a simple piece of my mind is hard to come by today. i find that it lives in an utterly shattered condition and no single piece can be found without others coming along. my thoughts are often circulating too many things at once for my to concentrate on any single thing. although this is not new, i still find it aggrivating. i can do one thing at any time, but i still hear the indoor fountain that is behind me, the child who is joyfully playing with his brother around it, the two men who are discussing any number of things beyond the fountain and slightly to my right. i also hear the tv to my left, notice whenever the woman to my left about ten feet moves or pulls out her newspaper, the woman in front of me on the other side of the table, although my screen blocks all but her head, the two men who are sitting at the cafe, and a numerous amount of other things. all this somes in at the same time. and because it is currently the action item (in this case items) it takes my attention. the semi on the road out the window..
i won't lie, i do like being well aware of my surroundings. but there are times that i would prefer if i could simply concentrate on one thing. take reading the Bible. when i read my Bible, i like to understand it the first time. there are many times that i reread an entire chapter because i realize i was thinking about thirty other things, and although i have a pretty good idea of what i was thinking about and what i was reading, i realize that i missed something. it doesn't make perfect sense. perfect understanding only comes by the Holy Spirit, however it helps to actually read it.
unforetunately, this is all the time i have. and although i know everyone just loves to listen to me talk (which is a joke), i simply must leave.
may you glorify God in all things that you do, and let people se Christ in you.
-therefore, seeing that we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which so easily besets us, and run with endurance the race that is set before us- Hebrews 12:1
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
the stain
a stain of gray was all that remained. no blood. no body. the floor was green. there was a chandelier hanging above the gray area on the floor. the carpet fibers held a story of the dark past hidden away by the new aroma that pervaded the room.
"i don't know what happened, but there was no crime here." the detective stood across the room from the butler. he had been sent at 3:34 am to investigate the murder. the butler called the police only an hour earlier. detective claud. he was the best they had.
"i beg your pardon, sir." the butler had a british accent. he had moved to america nearly twenty years ago, but his accent barely weakened in that time. "it's not quite that simple," he continued, "i woke up 2:15, just like i told you earlier, to the sound of rustling. i got out of bed and headed straight down to the study here, where i found the body of master gregory. he had a blow across the top of his head by the looks of it. whoever did it was already gone, murder weapon too. now i don't know what you see, or don't, but i know what i saw. the master of the house was murdered by god knows who, and all you can do is sit here and tell me that no crime was committed? i tell you, i am about as baffled as anyone that the body could just disappear without a trace, but i know what i saw."
somewhere in the middle of the butler's speech, the detective had taken a seat in the study chair. the chair was leather with ribs running up and down the back. he was tired. in the past two weeks he had been called to three different crime scenes. this was his fourth. he had only managed to solve two of them so far and he was getting no closer on the third. a man dead in his car in the middle of the woods with no sign of foul play. there was the rope, the gun, the ceremonial alter and empty robe that stood as if it was alive. he had come to hate religion. and money. the two most often exploited motives. this was no different. money. the wealthiest man in town. dead. or missing. he didn't know. he didn't care. in fact he was somewhat upset at the wretch. he could have died in the day. but no. night. always waking him up. as if he didn't miss enough sleep already. less than 4 hours a night for too long. he tried to count the weeks. it hurt too much.
"sir, i know you're good. you're the best in the nation. but you can't always be right." the butler took a bottle off the book shelf. brandy. he opened it and poured a glass for the detective. "maybe this will help?" he looked at it. drank. it burned. but it helped. he could think. if not very clearly, he could still think.
the detective knew he was wrong. he knew that the butler wasn't lying. he knew it wasn't a dream. he had seen it all before. he knew when someone was lying or just making things up without knowing. but he didn't care. he just wanted the case closed before it opened. being the best was quite the opposite. he always wanted to rise to the top. now that he was there he looked for a way down. there were none. dead. it must be nice. R.I.P. when could he rest? and in peace? he couldn't remember the last time he had slept without his phone ringing through his dreams. most of the time it was relief. the things he had seen. his dreams. as dark and darker than what he had seen. waking was a relief. death. what would that be like?
"sir?" the butler had been standing there watching him think.
"he was murdered. i don't know who. i don't know how. i do know why."
"well, why?"
he thought about framing the butler. it would work. everyone trusted him. he could solve it in one night. no. he might not be entirely good but he was not evil.
"what was on his desk?" he pointed. "here." there was a spot where no dust had collected. something had been there. recently.
