The day, now, arrives Abstract as splotches dripped from A hard-shaken brush; What fading becomes, of us, When we hardly stay in touch? We wake, lightning stroke, Days so many thoughts provoke; We used to get up early so we could ski on the lake before other campers got in the water. Often fog would lie in stillness until we cleaved it, Fog on lake, like smoke. Those great heavy stones, So originally placed; Existence has weight. Consciousness becoming clear in daybreak’s glamorous glare. Creativity anchored within Love so deep, Summer songs repeat.
Sometimes I scroll Facebook, Instagram, or X. I post a few likes and a comment or three. Occasionally, I share something that came to my mind. Often, I feel a little guilty for spending precious time that way. Is it a waste of time? People may say it is, but it is a conduit for interaction with others in the world out there beyond my screens. I think they are just as desperate for someone to notice they have taken the time to create a thing and launch it into another mind as I am.
Are the people who crusade against spending time “scrolling” not also using their own platforms for the exhortations? We bask in the reality that our lives are bigger than our bodies. It has always been that way, but our social media allow us to know in a concrete way that we make waves in the fabric of time and space.
Okay, I know words or pictures on a screen are not concrete, but the mind behind what so magically appears and the one that sees it and adds it to the stores within his or her brain are real. Transmission of information is the culmination of millions of hours of effort by people, human beings, whose identities we never know. Their effectiveness in changing our lives is not diminished by our not being in the space with them, working to make these wonders exist.
It is easy to believe in Jesus when we think about how we have the Holy Bible with us, even as we believe someone or something real created what we experience on screen. We, ourselves, know so little of how our being settles onto a screen in front of us and before someone in another space that we can compare it to prayer. We are here, and creativity, the Lord, and another soul almost seem as nebulous as molecules and atoms. We trust that “scientific facts” are true, though we may fail to understand their workings at all. Science and God are in definite ways connected; those who began to explore and relate the references society has built itself around believed in God and were not in opposition to His Being.
We exist within the mind of the LORD, and we also live in the throne room of Heaven. Should we then be more mindful in the conduct of our lives? I believe so. Is scrolling the World Wide Web a transgression? No more than other actions we take. As my parents often reminded me, “All things in moderation.” This is the information that imbues all parts of life with meaning. We, being consumed by any portion of life to the exclusion of others that hold as much or greater importance, are wasteful. On a level of pure being and meaning, we have work we must do. Work that changes lives, mine, and yours. Our purpose is Love for God and one another.
Um, I say writing is just talking on the page. As my audio conversations get carried away, because my brain is neurodivergent, so has this session of writing. Thank you for your participation in my creation. I hope you know that, as I can write, so can you. You have valuable thoughts to share. Please give yourself permission to say what your truth is on the page and share it with others who may need your voice to give them their own.
May the Lord Jesus Christ be with you always through His Spirit. I hope you experience peace and Love abundantly and receive multitudes of blessings. Returning you to your regularly scheduled programming. Do not forget you are Loved extravagantly and never alone.
I am sure others Are more stable and able But I still love life Even when it causes tears, I can say, “Thank God today!” When hard things rain down There is comfort to be found In knowing Jesus Holds my life His steadfast hands I have faith He understands. Giving everything To the Lord, trusting His work God gives me my worth Nothing on Earth can take it Because nothing here made it. Mercy, grace, give me hope, Redeemed, made whiter than snow By the Lamb of God Who Loves me eternally Christ Jesus safety bestows.
When grief hits me like a stone, and I wish for my old home that can never be restored, I take shelter in the Lord. I have learned that days are often beyond my control, but prayer lends a foundation to continue on.
Life may not go well at all times, but it is still, underneath the anguish, well with my soul. Jesus can handle the storms and bring me through, maybe shaken, but not destroyed.
I am thankful: 1. I have a church. 2. Creativity works. 3. There is fresh water. 4. I have things to help when my mind makes a mess of me. 5. There are people I love who love me.
What are you thankful for today? Noticing things that bring gratitude can enrich lives. I invite you to make a list, if only mentally; writing works well because it solidifies concepts and gives them depth.
I do not post as often as possible, but my journal absorbs thoughts daily.
PROMPT: Write down a few thoughts today, especially if your life challenges you right now.
Thank you for visiting my site and lending me a bit of your attention. So many things take time, and I am very glad you chose to read this entry.
May God bless you abundantly from His riches in Christ Jesus.
Please follow, like, and possibly share the site with someone else who might find it helpful.
I hope today finds you well and I pray God’s abundant blessings on you.
