Branding instead of Beauty

It's the third day of my Nativity Fast, and I'm feeling fond of emotional capitalization. At least, I think so. The weather is cooling, though not cold, as though the days are a preface to sacredness, but not the Thing itself. I have to admit that I'm awful at fasting. Why do I even attempt it? I think one day I'll move past the rudimentary acquisition of discipline and begin to gain something from these moments of self-denial. I've begun reading through Isaiah, which seems fitting, because it starts out in a tone as morbid as my own feelings. Oh, how my thoughts are wandering just now. Yesterday, I finished re-reading Home, by St. Marilynne Robinson, and I feel closely connected to the character of Jack Boughton. 

Jack, the Prodigal Son, can't come home even when he is home. I feel like that sometimes. Jack hears but does not understand, and he sees but does not perceive. And he is lonely. Jack is a faithless character who was raised within the Faith (see the emotional capitalization again?). He is surrounded by others whose lives are filled with Love and Virtue, people who are reaching their arms out to him, longing to comfort him, all day long. But Jack cannot be comforted, it is the nature of his affliction to be alone in his vice. I think his character scratches at my heart so sharply because I often feel like him. I think this is one of the reasons it comforted me to read Home again, because sometimes I need to be reminded that loneliness is part of the human experience. We are born into sin, and alienated from God, after all. What could be more lonely than being at odds with the All-Perfect Creator of your own soul?

So people are lonely. Is there anything more to be said?

I'm currently terrified of reaping what I sow. There are so many verses in the Bible concerned with this general principle: "whatever one sows, that will he also reap." I'm more comfortable thinking that the great Gospel Narrative is about helping me not to reap what I sow.   . . .for all have sinned. . .   No one wants to reap the misery of a fallen humanity.

"Tell the righteous that it shall be well with them,
        for they shall eat the fruit of their deeds.
    Woe to the wicked! It shall be ill with him,
        for what his hands have dealt out shall be done to him.

In these next 37 days, I'm going to try to sow actions I'd actually be glad to harvest."



Turn my eyes from looking at worthless things and give me life in your ways.

A Day in the Life of a Bridesmaid. . .

Yesterday, my best friend of over 20 years got married. Yes, I know. Married. Here are some gratuitous photos to prove it, given here for the gratification of my own feelings. I can't go into a long description of the day, or my feelings about it, because I don't actually want to.  I will say though, that it surprised me. Each wedding I've been in is as different as each of the friends I've attended. Shall I show the photos now? Yes. I shall.

All done crying, by this point.

The Best Man got lost for a while and missed this photo opp.

Using all of my rhetorical powers.

Being the Church

So Great a Cloud of Witnesses: Distracted Musings on All Saints' Day

 

“Around your throne the saints, our brothers and sisters,

sing your praise forever.

Their glory fills us with joy,

and their communion with us in your church

gives us inspiration and strength

as we hasten our pilgrimage of faith, eager to meet them.

With their great company and all the angels

we praise your glory as we cry out with one voice:

‘Holy, holy, holy…’ “

 

Thus ends Poetry Appreciation Month. It was good while it lasted. 

Today is All Saints' Day. I had so many ideas for this day. Alas, we went on a field trip. The truth is that field trips are always secretly exhausting. It's a wonder I can hold up my head right now. In other news, my best friend is getting married in 9 days. Yet another reason why I am feeling the rush of activity rather than the inner stirrings of quietude.

Last night, I read up on some saints, thought about Hebrews 11, and read bits of Revelation. I planned to watch Millions, read St. Joan, and think about people I admire: the George Muellers and the Amy Carmichaels. I wrote out a list of All Saints' Day worthy activities. Today I even wore a white dress, but forgot to feel significant feelings about it. I'm too tired to observe such a holy day.

What can I say about all of this? We know that righteousness is possible, and real. Not just for God, but for those who love him and are called according to his purpose.

What we do know is that faith is the common factor in the lives of all these holy people. . .

Without faith, it is impossible to please God. 

Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God.