Farewell...

Farewell, blog readers. I'm moving!

http://www.infreedomborn.blogspot.com/

Do stop by and follow this one. If you're wondering, I've been doing some thinking. I needed a better title, and stronger direction for my blog.

Change is like throwing up... you'll never enjoy it 'till it's over:)

Tina

Winter of the Soul

All my life I've waited

to grow out of sin,

divorce pain

cancel lonliness



I believed a day would really come

When it's all over.

In the winter of the soul,

I realize how much it's going to take

to make everything better.

There's a reason why we all die.

The final restoration is nothing short

of completely wiping out

and restarting over again.

We live in the not yet.

When this life is so good

I'm bursting to hold in my joy,

Sometimes I Forget what the winter was like.

But, in the winter of the soul

every moment is consumed

with memories of the summer.

What it was like to be happy

                      peaceful

                joyful

    sufficient

Life is longing for joy, peace, sufficiency.

Longing never reaches.

It is in itself a kind of pleasure.

To long for the pleasure of heavan is pleasure of itself.

As I long to get there,

      to get to heavan 

How I realize the getting there is half the journey.

Mountains look stunning from

low down here on earth.

When you're among them,

you can't see them so well.

You forget that you're in mountains.

In the winter of the soul

we are conscious only that we long

to reach heavan

In heavan,

Why should we think of anything else?

It's like being in the mountains.

A few times in this life-

    glimpses of heavan

moments of joypeacesufficiency.

And we forget, for a little while, the winter.

The Illusion of Freedom

\

So I went out with a friend and we saw Sherlock Holmes- A Game of Shadows the other day. Now, I could immediatley launch into a debate about its strengths and weaknesses (the final scene by the waterfall was not only stunning- it was profoundly stunning!) but one very insignificant scene that no one will probably remember happened in the wine cellar between Holmes and a troubled anarchist whose name I never really picked up on. 

The anarchist spoke of freedom- freedom from rule. Not freedom from tyranny, but total and absolute freedom from rule. As if there is such a thing? They wanted to rule themselves, these anarchists. They wanted to be their own kings. There is, in all of this, a myth about freedom.

There are two types of freedom in this life. I'm going to come to the point quickly, if bluntly, and state:
1) freedom from God, or
2) freedom in God.

Masks, Shel Silverstein

Hello.

I feel like saying hello. You've probably noticed some renovations around here. I'm always getting bored of the backgrounds and changing things up. It probably drives you crazy. Oh well, I like this theme. I think I'll stay with it:)

I'm not sure where this is going, so I'll do what I always do. I'll leave you with a poem:

irreplaceable
lost for words
I grasp your hand;
if I could speak
you'd understand
that what I'm here
searching for
is what I fear
you will ignor
'cause you can't know
the joy I get
to be with you
and be your friend
and plunge into
your chocolate eyes
swimming through
the butterfles
that carry all
my kindest words;
far away,
they're never heard.

"I am not absent minded. It is the presence of mind that makes me unaware of everything else." (attributed G.K. Chesterton)

don't be a fraid

don't be a fraid

be a bird!

take to the sky without a word

stretch your wings as you take flight

loose with all your lusty might

the secret song

that no one knows

but you and all that endless blue.