Band of Brothers

This show is amazing

Loch Lomond

By yon bonnie banks and by yon bonnie braes,
Where the sun shines bright on Loch Lomond
Where me and my true love were ever wont to gae,
On the bonnie, bonnie banks o’ Loch Lomond.

O ye’ll tak’ the high road and I’ll tak’ the low road,
And I’ll be in Scotland afore ye.
But me and my true love will never meet again,
On the bonnie, bonnie banks o’ Loch Lomond.

‘Twas there that we parted in yon shady glen,
On the steep, steep side o’ Ben Lomond.
Where in deep purple hue, the hieland hills we view,
And the moon comin’ out in the gloamin’.

The wee birdies sing and the wild flowers spring,
And in sunshine the waters are sleeping:
But the broken heart, it kens nae second spring again,
Tho’ the waefu’ may cease from their greeting.

Crispin's Day

I know i put this up already, but Pommer's gotten me all fired up for Shakespeare lately

What's he that wishes so?
My cousin Westmorland. No, my fair cousin:
If we are marked to die, we are enow
To do our country loss; and if to live,
The fewer men, the greater share of honour.
God's will, I pray thee, wish not one man more.
By Jove, I am not covetous for gold,
Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost;
It ernes me not if men my garments wear;
Such outward things dwell not in my desires:
But if it be a sin to covet honour,
I am the most offending soul alive.
No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from England:
God's peace, I would not lose so great an honour
As one man more, methinks, would share from me
For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more.
Rather proclaim it presently through my host,
That he which hath no stomach to this fight,
Let him depart. His passport shall be made
And crowns for convoy put into his purse:
We would not die in that man's company
That fears his fellowship to die with us.
This day is called the Feast of Crispian:
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a-tiptoe when the day is named,
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
He that shall see this day and live t'old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
And say "To-morrow is Saint Crispian":
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars
And say "These wounds I had on Crispin's day."
Old men forget: yet all shall be forgot,
But he'll remember with advantages
What feats he did that day. Then shall our names,
Familiar in his mouth as household words
Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester,
Be in their flowing cups freshly remembered.
This story shall the good man teach his son;
And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remember'd;
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he today that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition:
And gentlemen in England now abed
Shall think themselves accursed they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.

Benedict

That a woman conceived me, I thank her; that she brought me up, I likewise give her most humble thanks: but that I will have a recheat winded in my forehead, or hang my bugle in an invisible baldrick, all women shall pardon me. Because I will not do them the wrong to mistrust any, I will do myself the right to trust none; and the fine is, for the which I may go the finer, I will live a bachelor.

Termble

Shaking like a leaf
Afraid to life my eyes
Afraid of all your glory
Ashamed of all my pride
Then you call me in
To your holy place

I fall down
Down on my face
And I beckon you for mercy
And I beckon you to forgive everything that I've ever done
And I tremble
And I tremble

I am just a man
Showered in your grace
You're the holy God
Your glory fills this place
And I beckon you for mercy
And I beckon you to forgive everything I've ever done
And I tremble
I tremble

Proving the Trinity

Today in my World Religions class my teacher was trying to describe the trinity to my class. It was extremely funny sitting back and watching people trying to comprehend what she was talking about. They asked question after question but couldn't figure it out. They were trying to use logic in order to figure out the trinity, however it can't be done. Our human minds cannot even begin to comprehend what the trinity is. This is where "Faith" comes in, you can't prove or disprove it, you just put your complete trust and confidence in it. Personally i find it more exciting when i don't know all the answers to life's questions.

Of Demons

When the word demon comes to mind we automatically think of red, scaly creatures with horns, wings, and pitchforks. Google "demons" and you will get just that. Funny that nowhere in the Bible does it describe demons physically. So how did we get this perverse idea of what demons look like and why do we continue to view them as such? part of it is probably the demons getting you to think that's what they looked like if they exist at all. Think about it, a demon's goal is to deceive you and make what is evil look good. If demons really did look like that and would appear to people, people would be afraid and most likely turn the other way.

The Following is taken from the preface of THE SCREWTAPE LETTERS by C.S. Lewis

I HAVE no intention of explaining how the correspondence which I now offer to the public fell into my hands.