"a book. it was... bloody awful when your memory starts to fail! i can't remember it's title." bloody awful? no. the detective couldn't wait until he could no longer remember.
he looked at the spot. and two inches wide. seven inches in length. the the discoloration on the rest of the desk he could guess it was about ten inches tall from where it's shadow had protected the wood from the light from the window. he stood up and raised his hand to the top of the window. it was in the east wall. the distance between the book and the window. no. it was nine inches tall.
"'the history of galiano, a prophet's tale'." it was a fact. not an assumption. the book was worthless to him but he knew that some would kill for it. had killed. he knew of only one other. he needed it.
"we have a motive. a book. a book with knowledge that could lead one to great power." he scoffed at the idea. it was ridiculous. but he knew that some believed it. "religious. our man killed for religious reasons. not very holy."
TBC
"i don't know what happened, but there was no crime here." the detective stood across the room from the butler. he had been sent at 3:34 am to investigate the murder. the butler called the police only an hour earlier. detective claud. he was the best they had.
"i beg your pardon, sir." the butler had a british accent. he had moved to america nearly twenty years ago, but his accent barely weakened in that time. "it's not quite that simple," he continued, "i woke up 2:15, just like i told you earlier, to the sound of rustling. i got out of bed and headed straight down to the study here, where i found the body of master gregory. he had a blow across the top of his head by the looks of it. whoever did it was already gone, murder weapon too. now i don't know what you see, or don't, but i know what i saw. the master of the house was murdered by god knows who, and all you can do is sit here and tell me that no crime was committed? i tell you, i am about as baffled as anyone that the body could just disappear without a trace, but i know what i saw."
somewhere in the middle of the butler's speech, the detective had taken a seat in the study chair. the chair was leather with ribs running up and down the back. he was tired. in the past two weeks he had been called to three different crime scenes. this was his fourth. he had only managed to solve two of them so far and he was getting no closer on the third. a man dead in his car in the middle of the woods with no sign of foul play. there was the rope, the gun, the ceremonial alter and empty robe that stood as if it was alive. he had come to hate religion. and money. the two most often exploited motives. this was no different. money. the wealthiest man in town. dead. or missing. he didn't know. he didn't care. in fact he was somewhat upset at the wretch. he could have died in the day. but no. night. always waking him up. as if he didn't miss enough sleep already. less than 4 hours a night for too long. he tried to count the weeks. it hurt too much.
"sir, i know you're good. you're the best in the nation. but you can't always be right." the butler took a bottle off the book shelf. brandy. he opened it and poured a glass for the detective. "maybe this will help?" he looked at it. drank. it burned. but it helped. he could think. if not very clearly, he could still think.
the detective knew he was wrong. he knew that the butler wasn't lying. he knew it wasn't a dream. he had seen it all before. he knew when someone was lying or just making things up without knowing. but he didn't care. he just wanted the case closed before it opened. being the best was quite the opposite. he always wanted to rise to the top. now that he was there he looked for a way down. there were none. dead. it must be nice. R.I.P. when could he rest? and in peace? he couldn't remember the last time he had slept without his phone ringing through his dreams. most of the time it was relief. the things he had seen. his dreams. as dark and darker than what he had seen. waking was a relief. death. what would that be like?
"sir?" the butler had been standing there watching him think.
"he was murdered. i don't know who. i don't know how. i do know why."
"well, why?"
he thought about framing the butler. it would work. everyone trusted him. he could solve it in one night. no. he might not be entirely good but he was not evil.
"what was on his desk?" he pointed. "here." there was a spot where no dust had collected. something had been there. recently.
"a book. it was... bloody awful when your memory starts to fail! i can't remember it's title." bloody awful? no. the detective couldn't wait until he could no longer remember.
he looked at the spot. and two inches wide. seven inches in length. the the discoloration on the rest of the desk he could guess it was about ten inches tall from where it's shadow had protected the wood from the light from the window. he stood up and raised his hand to the top of the window. it was in the east wall. the distance between the book and the window. no. it was nine inches tall.
"'the history of galiano, a prophet's tale'." it was a fact. not an assumption. the book was worthless to him but he knew that some would kill for it. had killed. he knew of only one other. he needed it.
"we have a motive. a book. a book with knowledge that could lead one to great power." he scoffed at the idea. it was ridiculous. but he knew that some believed it. "religious. our man killed for religious reasons. not very holy."
