<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22824972</id><updated>2011-07-07T16:29:54.689-07:00</updated><title type='text'>soulish</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22824972/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>evan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01529734194598440296</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>23</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22824972.post-2987332778019744801</id><published>2008-06-29T23:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-30T00:07:04.093-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_GKtbxBMveIc/SGiF-Srdj0I/AAAAAAAAAB8/njbUZ84gVn4/s1600-h/DSCF1899.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_GKtbxBMveIc/SGiF-Srdj0I/AAAAAAAAAB8/njbUZ84gVn4/s320/DSCF1899.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217567473521233730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;A terrible realization...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What has been done? It is not better this way. I would rather the days of ignorance and innocence for all of us, my friends. We were happier, I think. At very least we were nicer...to people, each other...to life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cut-outs and cast-aways. That is what we are. We think we are better for having questioned and challenged the confines and failures of modern christendom. We have discarded it...but failed to replace it with anything. We are destroyers, not creators. We have nothing to be proud of...no, not yet. We've burnt down the whole damn house around us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It takes more time to build than it does to destroy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let us be accursed unless we build something better, something more pure and closer to the truth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22824972-2987332778019744801?l=cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com/feeds/2987332778019744801/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22824972&amp;postID=2987332778019744801' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22824972/posts/default/2987332778019744801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22824972/posts/default/2987332778019744801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com/2008/06/terrible-realization.html' title=''/><author><name>evan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01529734194598440296</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_GKtbxBMveIc/SGiF-Srdj0I/AAAAAAAAAB8/njbUZ84gVn4/s72-c/DSCF1899.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22824972.post-1207128687052401800</id><published>2008-06-29T23:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-30T00:10:11.563-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Written Several months ago on during a glimpse of heaven's glory&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A simple perfection can be found in the subtle, smaller things the lie hidden right before our eyes in the world around us. Like lazy Sunday afternoons with freshly pressed coffee and soft, chewy cookies. It is in moments such as these that my world seems a little more like it should be, like it was intended. And in that moment I can sense eternity; eternity, in all its vastness and perfection…but mostly, eternity where existence is beautiful and always desired. For in that way, eternity is so distant from my life, where existence encumbers me and is a burden to be borne, a burden that was brought about by my birth and shall never be done away with. Thus the thought, reality of eternal existence, be it in Heaven or Hell is the constant reminder of how maddening my life is. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;But not in these few moments on Sunday afternoon. With thick, dark and hot coffee mingling in and amongst a mouthful of chocolate cookies I can believe again, for a few brief seconds. And I see eternity as a continuation of this feeling of rightness, as a fuller and even greater expression of time free from time itself, along with its worries, concerns and burdens. Thus I hope, thus I believe, thus I see and feel an existence more real (and accordingly more lovely)….&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22824972-1207128687052401800?l=cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com/feeds/1207128687052401800/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22824972&amp;postID=1207128687052401800' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22824972/posts/default/1207128687052401800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22824972/posts/default/1207128687052401800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com/2008/06/simple-perfection-can-be-found-in.html' title=''/><author><name>evan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01529734194598440296</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22824972.post-3908111416370164742</id><published>2008-02-14T20:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-14T20:41:06.481-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_GKtbxBMveIc/R7UX18UM8kI/AAAAAAAAABs/BIsxGGo0z_A/s1600-h/DSCF5873.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167062362968879682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_GKtbxBMveIc/R7UX18UM8kI/AAAAAAAAABs/BIsxGGo0z_A/s400/DSCF5873.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;No pretty words tonight. I am sitting, alone, in a coffee shop on valentines day drinking a beer and contemplating not having a job. I once said I would never be one of those people who hate valentines day. I hate it, I detest it, I abhor it with passion and fervor. Not simply from the the relationship side...for two years I have tried not to care...last year I had to work, had a raging fever and life overall sucked that day. This year I am jobless, the fruits of all my labors to find a job that will work with why I moved to Des Moines gone rotten and putrid.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;My failures dance before me tonight, hurling their stones and mocking me relentlessly. Why did I move to Des Moines...to help others...but I can't even help myself. It is a f-----g joke. This is the curse realized, thank you very much, Adam. Failure. That is the curse set down in the garden for men...failure at everything we strive for, fight for and want. Success is a forbidden fruit now, taunting us when it is out of reach...and making us sick and leaving us empty when we acheive it. Damn it all...we fight to redeem it, to do it right. I believe it can be done...but tonight that belief simply mocks me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I pick up stones to hurl back at them....i am a good worker, i am a good guy and friendly so i should be able to meet people, i am caring so i can help my friends in des moines...the stones strike naught but empty air, my failures are phantoms and they cannot be touched by my retaliations. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Mocking, mocking...relentlessly mocking.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22824972-3908111416370164742?l=cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com/feeds/3908111416370164742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22824972&amp;postID=3908111416370164742' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22824972/posts/default/3908111416370164742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22824972/posts/default/3908111416370164742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com/2008/02/no-pretty-words-tonight.html' title=''/><author><name>evan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01529734194598440296</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_GKtbxBMveIc/R7UX18UM8kI/AAAAAAAAABs/BIsxGGo0z_A/s72-c/DSCF5873.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22824972.post-6149607368840117073</id><published>2008-02-10T12:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-10T12:29:40.219-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_GKtbxBMveIc/R69egsUM8jI/AAAAAAAAABg/jQcaZlC1d88/s1600-h/DSCF1102.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165451213361967666" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_GKtbxBMveIc/R69egsUM8jI/AAAAAAAAABg/jQcaZlC1d88/s200/DSCF1102.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Go ahead, label me as a covenantal reformed person. Truth is, I 'm just stealing one of the things that I think they get right, that they do the way that I think God intended.