"There are two equal and opposite errors into which our race can fall about the devils. One is to disbelieve in their existence. The other is to believe, and to feel an excessive and unhealthy interest in them. They themselves are equally pleased by both errors and hail a materialist or a magician with the same delight. The sort of script which is used in this book can be very easily obtained by anyone who has once learned the knack; but disposed or excitable people who might make a bad use of it shall not learn it from me.

Readers are advised to remember that the devil is a liar. Not everything that Screwtape says should be assumed to be true even from his own angle. I have made no attempt to identify any of the human beings mentioned in the letters; but I think it very unlikely that the portraits, say, of Fr. Spike or the patient's mother, are wholly just. There is wishful thinking in Hell as well as on Earth."

5 Types of Christians

I thought this survey was interesting, it was taken from leadership magazine


Active Christians 19%

* Believe salvation comes through Jesus Christ
* Committed churchgoers
* Bible readers
* Accept leadership positions
* Invest in personal faith development through the church
* Feel obligated to share faith; 79% do so.

Professing Christians 20%

* Believe salvation comes through Jesus Christ
* Focus on personal relationship with God and Jesus
* Similar beliefs to Active Christians, different actions
* Less involved in church, both attending and serving
* Less commitment to Bible reading or sharing faith

Liturgical Christians 16%

* Predominantly Catholic and Lutheran
* Regular churchgoers
* High level of spiritual activity, mostly expressed by serving in church and/or community
* Recognize authority of the church

Private Christians 24%

* Largest and youngest segment
* Believe in God and doing good things
* Own a Bible, but don't read it
* Spiritual interest, but not within church context
* Only about a third attend church at all
* Almost none are church leaders

Cultural Christians 21%

* Little outward religious behavior or attitudes
* God aware, but little personal involvement with God
* Do not view Jesus as essential to salvation
* Affirm many ways to God
* Favor universality theology

What kind are you?

Prince Caspian - May 16

...sucked

The Definition of Me is You

It is Your love that defines me
and Your love that reminds me
It's not what i do
This life i live You have given
and in You i am hidden
This is what i know is true
the definition of me is You

Colossians 3:3
For you have died,
and your life is hidden
with Christ in God.

Acts 17:28
In him we live and move and have our being'
as even some of your own poets have said,
'For we are indeed his offspring.'

You Are Being Loved

Zephaniah 3:17
The Lord your God is in your midst,
A mighty one who will save;
He will rejoice over you with gladness;
He will quiet you by his love;
He will exult over you with loud singing.

Romans 8:1
There is therefore now no condemnation
For those who are in Christ Jesus.

Isaiah 49:16
Behold, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands;
Your walls are continually before me.

You are being loved,
There's a song being sung over you...

See the Glory

Wake up and see the glory
Open your eyes and take it in
Wake up and be amazed
Over and over again

Lord of the Dance

I am the heart, You are the heartbeat
I am the eyes, You are the sight
And I see clearly, I am just a body
You are the life
I move my feet, I go through the motions
But You give purpose to chance
I am the dancer
You are the Lord of the dance

How can we keep from singing?

Who keeps the rocks from crying out?
Who are the voices that will shout his praise?
Who are the ones who bear his name?
Who are the children he has claimed as his?

What a goof...

Eulogy

Lighthouse

Bouncing like a buoy
drifting on the water
Singletary solitute man begins to holler
he says "man overboard"
I jump ship on the trip
it was a worldwide cruise
trading riches for some fishes
I've got nothing more to lose
I'm a man overboard
I'm a man overboard

If it wasn't for the lighthouse
where would my life be?
On a trip bound for nowhere
on a unforgiving sea
I thank God for the light

Legs and arms are burning
I swim against the tide
keep an eye above the water
so I can see the light
I'm a man overboard
I dream about the Saviour
I dream about the shore
I feel the sand
You take my hand
and we will walk forevermore
I'm a man overboard
I'm a man overboard

If it wasn't for the lighthouse
where would my life be?
On a ship bound for nowhere
on an unforgiving sea
I thank God
If it wasn't for the lighthouse
where would my life be?
On a ship bound for nowhere
on an unforgiving sea
I thank God for the lighthouse
I thank God for the light

3

Do you remember
The way our life used to be
Always together
The world was full of mystery
Every sunrise was
Adventure begun
Every sunset a new
Victory won
Where shall we go from here?

