MUL NUN-KI
27-03-2005, 16:51
A written meditation;
My search is failing like Terri Schavio. Where is God?
My computer is crashing. I can’t seem to get ahead economically. I can’t seem to move forward in a career path. I get hurt. Things break.
This effort, this quest, isn’t doing me much good. And, God out there/in here doesn’t seem too overly disturbed about it. I sure could use some direction or some overt help with this stuff, but He/She/It must have bigger things to be concerned with. Faith is so difficult. I can’t rid myself of it, and I can’t seem to perfect it either. How can I be so stuck that I feel unglued?
It’s Easter Sunday. Would it be okay if I turned my life over to God? What about that? Why not go into a catatonic meditation and simply wait for instruction? Should I breathe? What is God’s will? What is free? God, all powerful. God, all love. Where is Terri’s free will? What did she do that you allow this to happen to her? What is the plan? What is the lesson that she teaches us by the sacrifice of her own life? I’m sure that there are parallels to Jesus. Will you raise her up? That would be nice. That would get some attention. God, do you see yourself failing at any time? The work of the Church isn’t always the best, but the heart of the Church isn’t wrong, is it?
That’s what I feel now God, an awful sense of sadness. My own heart is heavy with the thoughts of being wrong. Am I wasting my life waiting for you? Am I clinging to false hope?
A band of people walk along a narrow path across the savannah.
Lions charge and kill some of the nomads,
But the line just hurries along.
The dead are eaten.
The people come to a riverbank and follow the flowing course.
Crocodiles lunge from the waters edge and kill some of the travelers,
But the ranks simply close, and the people move on.
The dead are eaten.
Across a sea of time, new worlds arise.
One atop another, folding waves of stone.
The survivors climb the mountain face,
A narrow rocky trail where a misstep, or loose rock, causes someone to fall.
Watching death caused by nothing,
Knowing by those ahead that they safely crossed,
Knowing by those behind that they must continue,
The dead are left behind.
Who am I to wonder?
I am the devoured.
I am the dead.
I am the dying.
I look up, at last, to see life continue…
No differently without me,
I will be left behind.
My search is failing like Terri Schavio. Where is God?
My computer is crashing. I can’t seem to get ahead economically. I can’t seem to move forward in a career path. I get hurt. Things break.
This effort, this quest, isn’t doing me much good. And, God out there/in here doesn’t seem too overly disturbed about it. I sure could use some direction or some overt help with this stuff, but He/She/It must have bigger things to be concerned with. Faith is so difficult. I can’t rid myself of it, and I can’t seem to perfect it either. How can I be so stuck that I feel unglued?
It’s Easter Sunday. Would it be okay if I turned my life over to God? What about that? Why not go into a catatonic meditation and simply wait for instruction? Should I breathe? What is God’s will? What is free? God, all powerful. God, all love. Where is Terri’s free will? What did she do that you allow this to happen to her? What is the plan? What is the lesson that she teaches us by the sacrifice of her own life? I’m sure that there are parallels to Jesus. Will you raise her up? That would be nice. That would get some attention. God, do you see yourself failing at any time? The work of the Church isn’t always the best, but the heart of the Church isn’t wrong, is it?
That’s what I feel now God, an awful sense of sadness. My own heart is heavy with the thoughts of being wrong. Am I wasting my life waiting for you? Am I clinging to false hope?
A band of people walk along a narrow path across the savannah.
Lions charge and kill some of the nomads,
But the line just hurries along.
The dead are eaten.
The people come to a riverbank and follow the flowing course.
Crocodiles lunge from the waters edge and kill some of the travelers,
But the ranks simply close, and the people move on.
The dead are eaten.
Across a sea of time, new worlds arise.
One atop another, folding waves of stone.
The survivors climb the mountain face,
A narrow rocky trail where a misstep, or loose rock, causes someone to fall.
Watching death caused by nothing,
Knowing by those ahead that they safely crossed,
Knowing by those behind that they must continue,
The dead are left behind.
Who am I to wonder?
I am the devoured.
I am the dead.
I am the dying.
I look up, at last, to see life continue…
No differently without me,
I will be left behind.