07.31.01 >2325

I nearly didn't have a featured blog to put up for this week! wockerjabby

verse of the week : "and now these three remain : faith, hope and love. but the greatest of these is love." 1 corinthians 13 : 13

quote of the week : "Some saw the giant as too big to hit; David saw the giant as too big to miss." - Darin Anderson (my youth pastor)

Countdown to youth camp : 4.7 days



07.30.01 >1811

Today was just totally blah. Or as L.T. put it, today was an "official non-productive day." Well, fine with me! Got a lot of work done elsewhere on the Web, role-player-wise, and had fun while we were at it.

The weekend was actually loads of fun, too - I think the last time I went to the aquarium was the summer after my freshman year in high school! And back then, I was more interested in the beach than in the fish - but this time all the different sea creatures Mir and I looked at captivated me. I went a little snap-happy with the camera, but that's okay - taking pics is harmless for everyone 'cept the octopus. (And seriously - they had signs up by the octopus tank advising you not to flash the poor guy.) Afterwards we walked down Cannery Row, window-shopping and taking in the sights, and then went to pick up my brother, who celebrated his 18th birthday by seeing the Christian rapper T-Bone at Spirit West Coast.

One more week before youth camp - woooooooooooohoo! The only thing I'm a lil' concerned about is registering for next semester's classes, which I have to do while I'm at camp. So long as they have a rotary phone somewhere nearby, I'll be fine, though.

I'm living just as the century ends.

A great leaf, that God and you and I
have covered with writing
turns now, overhead, in strange hands.
We feel the sweep of it like the wind.

We see the brightness of a new page
where everything yet can happen.

Unmoved by us, the fates take its measure
and look at one another, saying nothing.

- Rilke, from The Book of Hours
Perhaps this poem could've been more ideal for New Year's, but since this year marks the beginning of a new century (and a new milennium), it doesn't really matter (to me, anyway) when this poem is posted. And, oh yes! An L.T. post pointed me in the direction of this extremely beautiful poem; I hope you get lost in it as much as I did - certain parts of it especially appealed to me, buuuuuuuut, well, I won't say which parts. *S* I'm just a brat like that sometimes - heehee.



07.27.01 >1946

It feels rather strange to see a child crawling around our house again. Not that that's bad - the boy who's making all the noise right now is such a cute little guy!

Tomorrow we head for the aquarium. I'm so excited!


>1126

My gosh - yesterday's solitary post sounds so pathetic!

You see, I want a lot.
Maybe I want it all:
the darkness of each endless fall,
the shimmering light of each ascent.

So many are alive who don't seem to care.
Casual, easy, they move in the world
as though untouched.

But you take pleasure in the faces
of those who know they thirst.
You cherish those
who grip you for survival.

You are not dead yet, it's not too late
to open your depths by plunging into them
and drink in the life
that reveals itself quietly there.

- Rainer Maria Rilke
from Book of Hours : Love Poems to God
I need to buy a copy of this book. This poet writes such great stuff.



07.26.01 >1808

Ya know, I feel kinda horrible right now and I'm not sure why. This is, needless to say, very bad.



07.25.01 >1915

verse of the week : "better is one day in your courts than a thousand elsewhere." psalm 84 : 10a

blog of the week : Richard's Dish

quote of the week : "Those who do not know how to weep with their whole heart don't know how to laugh either." - Golda Meir


>1257

I seem to forget what I want to post the second before the page editor pops up. Grrrr . . .

This
(c) -Ralph Angel-

Today, my love,
leaves are thrashing the wind
just as pedestrians are erecting again the buildings of this drab
forbidding city,
and our lives, as I lose track of them,
are the lives of others derailing in time and
getting things done.
Impossible to make sense of any one face
or mouth, though
each distance
is clear, and you are miles
from here.
Let your pure
space crowd my heart,
that we might stay a little while longer amid the flying
debris.
This moment,
I swear it,
isn't going anywhere.
Do you know what absolutely amazes me?

It's the fact that a majority of Christians seem to have driven themselves into a corner and built a rock wall to keep 'em hemmed in there. Actually, it's rather sad. There's a book out by Bob Briner called Roaring Lambs that pretty much challenges believers to get outta the corner and get into the real world. IMO, I think some folks are afraid of the criticism they'll get from seculars - to tell ye the truth, I think we bring the criticism down on ourselves. This book is definitely worth a read, though.

Yahooooo! Monterey, here we come!