Now is the time to give you our lives
And burn like a fire in the night
I am yours; I’ll heed the battle call
As long as you’re along

I’ve been told
A thousand times before
To get old and
stop this playing war
but how can you say
that this is peaceful night
is there any
love left in this fight
where shall we go from here.

There’s a time for war
A time for peace
A time to embrace
A time to release
There’s a time to keep
And a time to set free
There is a time, all the time
For you and me.

A Question

What is life without friends?

"Earth laughs in flowers."
-Emerson

A Song Left Unplayed

The Skies were wonderful today!
I came out at sunrise
To the warm greeting of the morning sun
My soul was at rest
The rays of the sun
Peaked out through the clouds
And danced their way
On to my face
I felt a reassurance
That everything was going to be fine

Then evening came and the rains fell
Again i felt comfort
Though the rain poured without ceasing
On to the concrete
I still felt the joy
That only One can bring
I went outside with my black umbrella
And danced to a song left unplayed

O For a Thousand Tongues to Sing

O for a thousand tongues to sing
my great Redeemer's praise,
the glories of my God and King,
the triumphs of his grace!

My gracious Master and my God,
assist me to proclaim,
to spread through all the earth abroad
the honors of thy name.

Jesus! the name that charms our fears,
that bids our sorrows cease;
'tis music in the sinner's ears,
'tis life, and health, and peace.

He breaks the power of canceled sin,
he sets the prisoner free;
his blood can make the foulest clean;
his blood availed for me.

He speaks, and listening to his voice,
new life the dead receive;
the mournful, broken hearts rejoice,
the humble poor believe.

Hear him, ye deaf; his praise, ye dumb,
your loosened tongues employ;
ye blind, behold your savior come,
and leap, ye lame, for joy.

In Christ, your head, you then shall know,
shall feel your sins forgiven;
anticipate your heaven below,
and own that love is heaven.

Ancient Lullaby (Psalm 133)

Hinei ma tov uima naiim
Shevet achim gam yachad
Hinei ma tov
Shevet achim gam yachad

Pity vs. Passion

Pity sees suffering and wants to ease the pain; passion sees injustice and wants to settle the score.

An Untamed Mind

I find God everywhere I go, I can't escape him. Everything reminds me of his existence. All creation was breathed into existence from his imagination. What a wild heart he has. Only someone truly fierce and untamed could have thought up the stars. He is so full of existence...

"In order that we finite beings may apprehend the Emperor He translates His glory into multiple forms-into stars, woods, waters, beasts, and the bodies of men." - Lewis

Eucatastrophe

"At the core of every great adventure story, there has to be a sense of catastrophe and eucatastrophe, and the eucatastrophe has to be stronger than the catastrophe. Christ is the eucatastrophe of all time. There's something catastrophic about Him, He's scandalous, He breaks every expectation, He does everything not the way we expect. He is the eucatastrophe of all time. But where as in our stories, our eucatastrophe are imaginative, He is true." -Tolkien

(This is the conversation that turned C.S. Lewis over to Christ)

"...but where sin increased, grace abounded all the more."
(Romans 5:20b ESV)

Do you believe that?
Your whole worldview will depend on whether you believe that or not.

The Intelligence of a Fool

In order for anyone to become truly intelligent, they need to realize first that they are a fool. Once they’ve realized this, they can move on and not have to worry about looking like one. “A fool thinks himself to be wise, but a wise man knows himself to be a fool. –(Shakespeare)

The Garden of the god

She found Michael Moon standing under the garden tree, looking over
the hedge; hunched like a bird of prey, with his large pipe hanging down
his long blue chin. The very hardness of his expression pleased her,
after the nonsense of the new engagement and the shilly-shallying
of her other friends.

"I am sorry I was cross, Mr. Moon," she said frankly. "I hated you
for being a cynic; but I've been well punished, for I want a cynic
just now. I've had my fill of sentiment--I'm fed up with it.
The world's gone mad, Mr. Moon--all except the cynics, I think.
That maniac Smith wants to marry my old friend Mary, and she--
and she--doesn't seem to mind."

Seeing his attentive face still undisturbedly smoking, she added smartly,
"I'm not joking; that's Mr. Smith's cab outside. He swears he'll
take her off now to his aunt's, and go for a special licence.
Do give me some practical advice, Mr. Moon."