Prompt: Find time to create something during your day. Even if it is just working in a journal like I have here, you need to express yourself in your media of choice.
If you will, please comment, follow, and like what you found here.
You are precious, loved, and worthy. I hope you find hope and joy each day.
I looked up and there was a two-handled door. I had never, I remembered, seen this here before. My mind began to hypothesize what might be beyond it, what great secrets I might see. Was it reality or only fantasy that was drawing me?
I thought I glimpsed a sundrop and a trace of moonlight, too. There was within the moment a task, which I must do. No one else was around to see this portion, this vision given me. The door beguiled me, it emptied me of doubt and cast my fears away.
As my hands touched the smooth cool handles and gripped both tight enough to open up the door, there was a whisper, perhaps I heard. It spoke, “Oh, now careful be, monsters are living in the spaces between yesterday and whatever can be, you see. The door is closed to prevent catastrophe. We need not enter, the adventure will exact a fee, as it has throughout history.”
I was so excited by the mystery, the words of caution had no effect on me. There was a click, a swish, and my eyes met so suddenly with something somewhat other, extraordinary. It seemed this strange door opened on a world even my creative brain had never before imagined could be.
Though the coastal breeze still brought the tang of a salt-tempered sea there were magenta-toned mountains just a little in the distance before me. I blinked and then stifled a shudder of fascinated glee. Ah, why did I hesitate? This was everything I ever hoped to encounter, a stratospheric milieu, a part of which I would be. Beyond this instant was an infinity stretching into eternity.
I stepped over the threshold and the door clicked quickly shut behind me. I reached back, pushed against the handles and found them locked. A momentary worry, then it deserted me. I was becoming a part of this uniquely beautiful country, more spectacular than even well-kept dreams. I was ready, primed for discovery.
This house sometimes brings me stunning opportunities for awesome unreal images like I have never seen. This one was ripe for the taking and caught my imagination.
Prompt: Stay alert for images that can ignite your imagination and lead to idea generation. Your mind is a creativity engine much more advanced than the most capable AI. Dream, imagine, make, and create.
Remembering We are more than Pieces of refuse Regurgitated Onto the ground. We have Worth, Spaces; Some things To give A world Narrowed by Misunderstanding. Where we Live is in The essence of Being. There is no Us Without God Who injects Us with Hope Beyond Measure. Our thoughts Become Tangible when Consigned to Words Voiced or On a page. No one Can take Meaning, Purpose, From us. These live Within the heart, Soul of us. There are heights To scale And we reach Up to grab Hold of Inspiration Which makes Dreams true. Maybe we have Nothing to Show our Greatness, But our Story Is not Over yet. An Infinity Of Life, Love, Creativity Calls. We are Becoming Who we Will.
There are moments when nothing comes right, and then there are times we live again. The mission is to balance everything so it holds together enough that we do not die.
Anxiety can lead to panic, and our edges may fray. The trick is to tuck the fabric and sew another set of seams to help us face living alive. Those seams form a roadmap. We follow our path through the struggle and trials. However, it may not have the proper signage, and our “good path study (GPS)” may not know how to look for possibilities.
There are trips and falls along some byways. Wrong turns, lessons learned, every day we compete to better ourselves. The journey is not always fair but often lets us find simple joys. The texture of the paper beneath the pen is healing as the soul speaks. The welcome voice of family or friends bequeaths us smiles.
The opportunity to start over and come into a place where Love abounds is a beautiful blessing. No one has the answers to what we need, but if attention is paid, intuition may supply our longing. We follow our hearts and listen to our spirit’s guidance.
I am grateful I am out of the inhumane rays of the sun. Texas, this far south, never cools down. Sleep evaded me last night, but I am trying to prepare for a better night. I appreciate that God gives peace so rest and restoration occur. Nothing I do seems enough, but there still abides hope.
PROMPT: Are you coming apart or moving forward? Even in the breaking, a story is threaded through. You are moving, and that is all that is required. If you have your pieces of peace in order, that is wondrously grand. Create something that is a testimony of this moment in your search for purpose and meaning.
I write a lot of haiku, and the ones shown run over lines because the paper is not very big. You should try writing this counted syllable form as a warm-up to more intense creation. The counts are 5-7-5, and there is no rhyme scheme. If you are a visual artist, you can still work on the exercise because when we write by hand, it is an artistry of its own.
I think that is as much as I have right now. I hope your day is full of blessings. Find the discipline you need to reach your creativity and fill your life until it overflows. Remember, you are forever loved. Be a star shining that you might lend another person light. Love, and then keep on loving more. This is why we are given life.
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An Agent of Spiraling Chaos 