic
• adventure is frightening and risky, but if it wasn’t, it wouldn’t be adventure
• i’m a sinner, but God knew that a long time ago
• reading old journals/blogs/etc. produces feelings i don’t know quite how to describe. at points, my younger self has kicked my current self in the butt a little.

and, from one of those old sources:

Christ Himself is my righteousness. I look at Him as a gift to me, in Himself; so that in Him I have all things. He says, I am the way, etc.; not, I give thee the way, etc.; as if He were working on me from without. All these things He must be in me, abiding, living, speaking in me; that I may be the righteousness of God in Him (2 Cor. v. 21); not in love, nor in gifts and graces which follow; but in Him.

Martin Luther

“all the airy words we summon”

 

More and more, words seem inadequate to communicate. Compacting the richness and depth of life into letters and punctuation marks is absurd. There are other methods of expression; art in other forms – music, photography, painting, etc. Yet these too, though perhaps one resonates more deeply than other, always fall short of conveying what existing is.

All forms may provide a glimpse, a little piece, a vague idea. But life is the intersection of all avenues of “experiencing” things – physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually. Not only is a photograph of a sunset lacking in many of the physical experiences of a sunset  - the sound of nature, the feel of the air – even the visual is not the same – but it practically leaves aside all other avenues of experience. To share mundane or extraordinary adventures – the grogginess of being jarred awake by an alarm, a loving embrace, sending faxes, a painful remark, driving late at night with the windows open, eating the same breakfast for the gazillionth time, saying goodbye (or hello), getting caught in a thunderstorm, love, hate, joy, grief, life, death, energy, fatigue, peace, turmoil, and how they all jumble up into incomprehensible and paradoxical and ambivalent forms – nothing can be fully shared, but only experienced. And even then, probably not comprehended.

Even this isn’t saying what is intended. But, it is saying one thing, by the fact that it is an attempt – though it may never be possible to communicate comprehensively, there is still worth in trying, in sharing, in giving those glimpses. We know in part now, then we shall know as we are known. Not only know, but I hope we will also be able to share…

“But can words tell the joy buried deep within? Mine cannot. It laughs at words.” – Amy Carmichael