The reverance of the far away light...

It is the nights where I look into the stars that I start to doubt. Not God. But me. Or rather us. The society that has moved us so far forward seems to have only taken us away in so many ways. Did God need us to make bright lights for us to feel the warmth? I have never claimed to be anything but a city boy. But it is these days and nights that I doubt that. The nights where the creek below seems to whisper his glory and the trees all around speak of his grace. The nights where we can actually look up and realize what was meant by innumerable stars. Where you can see stars so slight and dim that you can only see them when your gaze is elsewhere. The moment that you search for them they disappear from your view only to return when we stop looking. So faint is there light and so far that the light has traveled it is doubtful that we can ever truly accept their existence as we accept the existence of those things that we commonly have constructed around us. Sometimes, maybe it is just easier to construct a God. And yes, I meant big G there. Because we aren't ever really trying to push God away or replace him. As far as intentions go we most often than not have the best. We try to push the presence of God into the air like we can light a scented candle and it fill the room. That scares the crap out of me. I can't think of the presence of God without thinking of the old temple where "holy" men died purely because of the presence of God. So instead of waiting for that presence, we instead manufacture one that we can control. One that we can turn on and off as we please. One that I feel David would have often felt uncomfortable in as he sat there searching for the God that he loved and adored. But couldn't find. We manufacture the sacred in hopes of a constant presence of God in our lives. So that perhaps he may never leave. Perhaps we may never feel as if we are unholy? Which is ironic in that it is often the presence that makes us feel at our most destitute. But we do.

Now if you know me, you know that I love creation. I believe that the greatest act of worship is for one to create. To make art. So once again we find this fine line that must be walked. That must lightly be tread upon. To far one way we are merely manufacturing art and too far the other way we are forsaking the worship of a Creator who has created what can create.

But tonight, I cannot create the stars. I cannot create the whisper of a creek. I cannot create the cold that is currently stinging my fingers. So I will praise God for these. Not for what was manufactured but rather what is making me uncomfortable. What I cannot quite comprehend. And was is giving me beauty. All three things working together to cry out the presence of the Holy.

The first night that nips on your nose...

It is my first night of a few in the mountains with some friends. It is late, or early, depending on your perspective of the sunrise and thoughts have suddenly rushed into my head as the tide rushes onto a shallow shore. The waves of thought crashing and hopefully leaving the marks that can only be seen in the daylight when the tide has subsided. These are the waves that truly make in impact. There are many that wash ashore and leave minuscule changes in the landscape but every now and then there is one or two that crashes so hard that the shore will never quite be the same. The beach itself has changed. And yet, most often it isn't the large waves that make the change. It is the small waves being persistent over time. I think that is the key to change. It isn't in the big thoughts that overtake you and suddenly change your ways completely. Every now and then there will be a tidal wave of enlightenment which completely changes your very existence but most often we change by the small thoughts that we have daily. And over time we see these small thought that at one time weren't of much value changing our very core,  our very landscape of person. We put too much focus on the epic and not enough on time in our society. The epic is, in all actuality, very rare. But the small, with time, happens daily. If we can only hold on to them.

Nudity. I can probably have as many different reactions to the word nudity as I have friends. But at one point we were meant to be naked. I glanced at an article tonight that talked about our original nude nature. I have often thought how the first recognition of our unworthiness of the presence of the holy was our nudity. One thing that has never occurred to me though was what this actually meant. There were no body image issues, there was no trying to look like everyone else, or being physically to a standard that was set up by a society. These, are merely by-products of the sinful society that we live in. In the presence of the holy there is security. So to my female friends, who struggle with body image. I say that you are beautiful in every way that you are. You are worthy of love in every way that you appear and in every way that you exist. Cause you were once loved while you were naked. Nothing hiding anything except exactly who you are.