boo, the weekend is over!
This is Dune:
He looks nice, but look! He attacks the toys of innocent children!
Therefore, he doesn't get to go on night photography field trips:
Tough love, my friends. Tough love.
posted by Heather Ann @ 9:27 PM
Sunday, February 18, 2007
He looks nice, but look! He attacks the toys of innocent children!
Therefore, he doesn't get to go on night photography field trips:
Tough love, my friends. Tough love.
6 Comments:
wow. excellent nighttime photography. seriously
is that you h-a with the tights and the socks over top? ;) pretty artsy!
In fact, that is Linda, Ada's mother. She is one hot mama!
My faith is dying.
I have often wondered about that seed that fell on rocky ground? To sprout up so quickly only to wither and die. What does it feel like when fate becomes apparent? What does it feel like to see the sun, knowing the soil too shallow to sustain life?
Surely, it must have searched for some good soil to take root in. Surely, it must have, with desperation, searched in vain for nutrition. Did it return to places that were once found to be rich only to discover them now to be empty? What prayers must have been spoken, what pleas must have been made, to find just one more drop of water and yet, none was to come.
Am I this seed that fell on rocky ground? Destined to be overcome because I was scattered rather than sown?
As I am being scorched, will I, like Jesus, cry out “I thirst” yet receive no drink?
And what of my joy, is it so easily lost, never again to be regained?
****
Am I this rocky ground, that, for a time, experiences the feeling of life growing from within but is cursed to know this feeling only as a memory?
Can the ground till itself?
Surely, this barren ground, which has known no life, would have begged the rain to fall and nourish what it could not.
Why do we speak so often about the richness of the soil? Does a seed determine on what soil it is to fall? Does the soil determine how it is constituted? Can a plant uproot itself?
This parable has followed me since my first and defining reading of the Bible. Like a prophetic word to my soul, the pronouncement of the end of the beginning came. What am I to do? What can I do? How am I to receive this Word from God about my very nature?
I have known bareness for much of my life. A wilderness without beauty, a home for wanderers and exiles, able to sustain no one. A floor from which others might collect their daily bread but unable to receive this bread as nourishment for itself.
I do not know this good soil, or what it is like to yield a rich harvest. I know only the richness of empty and the harvest of waiting. And so, joy eludes me, occasionally it will find a home but only for a time. For a time it torments me with the thought of everlasting.
And what of my faith, when it is dead and no hope remains what will I find? Will I find a faith that is not my own? Will I find a hope apart from my hopes?
If I find nothing of these will love still remain? Will it betray my hurt and long for Christ? It is said, “love covers a multitude of sins” or even that “love covers all wrongs.” Is this then, how Christ will be my salvation?
Will this be enough?
Context.
I realized that to get my anonymous post might need to be put in some context.
I came across your website by accident and was captivated by reading your account of "Faith Dissolved" but was unable to post there and a little shy to email thus the anonymous post.
Good lord! That cat is bigger than the kid!
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