TBC
Monday, April 5, 2010
agathokakological -chapter 1 cont.
the now-lost soul, who's name was shen but now armen, continued on his way to the coffee shop. he walked with the red letter still in hand. he remembered it. pulling it close to his face he tried to read it. all he saw were three strange letters. they made sense, g-o-d, but they didn't. in fact every time he tried to figure it out he could not. he realized suddenly that the letters were laid out backwards. it wasn't g-o-d, it was d-o-g. dog. it made sense. someone was in too much of a hurry and misspelled it. He did. but that didn't matter. the letter was addressed to a dog. or maybe it was a poor attempt at slang, dawg. nevertheless, it meant nothing of importance and He left it with him. He wouldn't just want it thrown away. or would he? no. so armen opened it. he pulled it open and peered inside. nothing was inside. tossing it to the ground he continued walking. it was of no concern to him.
...
as the door slammed shut, He admired His work. a masterpiece. He could barely hold back His laughter as he watched armen stand and exit the other side of the bus station. the fool. that's all he was. nothing could have gone wrong if it was His first one. but of course it wasn't. He had made many to forget. He was proud of Himself. no one else who had ever or ever would could confuse people so well. He buttoned five of the six buttons on his military stylistic jacket. of course it was modern and metro. He enjoyed not only being better than others, but looking better. He sported a fedora. black. like His jacket. His shoes were green. His eyes were too. He had black jeans on. His shirt was the same green as His shoes. He had graying hair. His face had only enough wrinkles to show that He was no long a "young" adult. He looked at his watch, which had a black leather band with a silver clock piece. it was nearly noon.
...
"hey, grab that over there. no, under the car." the youth group would go out once a month to clean up this short stretch of road. it was their way of giving back to the community. what had the community ever given them? they were picking up the trash today. and a good thing because it is supposed to rain all next week. that would be an awful mess. they decided to go a week early. only a couple of the regulars couldn't make it and there were several new members along this time. no one cared about giving back to the community. they were all wretches. all they wanted was to spend time with their friends. some of them were dating other members of the youth group.
ashley was hoping for a chance to date the captain of the football team. but unfortunately being on the cheerleader team wasn't enough to get his attention. so she joined youth group. she could get his attention this way. maybe? she hoped. and it was working. kinda. not as well as she hoped. c'mon, it had been three weeks. they did talk more and even flirt every once in awhile. but that's not enough. ugh. she hated how he would talk to jenna. it wasn't that he talk to her more, but he didn't need to talk to her at all. isn't 'hi' enough? "hey, jake. what's up?
"picking up trash. you haven't picked up any?"
"of course i have."
"you sure do know how to keep your hands clean." the trash was often sticky and grimy, leaving muck on the teen's hands.
"well... i have a reputation to keep up. you should know that. i have to impress the guys." she winked.
he blushed. it wasn't much of a flirt but it caught him off guard. she liked it. she knew he might get mad, he was that way, but she couldn't help herself. everyone else was on the other side of the street, and the wind made their voices almost fade into nothing. "i guess." what was he thinking. he liked her. he needed to say something. anything. "well, you are... uh. impressive." was that too much? he couldn't look at her. he knew his face was a hot red. it burned.
"thank you!"
his face cooled. it wasn't too much. he looked at her. "so. i am going to a movie in a few hours. well. at seven. i have a few friends coming. wanna come?"
this was it. she was supposed to go home and do homework. "supposed" to. "sure! so, i'll meet you there?" would he catch on? did he remember?
"you got a car?"
"well no, i'll have to get a ride."
"why don't i give you one."
she could barely believe what she heard. "yes!" it came out almost a shout. "yes, that would be awesome!" a bit more controlled. well we better get this done." she reached for a red envelope and noticed him reaching for it too. she continued. he continued. their hands touch. their faces turned red. they looked at each other. "sorry."
"ha, it's ok. i know you meant it." he winked. she melted. picking up the letter, he turned it over and opened it. a single gold letter was inside. he pulled it out. it was heavy for just paper. it was gold."look at this."
"wow, who would just throw that away? is that real gold?"
he handed it to her, "see?"
"wow!" she wasn't talking about the gold. it was what was on the gold. a picture.
"it says, God."
"where?"
"here." he pointed to the middle. "it's taking up almost the whole thing," he said a bit agitated.
"i don't see it. what, are you joking?" she was a little flustered herself.
"what do you see?" trying not to get her more riled up.
"just a picture." her voice was soft against the wind. he knew he was in love with her.
