God sent forth His Son, born of a woman, born under the law, to redeem those who were under the law, that we might receive the adoption as sons. And because you are sons, God has sent forth the Spirit of His Son into your hearts, crying out, "Abba, Father!" [gal 4:4-6]

so i did it. i layed my pillow on the floor and sprawled out in God's presence and listened. He was faithful to speak. so often that is the problem- we never answer the phone when He calls, instead we hit the ignore button and get pissed b/c He doesnt leave a voicemail. hold a grudge instead of calling Him back. Lord i am scared to tell you that i will do whatever it takes b/c i know that you would just rather me do it then to make another promise word covenant. so give me grace to take it one day at a time and press on.

dear paul,
im sitting here and staring at the wall trying not to think of the only thing that keeps coming to mind. misery. i feel trapped within my freedom left only walking aroundin familiar circles. im watching ,not trying but wanting to be someone that im not. i feel like im God's princess longing to explore beyond the confines of my palace seeking comfort and not this corsette. maybe i dont like beds with canapy's. maybe i dont want a life of luxory. what is it like to have nothing? or to not get of what ive asked? ive never known the common life, of working for a living and having to deny a desire only to get what i absolutely need. what is that? i dont think i would ever have to buy anything again. maybe if i dont want anymore then ill never be envious. maybe if i dont desire anymore then i will never be lacking. when will satisfaction come? is contentment around the corner? is the airvent open?
from lauren

dearest lauren,
before you gentiles knew God you were slaves to so called gods that do not even exist. and now that you have found God (or should is say, now that God has found you), why do you want to go back again and become slaves once more to the weak and useless spiritual powers of this world? you are trying to find favor with God by what you do or dont do on certain days or months or seasons or years. i fear for you. i am afraid all my hard work for you was worth nothing. dear brothers and sisters i plead with you to live as i do in freedom from these things [gal 4:8-12]
you were getting along so well. who has interfered with you to hold you back from following the truth? it certainly isnt God, for he is the one who called you to freedom [gal 5:7-8]
dont get tired of doing what is good. dont get discouraged and give up, for we reap a harvest of blessing at the appropriate time [gal 6:9]
from paul

got a xanga
http://www.xanga.com/doveeyes
am i trader? not yet

A Prayer of Barrenness

My heart aches. I love Him, yes, but faintly.
I desire Him, yes, but weakly.
I want Him, true, but waveringly.
Even the pain that lies within
I recognize to be such faint pain,
A mere discomfort next to the heart-wrenching anguish
That grips true lovers
My knowledge is nothing. My wisdom, infancy.
I see nothing as it truly is.
Eternity what is light. This life of earth what is dark.
Stories remain stories. Not sinking deep within my soul,
And scarring me with Divine invasion
Your cross is a picture, Your Heaven a fantasy.
Tears are sweet emotions, moved by Your sacrifice.
But not the tears of sharing in Your sufferings.
I say Your name so sweetly but do not know its Face.
All I am is far. So distant, so removed.
But You beckon me come.
Yet, my Lord, I am nothing. I have nothing. I know nothing.
When I thought I had something,
It dissolved before Your beauty,
And I was left naked. Possessing nothing.
Poor for words. Empty of all. Needy and alone.
Even so, my Love, call me.
Yes, do not leave me here but beckon me come.
Though I have nothing, though I am only poor,
I cast myself on your unfailing love
Where else would I go?
Whom have I but You?

By Dana Candler

collaborative stranger
by lauren d'auria, rachel, Mew, and Anonymous

'like strangers that know each other really well'
'connected by something that can't be explained'
'not quite friends but not quite strangers'
the awkwardness of newness embodied in the moment
looking back on the comfort of the well known
contemplating dancing around it-
the all familiar notorious phrase
repeating the words 'hi, how are you?' in different ways.
but there is a distinctive difference floating.
the fixed gaze of the other seems inundatingly natural.
were the memories made forgotten?
or is it simply a reminding coincidence?
'this week i met somebody well.. kind of new.
spent two days and no longer 'strangers."
like at first site. like its always been
i feel as if ive known you without beginning

"hello"
by lauren d'auria

hello miscommunication i'm back
but its ok just dont peer pressure me
meaningless words are fake
might as well be a lip sink
not fulfilling the void of their sound
not completing what was meant to be heard
long times of blank black outs
streaks of all, streaks of nothing
satisfied by soundless associated affection
together lacking a phrase also lacking awkwardness
no stressful burdens no untalented shows by amatuer acting
no implementing a personable first impression
now that sounds good to me
there there nothing at all
and i remembered what i read
that a Greek philosopher said:
" the lonely man is the strongest man."

[i watched the sunset above the city on the top of a parking garage in the fan]
by lauren d'auria

...the light that is turned on by the morning each day is turned off and replaced by a natural bulbed night light. the rise and set are so beautiful yet decoratively subtle they are a not but special miricle. the free showing comes twice a day unseen by the neglectful audience of self included. there is no stage curtain covered in eyes waiting to be pulled. only two twelve hour scenes accented by its frame of surrounding clouds and as far as you can see, underlined by the horizon. the sun is so bright that when it retreats it leaves a few minute trail on one side of the earth on its way to visit the other. there's the moon, thumbnail, cut, only a slice tonight. the sun will return again shortly preceding the newspaper and coffee...

things our generation doesnt know how to do:

1. use a phone book
2. use a map
3. memorize phone numbers
4. do math with out a calculator
5. (you add one)

a convicting question that my friend asked me:

what would the world be like if everyone prayed as much as you do?

'and still His speech slumbers within our breast like a love-song half forgotten, and sometimes it burns itself through to our memory'
'now a man who loves with his heart yet holds a doubt in his mind, is but a slave in a gallery who sleeps at his oar and dreams of freedom, till the lash of the master wakes him'
'doubt is a pain too lonely to know that faith is his twin brother.'
'when He smiled His smile was as the hunger of those who long after the unknown. it was like the dust of stars falling upon the eyelids of children. and it was like a morsel of bread in the throat.'
'He saw for our eyes and heard for our ears, and our silent words were upon His lips; and His fingers touched what we could not feel.'
"oftentimes i have seen Him bend down to touch the blades of grass. And in my heart i have heard Him say: 'little green things, you shall be with me in my kingdom'"
'he loved all things of loveliness, the shy faces of children.'
'aye, He was a poet whose heart dwelt in a bower beyond the heights, and His songs though sung for our ears, were sung for other ears also, and to men in another land where life is forever young and time is always dawn.'
'and since i have known that my lyre has but one string, and that my voice weaves neither the memories of yesturday nor the hopes of tomorrow, I have put aside my lyre and i shall keep silence. but always at twilight i shall hearken, and i shall listen to the poet who is the sovreign of all poets.'
'on the day of reckoning these women shall rise before the throne of the Father, and they shall be made pure by their own tears. but you shall be held down by the chains of your own judgement. babylon was not put to waste by her prostitutes; Babylon fell to ashes that the eyes of her hypocrites might no longer see the light of day'
'all that was timeless before Him became timeful in Him.'
'we whose senses have been dulled, we gaze in full daylight and yet we do not see. we would cup our ears, but we do not hear; and stretch forth our hands, but we do not touch. and though all the incense of arabia, we go our own way and do not smell.'
'to Him the root of a buttercup was a longing towards God, while to us it is naught but a root.'

-kahlil gibran (Jesus: the son of man)