Sometimes I wonder which way things are going.  Occasionally I think I need to just stop and reassess.  There are places where you can stand and in every direction you see the same thing.  Some picture of nature, some scene.  It is all the same.  Spin a bit, lose sense of which way is which, and then, when senses are regained, where are you?  Which way do you go?  I would think you would be free.  Unrestrained. 

Jet Black: When you and I first met, you told me something. You said that you had died once, that you had seen death. Why can’t you just let it go? Forget the past.
Spike Spiegel: There was a woman, first time I’d found someone who was truly alive. At least, that’s what I thought. She was… the part of me I’d lost somewhere along the way, the part that was missing, that I’d been longing for.

In church we read from 2 Kings 6.  And we came to this:     And the king asked her, “What is your trouble?” She answered, “This woman said to me, ‘Give your son, that we may eat him today, and we will eat my son tomorrow.’ So we boiled my son and ate him. And on the next day I said to her, ‘Give your son, that we may eat him.’ But she has hidden her son.”
(2 Kings 6:28-29 ESV)

Holy crap.  That was my reaction in church.  Then Ben mentioned this from Leviticus 26:     “But if in spite of this you will not listen to me, but walk contrary to me, then I will walk contrary to you in fury, and I myself will discipline you sevenfold for your sins. You shall eat the flesh of your sons, and you shall eat the flesh of your daughters.
(Leviticus 26:27-29 ESV)

Whoa.  Okay, so the thing that struck me here is that God’s anger towards sin is very real.  And it ought to terrify us.  Way more than it does.

There is something odd about silence.  To be honest, I think I am afraid of it these days.  I tend to want something, anything, to be going on.  I listen to music (or talk radio) all day at work.  Whether I am driving or doing paperwork.  I turn music on in the shower.  I have the TV on in the background of whatever else I am doing.  I sleep with a fan next to my head every night.  The silence makes me decidedly uncomfortable. 

I think this has to do with my tendencies inside of my own head.  I over-think things.  My mind likes to go to the worst places.  And I get so distracted. 

But I know that there is something powerful in silence.  This is one of the appeals of meditation to me.  To be able to train myself to clear my mind of all thoughts.  I feel like if I were able to do that, to clear the canvas, then my prayer and meditations would go better, would be more concentrated.  I am losing control of my mind and I would like it back. 

I am looking into finding some place to retreat to.  To stay in silence.  I do not speak often.  I prefer to be silent, just surrounded by noise. 

I’m not really sure there is anything to this.  Or if I am just rambling on.  Goodnight.