"just a picture?" he hoped.
"yes. ok, stop. this isn't funny. if you want to keep pretending, do it to someone else." he knew he had to do something.
"ok, i'm sorry. that was a bad joke." please.
"ok, just don't turn out to be a jerk." she smiled. slightly.
"so, that's a cool picture." he still saw 'God'. he didn't know why she wasn't seeing it, but didn't care. he compromised. "you can have it."
"we'll share it"
he smiled.
"we'll call it the picture of god." he smiled, hinting at a laugh.
"ok." she laughed.
...
He felt it. it was working. only two hours ago He planted his seed of contempt. He was good. He was now at a church. He looked across the street and saw a bar. no reason to go there. they're all lost already. He liked the church. He could get an average of two souls a week. just enough so no one caught on. someday the church would give up for lack of growth.
"hello, welcome back." He hated the greeters. always smiling. they were hard. they didn't know his name. He had managed to figure theirs out. wretches. He played along. shook the hand of the younger. ignored the older. "would you like a program?" the older continued. He ignored him.
He sat in the front. He had to play the game the right way. besides He liked attention. no one else dressed like Him in church.
...tbc
...
as the door slammed shut, He admired His work. a masterpiece. He could barely hold back His laughter as he watched armen stand and exit the other side of the bus station. the fool. that's all he was. nothing could have gone wrong if it was His first one. but of course it wasn't. He had made many to forget. He was proud of Himself. no one else who had ever or ever would could confuse people so well. He buttoned five of the six buttons on his military stylistic jacket. of course it was modern and metro. He enjoyed not only being better than others, but looking better. He sported a fedora. black. like His jacket. His shoes were green. His eyes were too. He had black jeans on. His shirt was the same green as His shoes. He had graying hair. His face had only enough wrinkles to show that He was no long a "young" adult. He looked at his watch, which had a black leather band with a silver clock piece. it was nearly noon.
...
"hey, grab that over there. no, under the car." the youth group would go out once a month to clean up this short stretch of road. it was their way of giving back to the community. what had the community ever given them? they were picking up the trash today. and a good thing because it is supposed to rain all next week. that would be an awful mess. they decided to go a week early. only a couple of the regulars couldn't make it and there were several new members along this time. no one cared about giving back to the community. they were all wretches. all they wanted was to spend time with their friends. some of them were dating other members of the youth group.
ashley was hoping for a chance to date the captain of the football team. but unfortunately being on the cheerleader team wasn't enough to get his attention. so she joined youth group. she could get his attention this way. maybe? she hoped. and it was working. kinda. not as well as she hoped. c'mon, it had been three weeks. they did talk more and even flirt every once in awhile. but that's not enough. ugh. she hated how he would talk to jenna. it wasn't that he talk to her more, but he didn't need to talk to her at all. isn't 'hi' enough? "hey, jake. what's up?
"picking up trash. you haven't picked up any?"
"of course i have."
"you sure do know how to keep your hands clean." the trash was often sticky and grimy, leaving muck on the teen's hands.
"well... i have a reputation to keep up. you should know that. i have to impress the guys." she winked.
he blushed. it wasn't much of a flirt but it caught him off guard. she liked it. she knew he might get mad, he was that way, but she couldn't help herself. everyone else was on the other side of the street, and the wind made their voices almost fade into nothing. "i guess." what was he thinking. he liked her. he needed to say something. anything. "well, you are... uh. impressive." was that too much? he couldn't look at her. he knew his face was a hot red. it burned.
"thank you!"
his face cooled. it wasn't too much. he looked at her. "so. i am going to a movie in a few hours. well. at seven. i have a few friends coming. wanna come?"
this was it. she was supposed to go home and do homework. "supposed" to. "sure! so, i'll meet you there?" would he catch on? did he remember?
"you got a car?"
"well no, i'll have to get a ride."
"why don't i give you one."
she could barely believe what she heard. "yes!" it came out almost a shout. "yes, that would be awesome!" a bit more controlled. well we better get this done." she reached for a red envelope and noticed him reaching for it too. she continued. he continued. their hands touch. their faces turned red. they looked at each other. "sorry."
"ha, it's ok. i know you meant it." he winked. she melted. picking up the letter, he turned it over and opened it. a single gold letter was inside. he pulled it out. it was heavy for just paper. it was gold."look at this."
"wow, who would just throw that away? is that real gold?"
he handed it to her, "see?"