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We need to spend more time teaching how to do it right. How to love, to work, to play, to eat, to serve, to learn, to help, to seek. Out of doing these the distinctions of right and wrong become more clear&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You've been told not to drive on the left side of the road. But you learned how to drive on the right side of the road. You need the knowledge of what is wrong...but you need to learn to do it right. If you are driving down the right side you are doing it out of habit, out of a learned pattern of doing it well. And if you veer to the left it feels wrong, you know it is wrong because you learned how to do it right, to do it well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In Hebrews it says that the knowledge of right and wrong is milk, for babies. And it is the pursuit of excellence that is more tending towards meat, maturity and growth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For most of us, excepting some such as new believers, if we are not doing right it is because we are choosing not to...not because we lack the knowledge. What we need is a kick in the ass not another fluff talk on what Scripture says is wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We should focus on how to do it right. We should set our sights on who we are to be, an image of Creator in beauty and excellence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are lazy and it takes a lot of hard work to learn to do something right. Or perhaps we'd rather just not think about it, consider it or seek out excellence. Or, as C.S. Lewis says, the problem is not that our desires are too strong, rather, they are too weak. And in their weakness we desire little and petty things tied only to this world. But were we to strengthen our desires, would we not seek greater and better things of eternal value...would we not seek to do the things of this world better and right? We would not just desire things as the world would have us, out of lust, instant gratification or self. We would desire the things of this world as God intended, as His creation, as beautiful for what they are, what they point to and what purpose they serve...as appreciating them the way God created them to be enjoyed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22824972-6149607368840117073?l=cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com/feeds/6149607368840117073/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22824972&amp;postID=6149607368840117073' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22824972/posts/default/6149607368840117073'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22824972/posts/default/6149607368840117073'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com/2008/02/go-ahead-label-me-as-covenantal_10.html' title=''/><author><name>evan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01529734194598440296</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_GKtbxBMveIc/R69egsUM8jI/AAAAAAAAABg/jQcaZlC1d88/s72-c/DSCF1102.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22824972.post-3316412077752155259</id><published>2008-01-12T02:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-12T03:15:17.041-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_GKtbxBMveIc/R4igHu0p86I/AAAAAAAAABA/RSOLJL20niE/s1600-h/One-ness.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5154545828213945250" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_GKtbxBMveIc/R4igHu0p86I/AAAAAAAAABA/RSOLJL20niE/s200/One-ness.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;A muse by the calling of Nate has spoken...thank you Nate.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;The truly Christian view of life is not more narrow than a secular view of life. In fact, the opposite is true. It is within the secular that the true narrowness exists. You are told what you cannot believe in. Everything is smaller because it is limited to this world, this life, this reality.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Sex is sex and it is enjoyable. But that is it. In &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;christendom&lt;/span&gt; sex is enjoyable also...but it is bigger...it is a picture of Christ and the Church...it was God's way of bringing salvation into the world by creating a kingly line, but also &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;transcended&lt;/span&gt; by a virgin birth. It is a gift upon marriage. It is within the intimacy of lovers that the closest thing to being one yet two can be experienced. The commitment of one marriage and one lover represents the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;commitment&lt;/span&gt; of ours to serve only the true God, but also of His covenant love and relationship with us. Our God is a creator and life-giver and this is the closest we can achieve to mirroring Him in creating life. It is flat within the secular world, it is two-dimensional. It lacks depth and meaning, it is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;cheapened&lt;/span&gt; because it is done wrong, tossed around like it there is no closeness or oneness, abused in gaining power over another. Some non-believers of this world get it right...we ought to learn from them as well. It is the call of each Christian to redeem this and do it as God intended, for then the true beauty and fullness can be realized.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Food is tasteful and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;sustenance&lt;/span&gt; to the secular. To the true Christian it is tasteful and sustenance, but even more. It is a greater joy because it is a gift, it represents Scripture and the truth as a giving life. It teaches us of God, for as varied and pleasant are the tastes, so is our God. Christians should relish food to an extent that pales the secular approach to food. Christians should redeem it as well, not choosing it in excess or loving food for foods sake...but for the gift it is from God.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Everything, excluding sin, is sacred to the believer, is to be reformed and done the way God intended it. In that is the true beauty of our present physical world. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Let us throw off the vestiges of our Gnostic past that views the material world as evil and the spiritual as right. Rather, let us redeem the material, enjoy it as God intended, and see and live for the spiritual through the material.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22824972-3316412077752155259?l=cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com/feeds/3316412077752155259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22824972&amp;postID=3316412077752155259' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22824972/posts/default/3316412077752155259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22824972/posts/default/3316412077752155259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com/2008/01/muse-by-calling-of-nate-has-spoken.html' title=''/><author><name>evan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01529734194598440296</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_GKtbxBMveIc/R4igHu0p86I/AAAAAAAAABA/RSOLJL20niE/s72-c/One-ness.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22824972.post-7633901638602254938</id><published>2007-04-21T23:06:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-22T23:51:26.358-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_GKtbxBMveIc/RixXN5Vd1OI/AAAAAAAAAAw/-1GfcyRCHI4/s1600-h/Whitney.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5056512377870996706" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_GKtbxBMveIc/RixXN5Vd1OI/AAAAAAAAAAw/-1GfcyRCHI4/s200/Whitney.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Freely, lightly she runs in her open fields of green. Mirth inside her splashing, spilling without.. Dancing, twirling she is the little girl donning, parading a new summer dress. Proud bearer of a garment new, she is a princess, queen in her own rite. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Others (myself), once walking, treading lightly around her. I smile, face brightening, load lightening. Her giddy music reaches, wraps and weaves about me. Life, her life mixing, mingling becomes my own. I taste, see joy anew.