its a moment i won't forget.
what does one think about when listening to three handsome friends play music that plays spirit into every chord, word, and rest? I'll tell you, for who better to tell this story than one who just left this heaven?
You think of life. You see things that yes, you've seen before. You hear things that you've heard before. You feel, and twist your heart into a rapture of feeling. Some which is good. and even some which most would wish would stay away. When you have the opportunity to listen to music, see a new colour, meet a new person, or generally take a deep breath in life. Your life changes. Perhaps for a moment. Perhaps for longer. This choice however, is none others but yours. Something we all to quickly forget. That i forget.
As i listened to the words of "come thou fount." pouring through a voice of quite possibly an angel, things go silent, as contradictory as that sounds. Often times, "the world" drowns out true feelings. like love. and hope. and faith. and when this happens, it doesn't happen soundly. Its loud. obnoxious. and I hate it. But then once in a blue moon, if your heart is open and you allow your spirit to search beyond yourself, you find something that drowns THAT out. It quieter. stiller. Sharper. Powerful. and profoundly, dream like. How many a times do you think we've experienced times like this? and how often do you think we forget it?
I have to ask the question of whether or not the word "remember" is a positive or negative word. I see it both ways. I see it as negative, for the simple fact that because we forget, we must remember. So if we never forget, than we never have to remember. But than again, if it is humanly impossible to remember every moment that we wish, than i shall bow down to remembrance because it is what keeps me going up. right?
This probably is very irrelevant to what i truly wish to talk about. But i have no straight line in which my thoughts travel, so things come out in a jumble of nugatory words. My main frustration is the fact that I can't breath. Not physically, though sometimes I think that would be a lot easier to deal with, but metaphorical. and yes Mrs. Prevous. I DID use metaphorical in a metaphorical statement. eat me. Anyway, like I said, I feel like I can't breath. I have so many, (I should say "we" because I'm sure we're all somewhat decision challenged right now), decisions to figure out. From the most minimal to the most maximum. Like i said, I can't breathe. I don't know who I am. Where I'm going. Who I've been. What i want to become. What my passions are. What I live for. Who I really love. IF i really love. Nothing. Lifes mysteries are HUGE.
and what about the glimpses. To bring my sideways words together, and try and connect this massive querulous text... My main beef with life is what I love most about it. The moments where for a second you become "tranced" &, life makes sense. Like my experience earlier. I LIVE for times like that. I crave them. but the follow up of them drive me mad. How could I experience such a profound instance, and walk out of the room thinking nothing but what I shall eat when I get home? Where is my soul. and why is it hiding? or perhaps, a better question, is why am i not trying harder to listen to it? and why is God showing me things, and not letting me grasp them fully? and KEEP them? How many more heart conversions must I have till I choose to finally see my path? Its no lie that the mixed messages coming from all eras, and areas of my world aren't helping either. Who and what am I to believe, if ten people i love give me ten different answers they "know" are right? I know i harbour useless questions to you, that pose no interest, or are overly dazed views. But these are the kind of things that have become stitching's to my soul. If I don't give them daylight, then I wither away like the women who gets married before she knows who she is. or the man that serves a mission because "it'll make him look good." or the boy with a dream to be an astronaut but becomes a grocery store manager because his mother didn't believe in him. I DON'T WANT TO BE THESE PEOPLE. I want to know who i am. I want to serve the world. and my lord. I want to die with a difference made. and i believe that if i don't get answers to these seemingly ludicrous questions, i will not have ever truly lived. You know, C.S Lewis once said, "You do not have a spirit. you are a spirit. you have a body." In one short phrase he summed up an answer to my pains, deriving from the world. He believes, or rather I believe, what he believes. I know I am a spirit. Not that I have one. And that is how I know, I am drowning. Shake your head at my "immaturity" but I know something deeper is speaking to me. and currently, I'm just frustrated that I can't hear it.
what does one think about when listening to three handsome friends play music that plays spirit into every chord, word, and rest? I'll tell you, for who better to tell this story than one who just left this heaven?
You think of life. You see things that yes, you've seen before. You hear things that you've heard before. You feel, and twist your heart into a rapture of feeling. Some which is good. and even some which most would wish would stay away. When you have the opportunity to listen to music, see a new colour, meet a new person, or generally take a deep breath in life. Your life changes. Perhaps for a moment. Perhaps for longer. This choice however, is none others but yours. Something we all to quickly forget. That i forget.
As i listened to the words of "come thou fount." pouring through a voice of quite possibly an angel, things go silent, as contradictory as that sounds. Often times, "the world" drowns out true feelings. like love. and hope. and faith. and when this happens, it doesn't happen soundly. Its loud. obnoxious. and I hate it. But then once in a blue moon, if your heart is open and you allow your spirit to search beyond yourself, you find something that drowns THAT out. It quieter. stiller. Sharper. Powerful. and profoundly, dream like. How many a times do you think we've experienced times like this? and how often do you think we forget it?
I have to ask the question of whether or not the word "remember" is a positive or negative word. I see it both ways. I see it as negative, for the simple fact that because we forget, we must remember. So if we never forget, than we never have to remember. But than again, if it is humanly impossible to remember every moment that we wish, than i shall bow down to remembrance because it is what keeps me going up. right?
This probably is very irrelevant to what i truly wish to talk about. But i have no straight line in which my thoughts travel, so things come out in a jumble of nugatory words. My main frustration is the fact that I can't breath. Not physically, though sometimes I think that would be a lot easier to deal with, but metaphorical. and yes Mrs. Prevous. I DID use metaphorical in a metaphorical statement. eat me. Anyway, like I said, I feel like I can't breath. I have so many, (I should say "we" because I'm sure we're all somewhat decision challenged right now), decisions to figure out. From the most minimal to the most maximum. Like i said, I can't breathe. I don't know who I am. Where I'm going. Who I've been. What i want to become. What my passions are. What I live for. Who I really love. IF i really love. Nothing. Lifes mysteries are HUGE.
and what about the glimpses. To bring my sideways words together, and try and connect this massive querulous text... My main beef with life is what I love most about it. The moments where for a second you become "tranced" &, life makes sense. Like my experience earlier. I LIVE for times like that. I crave them. but the follow up of them drive me mad. How could I experience such a profound instance, and walk out of the room thinking nothing but what I shall eat when I get home? Where is my soul. and why is it hiding? or perhaps, a better question, is why am i not trying harder to listen to it? and why is God showing me things, and not letting me grasp them fully? and KEEP them? How many more heart conversions must I have till I choose to finally see my path? Its no lie that the mixed messages coming from all eras, and areas of my world aren't helping either. Who and what am I to believe, if ten people i love give me ten different answers they "know" are right? I know i harbour useless questions to you, that pose no interest, or are overly dazed views. But these are the kind of things that have become stitching's to my soul. If I don't give them daylight, then I wither away like the women who gets married before she knows who she is. or the man that serves a mission because "it'll make him look good." or the boy with a dream to be an astronaut but becomes a grocery store manager because his mother didn't believe in him. I DON'T WANT TO BE THESE PEOPLE. I want to know who i am. I want to serve the world. and my lord. I want to die with a difference made. and i believe that if i don't get answers to these seemingly ludicrous questions, i will not have ever truly lived. You know, C.S Lewis once said, "You do not have a spirit. you are a spirit. you have a body." In one short phrase he summed up an answer to my pains, deriving from the world. He believes, or rather I believe, what he believes. I know I am a spirit. Not that I have one. And that is how I know, I am drowning. Shake your head at my "immaturity" but I know something deeper is speaking to me. and currently, I'm just frustrated that I can't hear it.
