God is many things – eternal, omnipotent, omniscient, ubiquitous. Most of these adjectives are but dimly understood by us, because we have no frame of reference, no basis for comparison, and no one or nothing similar in our sphere of understanding.
But most of all, God is love. I believe one of the reasons God came to Earth, His Son reincarnated as man, was to demonstrate that love in such a tangible way that an active resistance to His appeal was required to reject Him and His message.
Read the second article in this series by Ken Curtis here.
Created by A. Conan Doyle, British/Scottish physician and writer, the fictional character Sherlock Homes delighted readers of his day. Along with the less well known character John Evelyn Thorndyke, created by R. Austen Freeman, Holmes was ahead of his time when it came to CSI (Crime Scene Investigation). Two of the founding fathers of CSI, Edmond Locard (French), and Hans Gross (Austrian) acknowledged their debt to Holmes and Thorndyke during their illustrious careers.
I fled Him, down the nights and down the days;
I fled Him, down the arches of the years;
I fled Him, down the labyrinthine ways
Of my own mind; and in the midst of tears
I hid from Him...
- Francis Thompson, The Hound of Heaven
One of the difficulties of life is it can only be properly understood in retrospect, but it must be lived in prospect.”
In my corner of the Northern Hemisphere the days are lengthening. Forsythia and fruit trees around this high desert city have suddenly burst into bloom. Elm trees are temporarily, inordinately neon green, ripe with seeds about to be loosened and flung wide in a warm gust of wind. And it’s raining, raining….
If there was one word to sum up my experience at the One Project, it would be “uncomfortable”. Not the kind of uncomfortable where you pack up and leave because you don’t enjoy it. The kind of uncomfortable where you know that this is good for you and, though your inner little kid doesn’t like it and is squirming, your inner adult tells you to stay.
A tree, like man, is born to toil,
As leafage falls, lies for a time
In dormancy, then makes the climb
To start a life, through crust of soil.
If nature's kind (at least is fair),
The sapling usually will thrive;
Takes what it needs to stay alive
From earth and water, sun and air.
Through countless seasons, start to end,
The searing heat and bitter cold,
The wind and blight that make it old,
And topple many a fellow friend;