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;But hush, wait now! Storm clouds dark, hateful &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;gather in the west. Her night comes swiftly, quickly, certainly. Tell me others (myself), will you touch, flee or wait, stay and hold her hand, a buffer against the storm be?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22824972-7633901638602254938?l=cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com/feeds/7633901638602254938/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22824972&amp;postID=7633901638602254938' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22824972/posts/default/7633901638602254938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22824972/posts/default/7633901638602254938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com/2007/04/freely-lightly-she-runs-in-her-open_21.html' title=''/><author><name>evan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01529734194598440296</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_GKtbxBMveIc/RixXN5Vd1OI/AAAAAAAAAAw/-1GfcyRCHI4/s72-c/Whitney.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22824972.post-2550474454895290106</id><published>2007-03-13T22:01:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-16T01:41:01.557-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_GKtbxBMveIc/RfpXKF03waI/AAAAAAAAAAM/mpPQlUSt5cY/s1600-h/Nuances.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_GKtbxBMveIc/RfpXKF03waI/AAAAAAAAAAM/mpPQlUSt5cY/s200/Nuances.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5042438563668935074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;A beginning, an end to an odyssey…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“…a fool can neither escape the future nor endure the present.” ~ Quintus Lucilius Balbus&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It makes me hate me, the part of me that could so easily be that way. The side that desires it and sometimes is just barely checked before it is too late.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You would do well to remember, to keep these feelings nearer, for they will serve you, they will be a guard in times of weakness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is seeing the very thing you fight for destroyed once again. It makes the battle seem so wearisome, so futile. Why choose chivalry?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is the one you want to protect but cannot, for your power is feeble and limited. Remember Evan, remember…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who am I fooling…only myself. Mock me now, deserving as I am. Scoff…I scoff at myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The point is none, the value of this life insufficient and found wanting. The scales remain un-tipped, the weight of my life as light and insubstantial as a feather. Come winds, take this life away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am the jester in the court, believing I could influence kings and queens. But they are laughing, only laughing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Starbucks is a game and I have been played.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My life of no value in affecting, reaching and loving these people. Fool that I am, fooled by myself.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22824972-2550474454895290106?l=cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com/feeds/2550474454895290106/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22824972&amp;postID=2550474454895290106' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22824972/posts/default/2550474454895290106'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22824972/posts/default/2550474454895290106'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com/2007/03/beginning-and-end-to-odyssey-fool-can_13.html' title=''/><author><name>evan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01529734194598440296</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_GKtbxBMveIc/RfpXKF03waI/AAAAAAAAAAM/mpPQlUSt5cY/s72-c/Nuances.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22824972.post-117360927187477052</id><published>2007-03-11T01:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-11T04:34:31.886-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7178/2327/1600/791509/15.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7178/2327/320/526153/15.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;2/9/07&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Who knew what awaited, what riches of remembrance and experience lay hidden, soon to be discovered but just minutes away?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;There is a strong and powerful sense, one that is anchored in the the depths of our souls, one which most of know intimately...it is that of coming home. How can such a feeling be described? It surpasses and is higher than familiarity...the way the front door squeaks when you open it, the family who embraces you upon your entrance and even the view out your front window. It is all that and a thousand other details, both grand and minute. It evokes warmth, comfort and happiness...even giddiness and silliness.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Now reader, wrap those thoughts about you like a cloak, clothe yourself in them as you read on...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Presently I walk into the warehouse pub, tucked away in a corner of the glenwood square. The crowd is small, small like a group of friends is small, welcoming and unintimidating. My eyes gaze about the room, absorbing colors and light, my heart collects it all and stores it away.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;The group before me is mostly older, aged and settled. Pints of beer sit on the table before them, some full, some not. They are testimony to the ambiance of relaxedness, like that of a lazy summer evening. The scattered smiles, laughter and casual conversation speak clearly to the purpose of the night. It is an experience to be richly and lavishly enjoyed. Not one of drinking for drinking's sake or getting drunk. No, it is an appreciation of a good beer, the taste of malty, hoppy flavors mingled with promises of summer. It is a social time to connect and share life. It is live music and talking with pub musicians who care more about music than money.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Words fail me, how can such a time as this be penned onto paper?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Half a pint later the older hippie gentleman sitting next to me at the bar turns my way and conversation soon flows, as it should while sitting at the bar. Strangers meeting and shooting the breeze, talking about the music, the band and great musicians of the past. We might as well be old friends, out for an evening together. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I love all of it, the tumbling and cascading music, the beer for the taste of a drink well brewed, and above all, the conversation with an "old soul" who has seen and tasted so much more of life than I have. It is like coming upon a deep well with new and undiscovered waters...there is so much to be drawn from it...so much to be learned from this life of my hippie friend. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;How it stirs memories of my times at Isabellas, tending bar and meeting so many people who were interested in me, who loved life for life's sake. They taught, simply through sharing and I sat as a student, eager and ready to learn, as excited as a school-boy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;My generation has much to learn...so few of us have seen this side of the world, few know what it really is to step into that perfect pub world that I got to taste once again tonight. Tomorrow night I probably could go back and none of this would exist, the magic faded...for it is not just a place, but rather an ethereal sense...truly magic. It is like fog that envelops a valley and lends it a mystical feeling but can just as soon vanish with the coming of the morning sun.