August 27th, 2014

God calls the loving soul to dwell with himself in the cloud

It is 2:22 PM Wednesday afternoon on a warm sunny cloudy day. We still have our central air system on because it is still too humid to turn it off. When our house is closed up it smells like old carpet and dog. But it is home so be thankful it does not smell worse. I wonder what heaven smells like? I often wonder how I smell. I am always smelling stuff around me. I like smells.

I left for the library book nook around 9:40 AM and got home around 1:25 PM. On the way home from the library book nook I stopped at a local thrift shop to look at their used books. I did not find any used books to bring home today. I did bring home one used book from the library book nook titled, "Trapeze" a novel by Simon Mawer. I have in our library Mawer's novel, "The Glass Room".

While at the book nook when not help people I read, "Flaubert's Parrot" a novel by Julian Barnes.

This morning I read "On Contemplation" by Guigo De Ponte. Carol is sleeping because she worked last night. She works tonight and then she is off for two weeks.

Well I suppose I will close since I feel sleepy. Existence keeps speeding by!
  • Current Music
    Bombay Bicycle Club "So Long See You Tomorrow"

the human understanding is flooded with light of the Holy Spirit

It is now in the flow of my short unknown existence 4:29 PM Wednesday late afternoon or early evening. I am down in the lower level drinking coffee and reading a treatise titled, "On Contemplation" by Guigo De Ponte. It is getting that time of day when I close down and go into the darkness.

I wanted to quote something in "On Contemplation" that blessed me this morning and has been on my mind all day. What we need more than anything today is practical biblical Christianity and not watered down New Age spirituality or some kind of cosmic Jesus.

"Once she has discovered a drop of honeyed dew, the loving spirit can no longer appear before God empty-handed, so she brings him rich sacrifices of pure and robust prayer, coated with the oil of the Holy Spirit and set on fire with darts of glowing charity. She feeds as if she not merely touches but actually directly wounds her Lord's heart. Called by his voice, she clearly catches sight of his presence as she looks up at him while clinging yearningly to him. That is what it means to see God. Hence Bernard says: "To cling to God is nothing other than to see God, which is granted, with special joy, only to pure hearts.

When the soul has been in this state and the richness of devotion poured out on her has lasted for a while, then the memory of sweet felicity produces wisdom. For whatever enters the memory, whether it be God's blessings, the happy heavenly homeland, a longing for virtues, a captivated spirit, or even evils formerly committed, she reflects on digests in her own way each of these things wisely, that is, with relish, transforming them into the fragrance of God's sweetness.

Understanding [intellectus] truly brings about contemplation in the process of enjoying and seeing, as the human understanding is flooded with light of the Holy Spirit, and the Holy Spirit's fire lights up, loosens up, and penetrates the cloud or fog we all endure because of our sins. Then, firmly focusing his yearning on the Creator he has found in this way, the understanding's acuteness rests sweetly and gently in the Creator. He enjoys his treasure, that is, his God, in reality, not through faith or hope alone, but somehow through a sure line of vision, that is, a sure grasp. Indeed, if he does not reject God, God comes down to greet the understanding in a way scarcely imaginable, kissing him in humblest grandeur with an utterly hidden, inexpressible, and sublime kiss.

These three-will, memory, and understanding-are one and the same in the soul and work simultaneously. Yet they can be distinguished so that when the soul senses herself to be affected toward God she can discern between her own faculties and what she has in union with God, so that she might somehow worthily receive and host her guest, her Creator." pg. 184,185 Guigo De Ponte

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  • Current Mood
    contemplative contemplative

a tireless dissector of cadavers

It is 8:33 PM Wednesday night in the flow of my blood stream. There is life in the blood therefore we are not to drink blood like vampires.

I am alone once again with my books and music. Carol works tonight and then is off till next month. My wife needs a vacation once in awhile. I have never been into going on vacations. When we were raising our three children we went on vacations. Carol and I believed in giving our kids childhood memories of family vacations.

I do not remember going on vacations when I was growing up. I often think of writing a memoir of my childhood where I would write about all the things I do not remember. For example I do not remember my mother kissing me or reading to me story books. I do not remember being hugged or told "I love you". I tell our children when I talk to them over the phone "I love you". I love our three children and the people they have married. Parents should tell their children "I love you".

This evening when not watching birds or wandering the house I have been reading a book I received today in the mail titled, "Flaubert: A Biography" by Frederick Brown.

This evening our middle child Josiah called because he needed his mother's social security number.

Our daughter Beth and granddaughter Louisa skyped this evening before my wife rushed off to work.

Next month September 2014 our first born son Caleb Jon and his wife are expecting their first child. Having children is a mystical experience.

So here I sit drifting in Africa and listening to the music of Mogwai. I should close and go read some more on the life of Gustave Flaubert. Tomorrow will soon be at my throat demanding something.

wildflower
  • Current Music
    Mogwai "Come On Die Young"