in the deep blue sea
The nice thing about prayers in public is if you don't feel like praying, you can't really offend those who do - because they all have their heads bowed.
I prefer quiet, personal, solitary prayer. And I still wish on stars; I always will.
Lately I've only wanted to speak in metaphor. It makes life as a banker hard.
The stainglass of Jesus knocking at the door looks awfully stern on less sunny days. On cloudy days you can't really see it. It has the effect some paintings have of looking right at you. One Alpha Nicky was talking about knocking, and opening and inviting Jesus in, and I thought about it in a variety of ways over the next few days. During Alpha and during the Sunday service I sometimes look around. I'm still listening, it's just easier sometimes to look around instead of staring forward. So after the Jesus knocking Alpha, I was at Sunday worship standing beside Kelly and we were singing and I had the words down so I was glancing around and over my left shoulder I saw for the first time the stained glass window of Jesus knocking and it was positively glowing. I almost fell over, I lost my breath and felt woozy.
I'm getting used to it now.
In my step mother's basement is a picture my Dad painted at OCA entitled "Self-Portrait". It can't be hung because he painted it years before his death and it resembles too much his visage after cancer and chemo took their turns with him. Art transcends the mundane.
We didn't have a Bible anywhere to refer to after Alpha nights so I dug out my Dad's bible, it's monogrammed. My Dad found his peace with God just before learning he had cancer. I was surprised to see the gold symbol embossed on the spine: the Celtic trinity symbol. My kids and I each wear this symbol. I should have realised, I suppose, it was Christian.
This Sunday's worship service meant a lot to me and I appreciated it's lessons; I've pondered and discussed it. I'm sort of lost in water metaphors that started with an invitation to go swimming and a willful drowning and I'm envisioning ripples once the pebble has been thrown. And pebbles can't come back, just like blessings and curses, and once it's thrown it can't be unthrown but the fear of ripples can't stay your hand lest no pebbles ever be thrown.
"Keine Zerreißen seelen" and I think I ought to focus a little and make my thoughts a bit more cohesive. There was a joy and it was inspirational.
I prefer quiet, personal, solitary prayer. And I still wish on stars; I always will.
Lately I've only wanted to speak in metaphor. It makes life as a banker hard.
The stainglass of Jesus knocking at the door looks awfully stern on less sunny days. On cloudy days you can't really see it. It has the effect some paintings have of looking right at you. One Alpha Nicky was talking about knocking, and opening and inviting Jesus in, and I thought about it in a variety of ways over the next few days. During Alpha and during the Sunday service I sometimes look around. I'm still listening, it's just easier sometimes to look around instead of staring forward. So after the Jesus knocking Alpha, I was at Sunday worship standing beside Kelly and we were singing and I had the words down so I was glancing around and over my left shoulder I saw for the first time the stained glass window of Jesus knocking and it was positively glowing. I almost fell over, I lost my breath and felt woozy.
I'm getting used to it now.
In my step mother's basement is a picture my Dad painted at OCA entitled "Self-Portrait". It can't be hung because he painted it years before his death and it resembles too much his visage after cancer and chemo took their turns with him. Art transcends the mundane.
We didn't have a Bible anywhere to refer to after Alpha nights so I dug out my Dad's bible, it's monogrammed. My Dad found his peace with God just before learning he had cancer. I was surprised to see the gold symbol embossed on the spine: the Celtic trinity symbol. My kids and I each wear this symbol. I should have realised, I suppose, it was Christian.
This Sunday's worship service meant a lot to me and I appreciated it's lessons; I've pondered and discussed it. I'm sort of lost in water metaphors that started with an invitation to go swimming and a willful drowning and I'm envisioning ripples once the pebble has been thrown. And pebbles can't come back, just like blessings and curses, and once it's thrown it can't be unthrown but the fear of ripples can't stay your hand lest no pebbles ever be thrown.
"Keine Zerreißen seelen" and I think I ought to focus a little and make my thoughts a bit more cohesive. There was a joy and it was inspirational.
posted by Katrina Urquhart at 11:27 p.m.
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