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22824972-117360927187477052?l=cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com/feeds/117360927187477052/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22824972&amp;postID=117360927187477052' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22824972/posts/default/117360927187477052'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22824972/posts/default/117360927187477052'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com/2007/03/2907-who-knew-what-awaited-what-riches.html' title=''/><author><name>evan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01529734194598440296</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22824972.post-116989015820584388</id><published>2007-01-27T01:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-28T03:46:35.866-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7178/2327/1600/733261/Nate%206.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7178/2327/200/341188/Nate%206.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;There is to be an intertwining, a blessed and glorious one of our passions and God's passion for us, of personal excellence and God's excellence. The one should exemplify the other, a richness and intoxication of perfecting. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Oh word that does not exist, word to destroy the dichotomy; word that recognizes selfish pursuit of music (choose your gifting, passion) is not excellent, but neither is neglect of music "in pursuit of God" excellence either. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;But in persuing music one finds God in new ways and in the pursuing of God one truly discovers music in all its richness! Yes, this is excellence!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22824972-116989015820584388?l=cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com/feeds/116989015820584388/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22824972&amp;postID=116989015820584388' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22824972/posts/default/116989015820584388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22824972/posts/default/116989015820584388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com/2007/01/there-is-to-be-intertwining-blessed.html' title=''/><author><name>evan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01529734194598440296</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22824972.post-116565751994238786</id><published>2006-12-09T01:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-05-19T21:14:06.848-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7178/2327/1600/130035/ImminentSmall.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7178/2327/320/165414/ImminentSmall.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Are you &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;blind to how infinitely frail your life is? How is it that one can live so carelessly and unaware of this monstrous truth?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Gather, in your mind's eye, a handful of your most loved family and friends. Reminisce of laughter and tears shared, of the hugs and smiles. Remove one, yes just one of those loved ones from your life. Bring to an end their life in the imagination you possess. Can you fathom their death without a startling, overwhelming and gripping terror? Every day this inconsolable loss cuts mercilessly into the hearts of people all around us. And for the entirety of your life it is but a breathe away from stealing one of your own.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Now reader, if you still possess strength, number the treasures around you. A job. A car. A home. A computer. Label and list them. Now remove one from your life. Your car is lost to you. Have you the means to replace it tomorrow? How will you travel to and from work, visit friends and family, buy groceries? It is such a material and tenuous way of life and yet everyday they are stolen, wrecked and beset by breaking downs. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;What of your health and physical vitality? Can you afford to lose either, yet so often lost they are.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Monstrous and pervasive is loss and it dangles but by a thread above your life, needing only the slightest disturbance to slip free and come crashing down upon you, gobbling with appetite insatiable anything precious in your life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Live moment by moment with the realization and dread and you shall soon go mad. Forget the imminence of loss and proud and thankless you shall become.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;How now shall we live? Is there not even the vestitude of hope in this madness?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Within stark realization there is only suicide awaiting. Within distraction and diversion there is but frivolity. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Within the sense of the eternal there is hope...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22824972-116565751994238786?l=cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com/feeds/116565751994238786/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22824972&amp;postID=116565751994238786' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22824972/posts/default/116565751994238786'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22824972/posts/default/116565751994238786'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com/2006/12/are-you-blind-to-how-infinitely-frail.html' title=''/><author><name>evan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01529734194598440296</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22824972.post-116236886861383264</id><published>2006-10-31T23:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T00:16:32.296-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7178/2327/1600/DSCF1387.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7178/2327/400/DSCF1387.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;All Hollow's Eve. History has a dark shadow of men and women who believed that goblins, witches and demons broke through the fabric of the their world into ours on this late night in October. Thus they cloaked themselves in a semblance of the very evil they feared, seeking safety in the covering of dark rather than standing in the light...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;My demons prowl tonight, ever constant as they are. Despite my own I ache in thought of my dear friends and the demons that haunt them. Souls torn by confusion and uncertainty about life, hearts despairing through lack of desire for life itself, spirits weary in the tumult of relationships...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I long to tell them that it will be ok, that there is hope and light and freedom. Is the man bound in chains in the dark and forgotten pit of seclusion right to speak to another such soul of the light and hope...light and hope that he can envision yet fails to see?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Black like the obsidian stout before me and the night suffocating around me...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I crave the extrordinary but fail at the normality. Oh demons haunt my soul tonight, play your games and your twisted songs, give life to the darkness you carry upon the paths you tread.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22824972-116236886861383264?l=cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com/feeds/116236886861383264/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22824972&amp;postID=116236886861383264' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22824972/posts/default/116236886861383264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22824972/posts/default/116236886861383264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com/2006/10/all-hollows-eve.html' title=''/><author><name>evan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01529734194598440296</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22824972.post-115690853485296397</id><published>2006-08-29T20:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-29T20:28:54.866-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7178/2327/1600/of%20dust%20i%20am.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7178/2327/320/of%20dust%20i%20am.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Why is it, that even the thought of, and so much more the act of "going to church" so stirs me within? What is the source of the discomfort, the turmoil, the feelings of flight that grip me to the depth of my soul?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I'm not against the concept of church. I'm not even against church.