Challenges in Christianity

I've proven God exists, to myself that is. A series of questions and logical conclusions have led me to this belief. It is now so engraved in my mind that, questioning the existence of God is no longer a philosophical exercise; it has become fact.

There are a few other theologies which I have accepted as fact, neither of which I care to divulge at the moment. These principles all have stemmed from the Christian theology, using the Bible as the authority. But there exist concepts which I admit to having a limited understanding of; mostly all related to the human existence.

Romantic Love. What is it? Where is its place for the Christian? (For: Examples throughout the Bible. Against: 1 Cor 7, Matt 19:1-9)

Living a Holy (Obedient) Life: Why has God commanded us not to do the very things that He knows we would do? The frustration of failing, over and over again. "Go and sin no more" John 8:1-11. Impossible. So why even make the command? Now I write this reminding myself the Saviour died because of this very predicament. But was the command made solely to judge the guilty only to show the power of redemption? What then of the Forgiven, why/how should he be expected to live without sin? (For: Rom 6-8, and others. Against: The human experience).

I am undisciplined, and my laziness prevents me from writing further.

Lessons from a Pup

My professor spoke of humans having a hierarchy of chakras. How musicians (and artists) tend to reach for the easiest chakra; the lowest. Taking him at his word, the lowest level begins with the impulsive chakra. Sex, anger etc. It's why art forms tend to easily debase themselves over these topics. The highest form is love.

A friends dog died recently. A living creature has ceased it's breathing, it's body no longer gives off warmth and only noticed to those close by, the daily routines; fetching food, going for a walk and even the gentle pet after coming home from a long day have all been removed.

Now my friend is rather shaken up by the whole ordeal. Handling it in such ways as men often do. A day or two alone mourning over a six pack, perhaps a smoke while recalling a number of the cherished memories. He loved his dog.

I scrolled through a few photographs of the now deceased hound. A pet I have even handled on more than one occasion. I mulled over a few photos. Even felt my heart soften at such pictures as the dog snuggled asleep into a child arms. Or the silly photo when the playful pup rustled through the trash; which brought to mind an un-captured memory where he popped up with a canister of ice cream covering his snout. Cherished moments for my friend I am sure, and I even felt the love myself. Amazing what a photo can bring to mind.

Suddenly, without any reason or justification, while gazing through the photos I thought of something vulgar. Recalling a line from a movie I had seen sometime ago - completely unrelated - "I am Jacks ...". It was such a devilish thing to think. And in the spirit of what I'd call, clever whit, I thought to write the caption. Clever but shocking; is what would be said.

I did not write the post. I held my tongue this time.

Mind: Debased, it reaches to the lowest depths.

Voice: The higher chakra; will now become my aim.

*I don't believe in chakra; I'd call 'it' something else. Perhaps the Christian calls it sin and virtue.

Rubbish

Feelings come and go but the consequence of actions caused by fleeting emotions can leave a lasting (if not permanent) imprint.

I was not meant to be lazy, but I am. And what I am, I do not like. But it's not me I should not like, for I was not meant to be lazy.

I think. Therefore I write.

Feelings for an old flame come and go. Not to act on them is my sure hope.

My problem may no longer be with God. But rather with myself; for not wanting to do what God commands has put me in this state. And though unhappy as I may be, it's not with God I could be angry. But only with myself. I think thats why I started smoking.

This world is crazy; and I'm unhealthy.

Stained

Hate. It boils with passion and rage,
without reason. A Cold Heart you'll see
with no shame, to stabbing engage.
Soon this black man will bleed.
His blood will be red, just like his killer.
And Cold Hearted people, just don't remember
what it's like to smile and giggle,
swim in the summer, open gifts in December.
Hate. No need to continue this trend.
Let this stain not be covered, open to see
perhaps then, the wounding can mend.

My enemy, my neighbor
some strangers, all friend,
"Remember God in Heav'n
who made us all bleed red."
David Jensen 2010

Quick Quotes

If people were bold enough to state their real intentions:

"Wanted: Warm body. Arms and legs preferred."

Signed - More than just lonely.

"Lucky I'm in love with my best friend" Mranz.

The power of music strikes the soul. Motivates. Moves. Feels. There is something about the ability of poetic beats (music) to excite and rejuvenate the body. The mind.

Attraction seems much the same. Attraction. Motivates. Moves. Feels. Unexplainable. Uncontrollable. ... Destructive.

Best friends? And lovers? A rare combination.

The Rain

On a rainy day the malls are packed. They storm the dry sheltered safe haven seeking more than just a respite from the cold and wet, they crave their consumer spend hungry addictions. It's an amazing sight to see. On a day when Nature has declared, "Stay home", like zombies, bodies in motion dedicated to their goal; throwing on some shoes, a pair of sweats and sweat shirts. They venture to their 'duty'. What could be a great day to read, to phone a loved one far away becomes a day like any other; spend, spend, a starbucks and a return, spend, spend again.

We sit and sip a beer. Exchange the same old stories we've all heard; Lou's wife with cancer; in and out for years. Bob's wife cheated on him years ago; they reconciled, now he's miserable. And Ted, a sort of mystery though his story will soon be unveiled. And so we sit, listening to the rain. I don't suppose we're any different, we just go to Tavern and drink our day away. Protected from the rain.