trials of various kinds

“count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. and let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.” - james 1:2-4

    would that this were easier! it’s so hard to keep going sometimes. and i tell myself, hey, it’s gonna be okay, because i know it will be. eventually, it will be. but right now doesn’t feel okay. right now feels like God help me i’m struggling help help help—

    and i just remember sitting in a treehouse not so long ago, reading about frodo and sam and the trials they faced. and sometimes i wish i had their courage. 

    to endure.

    to keep going.

    because why would you stop whilst you’re in the fire? keep going. God’s always with you.

    (it’s gonna be okay, i tell myself. it is going to be okay.)

word weird: dream

dream

* related to the old norse draumr and the danish drøm - “merriment; noise”

* came from proto-germanic draugmas - “deception, illusion, phantasm”

* possible cognates: sanskrit druh - “seek to harm or injure”

* old english dream meant “joy, mirth, noisy merriment”, and also “music”

    * this version is different from the modern word for “sleeping vision”

    * it faded from use after early middle english

* before it meant “sleeping vision”, the old english dream (or swefn) meant “sleep”

(from “origin and history of dream”, etymonline.)

a thoughtpost

 

    there’s something irreplaceable about being out in nature. 

    alone, just you and God, wandering and listening to the rustle of leaves and chirping of birds and twinkling of the stars. 

    we don’t get that kind of aloneness much anymore. it’s just school, work, more work, and then you go to sleep dreaming about the kind of things you wish you could experience but don’t know if you ever will. 

    i miss that kind of freedom. 

a contrapuntal poem

                             

                                                                            gertrude          claudius

i love          you

you          are mine

forever and          always.

when i look at you          in the silence of dreams

i see who you used to be.          it’s you, you,

the man          i love

not the monster,        only ever

      you.

the child i used to be

sometimes i miss 

the child i used to be. 

yes, i was alone

and yes, i was naïve, 

but i didn’t care.

i didn’t care

what others thought, 

what they thought of me 

or who i was. 

i just was.

i was innocent.

trusting.

pure in heart.

i miss her, that little girl

who saw the world

so clearly

but herself

saw not at all.