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I have traveled some barren and unforgiving roads. I have been robbed, perhaps even gave up, of the core tenants of faith and God. I have journeyed and rediscovered (these), been given and taught once again. But none of this was given through the American Christian Culture. In fact, I have avoided and stayed my feet from walking those paths. I have sought and been sought by God through other means; individuals, nature, writers of old and philosophers, experience, scripture, working, eating, breathing...living. I wanted and want to know God in all of that...and directly...apart from A.C.C. (American Christian Culture).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;What would, what could faith look like apart and free from A.C.C.? I am not altogether against A.C.C. God uses culture to capture faith and parts of who He is. Scripture is proof of this, for it is the divine story rooted in culture. Faith transcends culture of course, but it is given to people within culture. And so I recognize this about A.C.C. There are good things about it and bad things about it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I need God and faith, but I need it apart from A.C.C. for a while longer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;And so I enter church, I enter part of A.C.C. and it turns my stomach inside out. I want to know God and faith, I want to read and experience scripture's truth...but I long to do it outside the confines of A.C.C. And perhaps when I have done that I can then stomach A.C.C. and live God and faith in it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22824972-115690853485296397?l=cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com/feeds/115690853485296397/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22824972&amp;postID=115690853485296397' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22824972/posts/default/115690853485296397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22824972/posts/default/115690853485296397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com/2006/08/why-is-it-that-even-thought-of-and-so.html' title=''/><author><name>evan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01529734194598440296</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22824972.post-115550587278274008</id><published>2006-08-13T14:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-13T14:51:12.796-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7178/2327/1600/Two%20Shall%20Become%20One.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7178/2327/320/Two%20Shall%20Become%20One.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I think Callie called me a mystic tonight...I think I like it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Mysticism, the mystical side of God, the world, the creation. And I have been seeing it, embracing it. Not as a whole or a complete or a standalone. But certainly as essential, a vital part of the faith/knowledge and mystical/theology relationship. Did I grow up without it? No, now that I think about it I realize it was the very thing that made God real to me...it was just on a level for my younger soul. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;For a 1 yr old the thrill and mystery can come from tenuously plinking a key on a piano. That sound, so mystical and new, stunning. An adult is thrilled by Beethoven, the brilliant plinking of many keys... And so as a child the mysticism added faith and heart to the knowledge. But as I have grown, so must my view of the mystical grow. No longer simply plinking a key, but a chorus organized by Beethoven.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I think the mysticism of God comes much more easily to a child than an adult. An adult can loose themselves simply in the theology of Beethoven, the black on white notes, the music structure, ect. All that is good, excellent and necessary...but not enough. An adult must also close their eyes and let that music wash over their mind and soul...that structured, studied, practiced...yet mystical, indescribable and powerful cadence.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;And in like form we have the theology and the structure...and the mystery and incomprehensible fullness of God. And the two can stand in tension...or better yet, they wed and the two become one in glorious matrimony ...a thing that is altogether a mystery as well.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I am mystic and theologian, seeking the fullness of each, each being fully known in my life so that they can wed in holy matrimony...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22824972-115550587278274008?l=cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com/feeds/115550587278274008/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22824972&amp;postID=115550587278274008' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22824972/posts/default/115550587278274008'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22824972/posts/default/115550587278274008'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com/2006/08/i-think-callie-called-me-mystic.html' title=''/><author><name>evan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01529734194598440296</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22824972.post-115404572139304709</id><published>2006-07-27T17:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-27T17:18:44.256-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7178/2327/1600/the%20best%20thing%20in%20south%20dakota%20(full).2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7178/2327/200/the%20best%20thing%20in%20south%20dakota%20%28full%29.1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Click...how do you want to live your life? Click...it is a button on a remote, a shutter in a camera, the hammer striking the bullet that could end your life, the laser striking the CD that plays your song, that split second before your clock radio wrests you from sleep. Click...it is a movie for most but a paradigm, and a paradoxical one at that, for me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;How does one live fully today and yet fully for the future? Click...how do you want to live your life?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Does a person decide to exercise and eat healthy (the today) and thus they lose weight and become physically fit (the future)? Or does a person decide to lose weight and become physically fit (the future) and thus they exercise and eat healthy (the today)?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;The living for the future gives meaning and direction for the today. The living for today gives life and realization for the future.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Yes...no...maybe...it is incomplete. The above solves the future but leaves the today still slightly lacking. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;If we fail to live in the today we fail to have the sustenance that feeds the mind, body and soul. O grand paradox, oh delicate balance, oh trial of trials!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;To see it realized... A person can run simply out of the future joy of becoming physically fit. But if that is it, they are missing out. But what if they choose to and thus fall in love with running itself, they feel joy as their feet strike the ground, as the breeze hits their face, as their muscles ache yet tingle as they gain endurance...thus their is so much joy in the action itself...then couple and wed that with the joy of knowing physical fitness is theirs for the having in the future. The two joys...do they thus wed, becoming one in perfect and holy matrimony? Is this what it is to live fully in today whilst fully for the future?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;It is a glorious vision...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22824972-115404572139304709?l=cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com/feeds/115404572139304709/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22824972&amp;postID=115404572139304709' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22824972/posts/default/115404572139304709'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22824972/posts/default/115404572139304709'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com/2006/07/click.html' title=''/><author><name>evan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01529734194598440296</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22824972.post-115208770586849565</id><published>2006-07-05T00:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-05T01:28:07.323-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7178/2327/1600/kierkegaard2.