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A Seminary Student Musing Over his Own Blog

I’ve decided that I might try my hand at a different sort of post for my blog. Often what I post on here are quick snippets of studies that I have done, that are too often just bits of analytical messes. What amounts to being basically manuscripts to the various sermons that I have given at the church that I have honor of being able to preach at. Notes, although not so much lately, of the various things that I have done for Sunday school.

I have some Arthurian stuff, that attempts to be scholarly, despite myself having no scholarly training in Arthurian literature. Merely an insane love of the stuff and hidden desire to someday see how hard it would to get some sort of degree.

If you follow a few posts down you would have noticed that I recently taken down post to school work that I have done. This being for a variety of reasons, none of which I care to get into. In the earlier phrase of the blog I have some more creative bits of writings of me trying to get into the mindset of the prophets. At one time, I used to a do a bit of creative writing on this thing, long gone now because of hesitant at allowing people to read such things. (Although I did have a friend who most protested at the idea).

I used to update this thing so very often, but I think I got too full of myself and had decided that this blog should be something it’s not. After all, who really reads these things than other bloggers? (Okay so some blogs are more widely read), nonetheless certainly my blog isn’t even the most popular one that is out there.

It’s never made it into any of those top fifty blogs things that I’ve seen. Probably often overrated, but I would automatically admit that if it were suddenly the part of some top even 100 blogs I totally hype it up. Human nature and all that fun stuff.

I’d love for something like this to be more important than it is.

My top two posts happen to be about Asmodeus, although I think the title is what gets it the most hits, and one concerning the Ethiopian Meqabyan books.

Asmodeus is fun and all, but I’m honestly surprised that that particular post had gotten as many hits as it, but as mentioned that’s probably due to its title. I keep playing with the idea of doing something with Raphael in a similar manner, but I’m unsure how well that would turn out.

Those Ethiopian books have almost no scholarly information on them (I’ve not even been able to see them in Ge’ez or whatever their original language is, just to note okay they really exists), but there one set of translations from a guy who has rigorously tried to popularize the translation. (You can see his name pop up everywhere, even here, although sadly he didn’t answer any questions I had responded to).

So this is part of the state of my blog. I’ll be returning some of the older posts that I had once had. Once again I’ll have those bits of Creative writing that I once had. Deciding that I care less and less about view counts, or what people might respond to.

At some point, I’d like to earnestly place new posts up, but I might very well fail at that. School, Ministry, and other factors in my life limit me. Still I love to get more up concerning those favorite pieces of Biblical literature to me. Yet also I think I might once more add to the creative part, just for creativity’s sake, or boredom.

A return to more how it once was and who knows whether it’s for the better or the worst?


Reflecting Mirror. . .

Do you see that mirror hanging before me? It is of ancient made and can tell the soul of any one man, but once you have seen it… you can never escape it. Oh that you would not show me, my most inward being. I am tired of looking at the various scratches and cracks that you love to bring forth. Yet as I look toward you I find that I cannot pull myself away I am drawn closer and closer into this dreaded mirror hanging before me. Reflecting, reflecting… I wonder, as I stand, why are my inner thoughts brought forth into life?

It is the past I see, a task you see I too often know that I do. Yet like this mirror, I simply cannot neglect, my thoughts have gone rampant. When left alone I can almost go anywhere for what can stall me when my thoughts prefer me looking in this place I call the past. I took look at the mirror and oh how the past was highlighted and Oh the things I remembered, those that I knew I had missed, but did not, but wish that I did have to recollect. Yet here they are despite my protest, my complaints, oh yes my muttering cry. This mirror of mine always reflecting, reflecting… For God up above in fury has swore me into this, this piece of Hell.

