February 24th, 2006


(no subject)

My nose is running profusely. In fact, I’m quite sure that I’ve ran out of nasal fluid and that the liquid that is emitting from my head is cerebral fluid and perhaps even ideas coated in goo. With every blow of my nose I become less original. This could be the end.


It is so hard to remember God. And when one remembers God, it is so hard to feel as if He is anything more than an abstract, intellectual concept. It takes concentration and much effort to come to the point when one realizes that God is personal, present – that He truly exists. Everything is working against us in our effort to remember God; in this “exile from paradise” that is our life. Death clings to us, emotions control us, and our own sins infest and disgust us. The whole world seems to bear down on us when we actually seek the experience of communion with God. It is difficult.

There are breakthroughs, however. But what I’ve found is that these breakthroughs, among other things, can be downright unsettling. Like a man emerging from life in a cave, the realized presence of God can be blinding and disorienting; it is warm to a point of discomfort. But that warmth, that heat which is the presence of Life, is the heat that we so desperately need to melt the hardness and isolation of our hearts. It is a fire of which we need be burnt.