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7178/2327/200/kierkegaard2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7178/2327/1600/kierkegaard2.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Perhaps the power contained in writing is that often it chooses us rather than us choosing it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Written August 2005:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I was in a big Christian bookstore. I browsed through many sections, including self-help, relationships and psychology. I picked up more than a few books to glance over their contents and skim the back cover. Most make some claim that they hold the key to to finally unlock that door in your life....bring power to your powerless life...provide that missing piece that you have been looking for...give you the knowledge you need in order to be a whole person...provide some sure guide, can't-live-without-it answer to post graduate students, budding lovers, lost lovers, depressed, sad, angry, single moms, single dads, scared highschoolers, akward jrhighers, the joyless, the joyful...and on and on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;It really was something else. If I were to believe the message being sent to me then I would have to accept that I will always be vitally lacking in all these different areas....UNTIL...I read THIS book that has THE answer to my problem. Except...there are too many books and they all claim that I must read if I am to really get it together in such and such area. And that is the message from Christendom! Damn.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Maybe it is not that simple...or that complicated. Maybe we are so entirely messed up as fallen humans and/or so glorious because of bearing the image of Christ that it is ok for us to be screwed up and go through this life doing the best we can. Or maybe it is because of the glory and clean state through which God sees us as more beautiful than we see ourselves. Maybe it is both and we just spend too much time thinking about it and not enough time living and loving God and people.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I am not against self-help books as a whole. They help lots of people...they've never really done much for me. I am more against the messege that is being sent by them. "Read me and I will give you the answers you need as such and such person, answers that if you don't have you really can't make it." Sounds like a good marketing scheme. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I shall return to my Kierkegaard, Dantes and Pascal. Somehow they lend so much more to my life than "101 Things Every College Graduate Must Know." Thank God for the writers of old He has given to us.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I shall return to my God, Scripture and People. Somehow they lend so much more to my life than "How To Be A Happy Christian." Thank God for the eternal things that He has given to us.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22824972-115208770586849565?l=cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com/feeds/115208770586849565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22824972&amp;postID=115208770586849565' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22824972/posts/default/115208770586849565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22824972/posts/default/115208770586849565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com/2006/07/perhaps-power-contained-in-writing-is.html' title=''/><author><name>evan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01529734194598440296</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22824972.post-115130034693220512</id><published>2006-06-25T21:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-25T22:41:19.553-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7178/2327/1600/Twin%20Sisters.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7178/2327/320/Twin%20Sisters.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7178/2327/1600/Twin%20Sisters.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;It is the "moods" or the "spirit" that matter. Nature lovers want to receive as fully as possible whatever nature, at each particular time and place, is, so to speak, saying. The obvious richness, grace and harmony of some scenes are no more precious to them than the grimness, bleakness, terror, monotony, or "visionary dreariness" of others. The featureless itself gets from them a willing response. It is one more word uttered by nature. They lay themselves bare to the sheer quality of every countryside, every hour of the day. They want to absorb it into themselves, to be colored through and through by it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Many people -- I am one myself -- would never, but for what nature does to us, have had any content to put into words we must use in confessing our faith. Nature never taught me that there exists a God of glory and of infinite majesty. I had to learn that in other ways. &lt;strong&gt;But nature gave the word &lt;em&gt;glory&lt;/em&gt; a meaning for me.&lt;/strong&gt; I still do not know where else I could have found one. And if nature had never awakened certain longings in me, huge areas of what I can now mean by the "love" of God would never, so far as I can see, have existed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;It was stunning to read the above in C.S. Lewis' "The Four Loves" today. He comes out and says what I have been learning first hand over the past few months. Phenomenal. So much more I long to write but words escape me tonight.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22824972-115130034693220512?l=cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com/feeds/115130034693220512/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22824972&amp;postID=115130034693220512' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22824972/posts/default/115130034693220512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22824972/posts/default/115130034693220512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com/2006/06/it-is-moods-or-spirit-that-matter.html' title=''/><author><name>evan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01529734194598440296</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22824972.post-115031952529141548</id><published>2006-06-14T13:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-14T14:12:05.306-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7178/2327/1600/gloryglory.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7178/2327/320/gloryglory.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Written June 3rd, 2006&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Are Christians so intent on God's glory as glory that they really miss it all? To say, "This wedding is not really about the wedding or the bride or the groom, it is about the glory of God..." And thus the glory of God becomes this distant, nebulas thing and we are so focused on "God's glory" (whatever that is) that we miss the wedding, the bride, the groom, the festivities...all of which, I think, are part of God's glory. Did not God create these people, these festivities, these unions? And if we recognize that and thus proceed to fully drink in all of these experiences, tasting of them and enjoying them, immersing ourselves in them...is not that a truer and holier recognition and expression of God's glory and our worship of Him?!?! What have we done in Christendom, what have we done?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;If I had a lover, one whom I could not see face to face...but one whom everything around belonged... Lets say I lived in her house, even though she herself were absent. But the house and everything in it belonged to her, was chosen by her and set up by her. I could choose to spend my days wistfully desiring her presence, her glory, all of who she is. I could get caught up in the nebulas desire for her. I could spend all my time reading over and over the letters she had written to me and write constantly to her. I could say that simply reading her letters and writing her was enough, was sufficient to fully know and experience her. OR I could also spend many of my hours exploring every nook and cranny of this house, touching and feeling every item placed in it...but not simply for the sake of doing it, but for the sake of learning of her as she revealed more and more of who she is through everything around me. And then I would write her often, telling her, thanking her, praising her for all that she had given me that speaks of her and who she is. And I would get to love her and know her more and more each day and every day...through everything that was around me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;...I think I just found God again...or He just found me...