"wow!" she wasn't talking about the gold. it was what was on the gold. a picture.
"it says, God."
"where?"
"here." he pointed to the middle. "it's taking up almost the whole thing," he said a bit agitated.
"i don't see it. what, are you joking?" she was a little flustered herself.
"what do you see?" trying not to get her more riled up.
"just a picture." her voice was soft against the wind. he knew he was in love with her.
"just a picture?" he hoped.
"yes. ok, stop. this isn't funny. if you want to keep pretending, do it to someone else." he knew he had to do something.
"ok, i'm sorry. that was a bad joke." please.
"ok, just don't turn out to be a jerk." she smiled. slightly.
"so, that's a cool picture." he still saw 'God'. he didn't know why she wasn't seeing it, but didn't care. he compromised. "you can have it."
"we'll share it"
he smiled.
"we'll call it the picture of god." he smiled, hinting at a laugh.
"ok." she laughed.
...
He felt it. it was working. only two hours ago He planted his seed of contempt. He was good. He was now at a church. He looked across the street and saw a bar. no reason to go there. they're all lost already. He liked the church. He could get an average of two souls a week. just enough so no one caught on. someday the church would give up for lack of growth.
"hello, welcome back." He hated the greeters. always smiling. they were hard. they didn't know his name. He had managed to figure theirs out. wretches. He played along. shook the hand of the younger. ignored the older. "would you like a program?" the older continued. He ignored him.
He sat in the front. He had to play the game the right way. besides He liked attention. no one else dressed like Him in church.
...tbc
agathokakological
only the person on His left noticed the way he looked through the newspaper without so much as a thought for the "important" sections: Headlines. Sports. Tragedies. No, what He looked for was more important than the "important" sections. He continued searching for nearly five minutes before he was interrupted.
"what are you looking for? maybe i can help. i'm kind of. well sort of. i consider myself to be very knowledgeable of newspapers. i could tell you where to find what you're looking for. hm? what do you say?" the person on His left was persistent. He was getting a bit agitated by the intrusion. "i mean. well if you don't want my help i don't have to. i just noticed how you've been looking through that old thing for a few minutes now." His mind was far more complex than this person's on His left. as a matter of fact He had already figured out the person on His left's name. it was easier than most. the innocent soul had basically given it to Him. how unfortunate.
"you want to help?" came the shockingly dark reply. "I suppose I could use the help." the words were drawn out, long and thin. barely escaping his mouth, while at the same time burning into the ears of the wretched soul who had so foolishly walked into His path. His path was filled with everything evil. the smell, or perhaps reek, given off my this soon to be non-existent soul was unholy. however most things are. nevertheless, this bothered Him greatly. He decided to make it quick. "i need you to find a word for me. it is god."
"that's it? ok, hang on." taking the paper in his hands the wretch took to his task. it only took him two minutes to find a section in the paper that read, "Come worship God the Creator, this Sunday at 9 am. Meal to follow service." turning the paper back back to Him, he pointed it out.
"no. that's not god.read it again."
"i'm sure it is, i just read it.
"i did too."
"are you calling me a liar?"
"no. however, i am not a liar. perhaps you're only mistaken."
"i'm not kiddin', man. this is it! right here in the paper. it says... oh, my god, you're right. but this is weird." he read it again three times. he couldn't believe his own eyes. perhaps he had been so eager to impress that he had made a mistake. he scanned the ads surrounding this one but found no others that could be what he was looking for. the words he had read. must have. didn't he? the helpless fool read it one last time, "looking for dogs? brand new litter of labs ready to be taken! come at 9 am and be the first to pick!"
"i'm sorry, my mistake. let me see. i can find... what was i looking for?"
"a word."
"oh, yes... what word?"
His plan was playing out flawlessly. "god."
"what?" it took a few seconds for him to grasp the meaning of the one syllable word. God? oh yeah. God. the found soul became lost in his work. in fact he became lost to more than his work. his very mind was un-weaving. but he didn't know this. too bad. he couldn't feel all his logic and many long conversations spent defending his faith over the last two decades of his life. he could remember only "logical" things. then he found it. right where it should be. on the front page of the paper in the upper right hand corner. "For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life. -John 3:16." the weekly verse. and it had the word God in it. he pointed at it.
"i don't see the word."