I did not have times with friends, times of memories, times I dearly loved for in this year, oh yes this little year I found that I could but not. So here I stand, give me your hand, and let’s walk down another path. You and me down this simple path away from that mirror of mine for its always reflecting. I have tire of the days of yesteryear those I do not wish to dwell upon. Yet if I stay right here, these reflections would keep harking to me. So we walk and far past my mirror we go. At one point we come upon a lake and there once more I found my reflection staring right back at me. A thought occurred to me, Can I not escape? That simple reflection that is so strong, and I hear my heart quiver. A quick pitter-patter of fear and I secretly wish that I might find a cave. Dark and gloomy, but most of all no reflections, no reflecting…

And therein I take a swift hold of your hand. Grasping it tightly, for I know that I can trust you, but… I dare not let go. For who but knows what I should do if we were to become separate. Then with legs of most haste we run, hand in hand, and flee this path. I think Off the path must surely be better, but I know deep down inside, I am but a fool. Yet… yet here I am running with you in hand. The ancient path was nice, the well beaten one nicer, but now there is no path. I have taken you with me into the heart of this forest. I see a smile on your face, I know not why. That smile its slightly hunting, what is it you are thinking? I ask, you do not answer. Why must you make these words of mine come out? Words reflect… words hurt, they sting, I hate them! I hate these words that your smile bring forth. I don’t want to speak my inner thoughts, and yet you say slightly I cannot stay with one so quiet and still.

Do you realize what words do to me? They build but so often they break down, do I always have to be so humbled? I take each word hurled at me and I do not take them with a grain of salt. They were said for a reason, did I fail, did I really miss something? I am sorry I did not mean to, forgive me I was just Naïve, was that really so dumb of me to speak? Look at me, show interest in me, I cannot speak much, get rid of that smile. Would you instead would you give me a chance to be strong? You start to back away and pulling your hand out of mine shouting Speak!

I cannot and you know it, but you still have that smile. Words come naturally to you, they’re slow to me. I stutter I really do, nervousness or tiredness, my tongue starts to cling. Reflecting, reflecting my inabilities that so often surround me. I cannot speak tis true, nor, nor can I say these words to you. My inner thoughts remain inner in this forest of memories and reflections. You start to go, and I know, tears rolling down, I know that you did not love me. I did not mean my love to be any sort of love, nay I meant it… I meant it to be strong, everlasting. Do I really know what love is, most likely not, but here’s my hand. I keep it outstretched, for I am in love with you. I see you fading and my most fear event didst just happen and all I can do is remain, hand out.

You pierced my heart all because I did not speak and I know that the fault was my own. You loved me, but you truly did not love me. Or instead, could it be said that I have all of this backwards. I loved you, but my lack of response showed that I truly did not. But it is never that simple and I have grown up far too fast. So I begin to walk back and yes, you know, wherever you did go, that I head back toward my mirror. I lost the one I loved, so why should I run from the one I hate? So here I go, plunging myself in, I am ready for whatever befalls me, I will accept this gloom… Why not? For in my heart, my precious heart I am alone. I am reflecting, reflecting, reflecting… My being is all but dried up, it is a desert, but all I wanted was just was stream.

I stand before a mirror, it is of ancient made and can tell the soul of any one man, but once you have seen it… you can never escape it. Those that I thought I had loved, I have abandoned, my journey I have closed its chapter. Come mirror show me your fury. Surely it cannot be liken to a woman’s scorn, surely Hell hath a better fury. I see the past within you and I see my faults within you, and I feel my tears running down. My tears of embarrassment, those awkward moments I seem to invite in… I see my tears of ignorance when I have spoken so often when it would have been better if I had stayed my tongue. Tears that mingle with memories of times I thought I truly was right, but everyone around me… they were against me. Oh or the tears when I speak words I thought were good… but instead I hear laughter or see faces that betrayed my feelings.

Why should I speak oh my evil mirror? Why should I remember these awkward moments in my life? A wave misplace, a greeting meant for another? Rewards for another, so often never for a loner. Mirror why must your reflections sting my being? Can I never be right, can I not avoid the situations I bring myself in. Do I lack wisdom and sense? Who have I failed to the point of no return? I see a stone at my feet and an evil thought did just creep… I smile, oh how I smile and I pick that stone up. Mirror, Mirror whose the fairest in the land? It begins to shadow and in that moment my arm springs forth. Shatter, shatter, glass all over me, cutting me here, and also there, blood oozing.

