|
Wednesday, October 15, 2008 11:21:48 AM
|
"Perfect Actions" |
The Darkest Moment
It has been said, “The darkest moment is just before the dawn.” It is imperative to believe this no matter how dark the moment may get.
I have written on my web page of entering moments of darkness with full beliefs in the fact that I do not enter these moments alone. However this is perhaps the first time that waiting for the light of dawn can make me believe the sun went out while I slept.
Just like the light in the above image, I can see reflections of a Light shining off the astronomically high dust that has blown into the darkness of the storm I pass through. I need to write this now as a point of reflection to look back on as I consider a day in the future when all is bright and I wondered if the Light would ever shine again.
Thus this entry is my reflecting point on a Light that I can only see in the dust of events that have made this juncture in life seem ever so dark. I believe that I will look back on this entry from a day where in the Sun is once again seen eye to eye.
|
|
|
|
|
English Lessons
from the days when
Meaning was Conveyed Gracefully
|
|
We trust in the living God.--I TIM. iv. 10.
|
|
Thy secret judgment's depths profound
Still sings the silent night;
The day, upon his golden round,
Thy pity infinite.
I. WILLIAMS. _Tr. from Latin_.
Now that I have no longer any sense for the transitory and perishable, the universe appears before my eyes under a transformed aspect. The dead, heavy mass which did but stop up space has vanished, and in its place there flows onward, with the rushing music of mighty waves, an eternal stream of life, and power, and action, which issues from the original source of all life,--from Thy life, O Infinite One! for all life is Thy life, and only the religious eye penetrates to the realm of true Beauty.
J. G. FICHTE. |
|
What is Nature? Art thou not the "Living Garment" of God? O Heavens, is it, in very deed, He then that ever speaks through thee; that lives and loves in thee, that lives and loves in me? Sweeter than dayspring to the shipwrecked in Nova Zembla; ah! like the mother's voice to her little child that strays bewildered, weeping, in unknown tumults; like soft streamings
of celestial music to my too exasperated heart, came that Evangel. The Universe is not dead and demoniacal, a charnel-house with spectres; but godlike, and my Father's.
T. CARLYLE. | |
|
|
|
|
© Bill Watterson
Thank You Bill Watterson; Live Forever and continue to Prosper !!!
Home
| |