"it's the second word in." however, not wanting to make the same mistake twice he read it again. "now open! the 'greenest' coffee on the planet! 301 E main. bring in this ad, this week only, and get a free sample of whatever coffee you want." weird. the wretch looked at Him. "can i take this ad? i love coffee."
it had worked. or had it? best not to let him go without a test. "sure. oh, and i hear god is working there today. can you take him this letter?" handing him a red letter with a seal on it, the stranger stood. "thank you."
"who's god?" he was very confused. "and thank you for what?"
"never mind. i'll do it myself. and thank you for your help." without further explanation, He turned and walked out.
He forgot the letter. oh well. he got up after tearing the coupon out and walked out. he took an immediate left and began his journey to the coffee shop.
"what are you looking for? maybe i can help. i'm kind of. well sort of. i consider myself to be very knowledgeable of newspapers. i could tell you where to find what you're looking for. hm? what do you say?" the person on His left was persistent. He was getting a bit agitated by the intrusion. "i mean. well if you don't want my help i don't have to. i just noticed how you've been looking through that old thing for a few minutes now." His mind was far more complex than this person's on His left. as a matter of fact He had already figured out the person on His left's name. it was easier than most. the innocent soul had basically given it to Him. how unfortunate.
"you want to help?" came the shockingly dark reply. "I suppose I could use the help." the words were drawn out, long and thin. barely escaping his mouth, while at the same time burning into the ears of the wretched soul who had so foolishly walked into His path. His path was filled with everything evil. the smell, or perhaps reek, given off my this soon to be non-existent soul was unholy. however most things are. nevertheless, this bothered Him greatly. He decided to make it quick. "i need you to find a word for me. it is god."
"that's it? ok, hang on." taking the paper in his hands the wretch took to his task. it only took him two minutes to find a section in the paper that read, "Come worship God the Creator, this Sunday at 9 am. Meal to follow service." turning the paper back back to Him, he pointed it out.
"no. that's not god.read it again."
"i'm sure it is, i just read it.
"i did too."
"are you calling me a liar?"
"no. however, i am not a liar. perhaps you're only mistaken."
"i'm not kiddin', man. this is it! right here in the paper. it says... oh, my god, you're right. but this is weird." he read it again three times. he couldn't believe his own eyes. perhaps he had been so eager to impress that he had made a mistake. he scanned the ads surrounding this one but found no others that could be what he was looking for. the words he had read. must have. didn't he? the helpless fool read it one last time, "looking for dogs? brand new litter of labs ready to be taken! come at 9 am and be the first to pick!"
"i'm sorry, my mistake. let me see. i can find... what was i looking for?"
"a word."
"oh, yes... what word?"
His plan was playing out flawlessly. "god."
"what?" it took a few seconds for him to grasp the meaning of the one syllable word. God? oh yeah. God. the found soul became lost in his work. in fact he became lost to more than his work. his very mind was un-weaving. but he didn't know this. too bad. he couldn't feel all his logic and many long conversations spent defending his faith over the last two decades of his life. he could remember only "logical" things. then he found it. right where it should be. on the front page of the paper in the upper right hand corner. "For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life. -John 3:16." the weekly verse. and it had the word God in it. he pointed at it.
"i don't see the word."
"it's the second word in." however, not wanting to make the same mistake twice he read it again. "now open! the 'greenest' coffee on the planet! 301 E main. bring in this ad, this week only, and get a free sample of whatever coffee you want." weird. the wretch looked at Him. "can i take this ad? i love coffee."
it had worked. or had it? best not to let him go without a test. "sure. oh, and i hear god is working there today. can you take him this letter?" handing him a red letter with a seal on it, the stranger stood. "thank you."
"who's god?" he was very confused. "and thank you for what?"
"never mind. i'll do it myself. and thank you for your help." without further explanation, He turned and walked out.
He forgot the letter. oh well. he got up after tearing the coupon out and walked out. he took an immediate left and began his journey to the coffee shop.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
sing praise
in the raging wind there is a voice that rings out. a voice crying to its Creator. a voice singing praise to God. when we fail to lift our voice to the Lord of Hosts, our seats do not go unfilled. when we are quiet God's ears do not lack praise. when we are quiet we are replaced. when our voices fail to lift God's name on high, we hear the wind, and rain, and trees, and every other thing lift His name high. we can be replaced. let's lift His name higher than the wind, higher than the sky. let's replace the wind and cry out to our God, the one and only, I Am, Lord of Lords, King of Kings, YHWH, Hosanna, Adonai, Jesus.
All Praise and Glory to the Father!
~daniel hanson
All Praise and Glory to the Father!
~daniel hanson
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