I begin to shout to let my words out. I don’t care what those around me may think, I will speak when I can and let my lips be sealed otherwise. I cannot change as you would have me, and I… I will no longer try. The shattering mirror pierces me deep, but your lack of love pierced all the deeper. To Hell with you and your dreams, may they burn there in all of eternity. I am standing here, and I know that I care not of you anymore. I open my hand, my palm open and I stretch it out into the flowing glass… Come take my hand if you really love me, take it now… I will love you back as much as one can, I promise you but that. For I know that when shattering glass is done I will know who is the fairest in the land. For they will be standing there, where my evil mirror was, for me.

So here’s my hand being torn to shreds, I have spoken and I have reflected I’m all done now…

– Le Bel Inconnu

Dame Folly

I did it again, I let my tongue loose and I made a fool of myself. I let go of every thought in my head and instead of being collected I let my passions drive my words. I screwed up O Adonai why did I let myself screw up like so? It started out so innocently, I knew my thoughts, I spoke, perhaps with a little passion, but I spoke full well knowing what I was saying. Then words were returned and I repeated, things changed heated up, I stopped thinking, my mouth running without any concern for what I should be thinking. O Adonai I screwed up at that moment.

I seek my Lady Wisdom oh so often and yet at that moment I took another accursed detour, I stopped looking toward her. I saw the alluring Dame Folly, her presence, oh how it changed my whole circumstances. Lady Wisdom seemed so far off, her figure a mere glimpse in the shadows. I have been walking so long to reach her home. I was tired of it for a moment, and there along the road was Dame Folly. She had the air of my lady, she had the looks, oh my did she have the looks. One glance and I was stunned by how much her beauty charmed me. I looked at her and my heart pounded, pounded the same way it does for my Wisdom. I screwed up there, and I took an action I should not have. But oh how her call grasped me.

I stopped worrying about Wisdom’s call, I could barely hear it and I headed down the road with my Dame Folly, arm in arm even. Who knows how long we could have gone, would I have gone as far as to enter that couch of her? But by the gods something changed my mind and I stopped in my tracks, I forced myself away from that creature. She looked at me with hate, and her glare had a strong power to it. It took effort but I forced myself to separate from her. I could my lady’s call and I wanted to meet her in that home of hers. But… I had left her, I had chosen to run away.

Adonai please let her call still be there. As I travel back along the route that I went the bright sky had turned dark and I heard no call. If I could not hear her voice how could I seek my lady wisdom? Or had she only withdrawn to a spot to mock me for leaving her. But I am starting to hear that voice of hers once more… What a lovely voice it is. I screwed up, O my Adonai how I screwed up, but can I… please forgive me Adonai. Surely if you forgive me, my lady will also be able to forgive me. I dare not continue along this return until I can clear it up.

So with that said I begin to walk once more, I will not let myself become another victim of Dame Folly. Although lingering thoughts of her still exist, she was so different from what I had expected of her. As I return back to the crossroad, I can hear Wisdom’s sweet call once more, oh can I see her more clearly now? I had failed her, but perhaps I can more fully understand my need for her now. Not that I should have failed. No… I regret that mistake, but I cannot keep thinking about it, what has happened has happened. I look toward my new understanding knowing how I failed. My actions were my own but I refuse (as much as I can) to let those vile actions define me.

I want to follow you Adonai and I want my Lady Wisdom’s embrace. I messed up, but let this forgiveness come to me. I have failed and I am sorry. Let me think of your glory Adonai, Yahweh let me focus now on praising you instead of my past failures that cannot help me. So I begin my journey toward my Lady, my eternal quest it seems. Singing a slight tune of praise as I do, my happy travelers tune. I am closer now I think, and I hope that I can continue on this path that’s been given to me.

– Le Bel Inconnu