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;And Scripture is a guidebook, truth to guide us through this life. Scripture shows us authoritatively and truthfully who God is, His character. But we are not to stop with Scripture. It is vitally necessary, but it is not sufficient alone. It is the "Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy." It is the letters from the lover to guide me around this house in which everything speaks of her. And this world screams of God and He is revealing Himself daily to me through it, reaching out to me, drawing me in. Oh glory, it makes sense now. It fits. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Becoming contemporary with Christ...with God. Kierkegaard had stumbled upon a great truth. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22824972-115031952529141548?l=cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com/feeds/115031952529141548/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22824972&amp;postID=115031952529141548' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22824972/posts/default/115031952529141548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22824972/posts/default/115031952529141548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com/2006/06/written-june-3rd-2006-are-christians.html' title=''/><author><name>evan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01529734194598440296</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22824972.post-114944420122769045</id><published>2006-06-04T10:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-04T13:53:30.176-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7178/2327/1600/DSCF7540.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7178/2327/320/DSCF7540.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Written May 8th, 2006&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;"What have you been reading in Scripture lately?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;The question is wrongly asked of me. But the questioner had no knowledge of who I am, where I am at in life or how to go about reaching me. Perhaps the fatal flaw is in &lt;strong&gt;assumptions or lack of knowledge&lt;/strong&gt;...&lt;strong&gt;or lack of relationship.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Have we so developed this christian culture, one that revolves around questions and answers which require no involvement or commitment in a person's life, no love or depth of relationship? Do we really care or are we just making a check on a list, feeling good that we now "know" that the other person is "on the right track?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I want desperately to &lt;strong&gt;know&lt;/strong&gt; people. I want desperately to have &lt;strong&gt;discernment&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22824972-114944420122769045?l=cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com/feeds/114944420122769045/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22824972&amp;postID=114944420122769045' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22824972/posts/default/114944420122769045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22824972/posts/default/114944420122769045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com/2006/06/written-may-8th-2006-what-have-you.html' title=''/><author><name>evan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01529734194598440296</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22824972.post-114820223063923429</id><published>2006-05-21T01:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-21T02:30:01.473-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7178/2327/1600/DSCF2667.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7178/2327/320/DSCF2667.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;In those old days it was different.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;For then faith was a task for a whole lifetime, not a skill thought to be acquired in either days or weeks.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Even if one were able to render the whole of the content of faith into conceptual form, it would not follow that one had grasped faith, grasped how one came to it, or how it came to one.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;The more and more I walk on this road of seeking, the more and more I see how those above statements by Kierkegaard define my life of present.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;It has been 2 years now. I have not grasped faith fully since it was lost...taken...I have not grasped how I shall come to it again or how it shall come to me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I take some comfort in men like Kierkegaard, Chesterton and Lewis...who recognized and experienced faith as a task and journey for a lifetime.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22824972-114820223063923429?l=cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com/feeds/114820223063923429/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22824972&amp;postID=114820223063923429' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22824972/posts/default/114820223063923429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22824972/posts/default/114820223063923429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com/2006/05/in-those-old-days-it-was-different.html' title=''/><author><name>evan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01529734194598440296</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22824972.post-114283754263181820</id><published>2006-03-19T22:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-19T22:52:22.643-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;March 19th, 2006&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Remember, set apart, keep the sabaath. Rest. A refreshing and renewing of the mind, body and soul. Church can contribute to that. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Our view is so often narrow and not deliberate enough. Church...but rushing to church in that hurried and frantic way...that seems to be the very opposite of what the heart of it is. We should change how it is done.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I'd forgotten how right it feels to have an hour before church to sit outside at starbucks, wake up slowely, rest and gather my thoughts. If I had peace, His peace, to go along with it...it would be a purely transcendental experience.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22824972-114283754263181820?l=cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com/feeds/114283754263181820/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22824972&amp;postID=114283754263181820' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22824972/posts/default/114283754263181820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22824972/posts/default/114283754263181820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com/2006/03/march-19th-2006-remember-set-apart.html' title=''/><author><name>evan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01529734194598440296</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22824972.post-114093903306459929</id><published>2006-02-25T23:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-25T23:30:33.073-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;"...so this is what my Lord meant when he said to let my light shine before all men rather than keeping it hidden," I thought as I sipped my winter ale and read selections from my book on atheism. The night had found me sitting at the doorway of Isabella's, a local bar...if you could call it that.  The class, cozy warmth and friendliness reminded more of what I would hope to find in a church (and often don't).  