the...um...'soulbrain'...has atrophied

In my dash out of Dallas I have realized the my soulbrain has been neglected.

What the (insert your choice word here______)* is a soulbrain? don't know but i think i just made it up...(mental note, September 15th: I did something significant by adding a word to the world's vocabulary)

Well, I haven't been in "conversation" about things of heaven, hell, and various stops in between. Of course not all of life falls into these categories...stay with me here.

But, if you think about what you think is below (our minds revert to the idea that hell is below because our cartoons tell us so at age nipple), or above (again, age nipple allows us to build a belief that it is in the sky)...then in between those places is all of life, IE: earth and everything taking place on it.

I read one of the college students' blog today. He has always been a thinker and is super creative. Reading some of his posts were so thought provoking. I believe I have been in 'move and adjust' mode I have shelved the soulbrain.

Reading challenges me. Conversing about what I have been reading in these deep thought provoking books makes me feel alive.

If my God is who I say he is, then there is a lifetime of discovering Him that would take millenia...and even then would I only scratch the surface of his finger-nail, albeit that would be pretty fulfilling...not all fulfilling. I mean think of it this way: ever have something that taste so good your body had to actually pull you away from that taste to vomit to make room for more? Hm. Not sure if that analogy works...but it does.

Taste and see. Look it up. I dare you.

You want an image to describe what I am really getting at?

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This is the ship of pearl, which, poets feign,
Sail the unshadowed main,--
The venturous bark that flings
On the sweet summer wind its purpled wings
In gulfs enchanted, where the Siren sings,
And coral reefs lie bare,
Where the cold sea-maids rise to sun their streaming hair.

Its webs of living gauze no more unfurl;
Wrecked is the ship of pearl!
And every chambered cell,
Where its dim dreaming life was wont to dwell,
As the frail tenant shaped his growing shell,
Before thee lies revealed,--
Its irised ceiling rent, its sunless crypt unsealed!

Year after year beheld the silent toil
That spread his lustrous coil;
Still, as the spiral grew,
He left the past year's dwelling for the new,
Stole with soft step its shining archway through,
Built up its idle door,
Stretched in his last-found home, and knew the old no more.

Thanks for the heavenly message brought by thee,
Child of the wandering sea,
Cast from her lap, forlorn!
From thy dead lips a clearer note is born
Than ever Triton blew from wreathed horn;
While on mine ear it rings,
Through the deep caves of thought I hear a voice that sings:--

Build thee more stately mansions, O my soul,
As the swift seasons roll!
Leave thy low-vaulted past!
Let each new temple, nobler than the last,
Shut thee from heaven with a dome more vast,
Till thou at length art free,
Leaving thine outgrown shell by life's unresting sea!

By Oliver Wendall Holmes (1809-94). (...stolen from blupete.com)

















Life is full of these little rooms that we 'live' in for a time. We transcend the walls throughout our lives...moving in and out of life stages of growth and change...some people call these chapters in their book of life...puke!

Instead why don't we just think of these challenges as God taking us through our life?...a life that if we let him lead us by grasping at His strong hand, will author a story unlike any you could ever dream of? Why are we so bent on wandering away from our Father to build a story of our own...I guess the bottom line is that we really,...when it comes down to it,... think that God is an absolute Ass and has no idea what the hell He is doing. Or do you really think, and do I really think it is all just happenstance...you, know, "Life Sucks Then You Die So I Better Make Something Of It?"

I am in a new room. You may say my new room is in Hong Kong across the world from where you are likely sitting...hopefully you are sipping a good cup of coffee. But I am choosing to say that there are a lot of ways I am in a new room, not just where I am...but,...where I AM.

So, I say these words to you o' dear reader of my fodder...Jesus Christ is not who you think he is.

HE is so much much than you know Him to be. I dare you...to taste. Perhaps you should, as the Nautilus does, build a new room at His design ...a new dining room perhaps?