07.24.01 >1809

I've been eating fried rice non-stop since I came home for the summer. (Well, not all the time, just a lot more frequently than usual, it seems.) This is one dish I need to learn how to make before the fall semester starts!

What are your favorite comics? I could name a dozen that I try to read on a daily basis, but there's one series that doesn't appear in the papers and has been a favorite of mine for as long as I could remember : The Adventures of Tintin. Yeah, baby - Tintin rocks!


>1022

Now this is one sweet pic. 'Tis the Red Spider Nebula!



07.23.01 >1844

I came across this book of poetry written by a 13th century Sufi mystic called Jelaluddin Rumi (Sufis are Muslim, so this guy isn't Jewish as I first thought he was - my bad!); I'm still going through the book, but I've noticed some interesting things about his poetry already. For one thing, he writes in prose form, but most of his poetry has a story with some sort of moral - or more than one moral, even - embedded in the tale. He starts to tell the story within the poem, then suddenly interrupts with little bits of advice or "discussion," then jumps back into the story again. 'Tis pretty neat - or interesting, to say the least. And then the rest of the poetry are lil' stanzas that come under one loose heading. Here's one piece :

All day I think about it, then at night I say it.
Where did I come from, and what am I supposed to be doing?
I have no idea.
My soul is from elsewhere, I'm sure of that,
and I intend to end up there.

This drunkenness began in some other tavern.
When I get back around to that place,
I'll be completely sober. Meanwhile,
I'm like a bird from another continent, sitting in this aviary.
The day is coming when I fly off,
but who is it now in my ear who hears my voice?
Who says words with my mouth?

Who looks out with my eyes? What is the soul?
I cannot stop asking.
If I could taste one sip of an answer,
I could break out of this prison for drunks.
I didn't come here of my own accord, and I can't leave that way.
Whoever brought me here will have to take me home.

This poetry. I never know what I'm going to say.
I don't plan it.
When I'm outside the saying of it,
I get very quiet and rarely speak at all.
Still going through Rilke's stuff at the same time. What can I say? There's too much good poetry out there, still waiting to be found.



07.22.01 >2313

I dunno what button I pressed, but if I have to post this a third time, I won't be a happy camper.

How much fun exactly can you cram into one weekend??

If you are a storyteller, then I applaud you ; you have one of the best jobs that has ever existed since mankind was first created. I heard several stories today, told by master storytellers who knew how to keep their audience captivated, and I think one of 'em got a lot of practice because he has an especially receptive audience : children. More power to ya, man.

Got back about an hour ago from a surprise b-day party for two of the youths I know from church - brothers, really. The ranch where the party was held is so gorgeous : there's the barn and corrals where the horses and sheep are kept (I wouldn't exactly include this in the "gorgeous" part), the huge backyard that's comprised of a basketball court, a deck, and a pool, the house itself (totally country), and the acres of land that surround the property. Country living, California style. Yeah!

A gal friend from church sang this song today, a very touching and simple song with lyrics that definitely echo through my life :

The pathway is broken
and the signs are unclear
And I don't know the reason
why You brought me here
But just because You love me
the way that You do
I'm gonna walk through the valley
if You want me to

'Cause I'm not who I was
when I took my first step
And I'm clingin' to the promise
You're not through with me yet
So if all of these trials
bring me closer to You
then I will go through the fire
if You want me to

It may not be the way
I would have chosen
Well, You lead me through a world
that's not my home
But You never said it would be easy
You only said I'll never go alone

So when the whole world turns against me
and I'm all by myself
and I can't hear You answer
my cries for help
I'll remember the suff'ring
Your love put You through
And I will go through the valley
if You want me to

- "If You Want Me To"
Ginny Owens
Owens is one of the most amazing singers I've ever had the chance to watch perform a live concert. For one thing, she is blind, but she never let this handicap inhibit her from pursuing a career in music. And though no one would take her on because of her blindness, she persisted until one day a completely charmed Christian music artist by the name of Michael W. Smith decided to let her record an album for his label, Rocketown Records. And guess what?

Ginny Owens won the New Artist of the Year Award at the 2000 Dove Awards ceremony.

Sweet.



07.21.01 >2237

Today was extremely fun : imagine driving down a two-lane highway on a sunny afternoon, watching "gangs" of Harley-Davidson cyclists whiz past, on your way to a mall about an hour away. Yep, that was today. Also today was buying two new books at Borders, and checking out The Emperor's New Groove, which, while extremely hilarious, kinda overdid the sarcasm bit. (Yeah, and you're talking to a Princess of Sarcasm here. Who'da thought it?)