I was taking tickets for people who had come to watch a couple play a beautiful mix of live folk songs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the evening went on I continued to meet and mingle with different people from the community, some whom I have already met and am continuing to get to know...and then others for the first time.  It is a blessed environment of community people...very friendly, nice and sociable people who probably do not know what it is to experience the love of Christ.  Some of them make it into Miguel's Coffee Shop as well and so my contact with the community grows through both venues.  And there are also my fellow co-workers at Olive Garden.  I must say, though, that spending tonight at Isabella's, with the music, the people, the social interaction and such provided much rest and encouragment to my soul which had been so wearied by the facades of an external christendom this last week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do I write?  A year and a half ago I gave up writing for the purpose of convincing anyone of anything.  I write because it is what I am thinking and I enjoy writing.  Nine months ago I gave up caring what christendom thinks about me...I really don't care anymore.  I think a very wise professor at Emmaus tried to teach that to us in class...he said, "the sooner you stop caring about what others think, the better."  He was right. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My only regret and fear in this is that I am not deliberate enough in my interactions with these community people.  Yes, I am building relationships.  I am ever thankful for that.  But that I would constantly be seeking to express what this love of Christ is really about...that is my hope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22824972-114093903306459929?l=cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com/feeds/114093903306459929/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22824972&amp;postID=114093903306459929' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22824972/posts/default/114093903306459929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22824972/posts/default/114093903306459929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com/2006/02/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>evan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01529734194598440296</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22824972.post-114075146031275228</id><published>2006-02-23T19:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-23T19:28:10.683-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;And so each of us has chosen our "vice" and we are both convinced that we are living in a way that is right and pleasing to God, a way that allows us to most effectively reach people.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;In the case of the appearance of evil vs. the appearance of christianity: A choice must be made, which appearance do you seek to take on? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I can choose to live within the grace and the freedoms I am allowed at the expense of being accussed of living in the appearance of evil. Who are my accusers? Not the unsaved. They do not find fault with my life, for I have unsaved friends. They are not offended, turned off, bothered or otherwise affected by these areas in my life, areas that are not sin...for the issue at hand is not sin itself, but the so-called appearance of it. Then my accuser is some of christendom. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Perhaps it would be said by my accusers that I am failing to live above reproach. Once again, in the unsaved world these areas of my life are not an issue, are not an area of living above reproach. No, it is christiandom that claims I am not living above reproach. And so they reproach...but I am found innocent. I have not sinned, I have not played with fire. And so as far as it seems, I am above reproach. Christendom, the very realm in which I should find trust I find distrust. And when they whisper and gossip about how there could be an appearanc of evil in my life, they simultaneously accuse me of not being above reproach. So let them reproach...and it will be found that I am not sinning...and thus I am above their reproachs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I can choose to live within the appearance of christianity rather than the appearance of evil. I can guard my words and actions so well. I can avoid everything on the surface that has an appearance of evil...and take a great risk at hypocrisy.  But at least I have the appearance of christianity. An appearance that hinders my ability to really get involved in some people's lives. No, I am not accusing this appearance of completely hindering it. For within the appearance of christianity many, many people can be reached. And they are people who cannot be reached if one chooses the so-called appearance of evil. And within the so-called appearance of evil many, many people can be reached. And they are people who cannot be reached if one chooses the so-called appearanc of christianity. What will your choice be? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;And so I will not condemn my brother's and sister's who live within the appearance of christianity...for most of them are truly dear people who love God. They cannot live with the sin of violating their conscious' and living within what they would call the appearance of evil. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I cannot live with the sin of violating my conscious and living within what I call the appearance of christianity. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;And so each of us has chosen our "vice" and we are both convinced that we are living in a way that is right and pleasing to God, a way that allows us to most effectively reach people. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22824972-114075146031275228?l=cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com/feeds/114075146031275228/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22824972&amp;postID=114075146031275228' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22824972/posts/default/114075146031275228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22824972/posts/default/114075146031275228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com/2006/02/and-so-each-of-us-has-chosen-our-vice.html' title=''/><author><name>evan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01529734194598440296</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22824972.post-114059782334779504</id><published>2006-02-22T00:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-22T00:43:43.356-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;February 1st, 2006&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most people are misunderstood. Most people are not fully accepted and taken as they are. I seek not a blind eye. I seek a full realization, the time, thought and effort it takes to attain such.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not asking people to be Mr. Bingly. I am aksing people to fully realize who a person is, faults, warts and ugliness...and to embrace it with open arms. People desperately long for that, they crave it, they need it. And within this save haven they can grow, change and address those areas of weakness. Why is it so hard for us to give people that safe haven? Damn it, why? What is it in our natures....sometimes it is false Christianity, sometimes not. Pride?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;February 5th, 2006&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What if we just had the big picture of what we are about...love for God, love for each other, love for the lost? Would that simplify church, our lives, 'christendom?' &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22824972-114059782334779504?l=cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com/feeds/114059782334779504/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22824972&amp;postID=114059782334779504' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22824972/posts/default/114059782334779504'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22824972/posts/default/114059782334779504'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cadentrhapsody.blogspot.com/2006/02/february-1st-2006-most-people-are.html' title=''/><author><name>evan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01529734194598440296</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