Mr. Moon took his pipe out of his mouth, held it in his hand
for an instant reflectively, and then tossed it to the other side
of the garden. "My practical advice to you is this," he said:
"Let him go for his special licence, and ask him to get another
one for you and me."

"Is that one of your jokes?" asked the young lady.
"Do say what you really mean."

"I mean that Innocent Smith is a man of business,"
said Moon with ponderous precision--"a plain, practical man:
a man of affairs; a man of facts and the daylight.
He has let down twenty ton of good building bricks suddenly
on my head, and I am glad to say they have woken me up.
We went to sleep a little while ago on this very lawn, in this
very sunlight. We have had a little nap for five years or so,
but now we're going to be married, Rosamund, and I can't see
why that cab..."

"Really," said Rosamund stoutly, "I don't know what you mean."

"What a lie!" cried Michael, advancing on her with brightening eyes.
"I'm all for lies in an ordinary way; but don't you see that to-night
they won't do? We've wandered into a world of facts, old girl.
That grass growing, and that sun going down, and that cab at the door,
are facts. You used to torment and excuse yourself by saying I
was after your money, and didn't really love you. But if I stood
here now and told you I didn't love you--you wouldn't believe me:
for truth is in this garden to-night."

"Really, Mr. Moon..." said Rosamund, rather more faintly.

He kept two big blue magnetic eyes fixed on her face.
"Is my name Moon?" he asked. "Is your name Hunt? On my honour,
they sound to me as quaint and as distant as Red Indian names.
It's as if your name was `Swim' and my name was `Sunrise.' But our
real names are Husband and Wife, as they were when we fell asleep."

"It is no good," said Rosamund, with real tears in her eyes;
"one can never go back."

"I can go where I damn please," said Michael, "and I can carry
you on my shoulder."

"But really, Michael, really, you must stop and think!"
cried the girl earnestly. "You could carry me off my feet, I dare say,
soul and body, but it may be bitter bad business for all that.
These things done in that romantic rush, like Mr. Smith's, they--
they do attract women, I don't deny it. As you say, we're all
telling the truth to-night. They've attracted poor Mary, for one.
They attract me, Michael. But the cold fact remains:
imprudent marriages do lead to long unhappiness and disappointment--
you've got used to your drinks and things--I shan't be
pretty much longer--"

"Imprudent marriages!" roared Michael. "And pray where in earth
or heaven are there any prudent marriages? Might as well talk
about prudent suicides. You and I have dawdled round each other
long enough, and are we any safer than Smith and Mary Gray,
who met last night? You never know a husband till you marry him.
Unhappy! of course you'll be unhappy. Who the devil are you
that you shouldn't be unhappy, like the mother that bore you?
Disappointed! of course we'll be disappointed. I, for one,
don't expect till I die to be so good a man as I am at this minute--
a tower with all the trumpets shouting."

"You see all this," said Rosamund, with a grand sincerity in her solid face,
"and do you really want to marry me?"

"My darling, what else is there to do?" reasoned the Irishman. "What other
occupation is there for an active man on this earth, except to
marry you? What's the alternative to marriage, barring sleep?
It's not liberty, Rosamund. Unless you marry God, as our nuns do in Ireland,
you must marry Man--that is Me. The only third thing is to marry yourself--
yourself, yourself, yourself--the only companion that is never satisfied--
and never satisfactory."

"Michael," said Miss Hunt, in a very soft voice, "if you won't talk so much,
I'll marry you."

Silence

Silence is not easy to come by in this day of age. Cell phones, MP3 players, radios, they’re all constantly turned on. Students can’t even do homework anymore without music playing. Sometimes it seems that people forget what silence actually sounds like. What really can anyone get from silence? Is it all meaningless or can you learn more from it.

Words have lost their creative power. Their limitless multiplication has made us lose confidence in words and caused us to think, more often than not, “They are just words.” The result of this is that the main function of the word, which is communication, is no longer realized. The word no longer communicates, no longer fosters communion, no longer creates community, and therefore no longer gives life. Often it seems that we find ourselves entangled in such a complex network of discussion, debates, and arguments about God and “God-issues” that a simple conversation with God or a simple presence to God has become practically impossible.

Our verbal ability has sometimes become a poor substitute for a single-minded commitment to the Word who is life. Silence remains as indispensable today as it was in the past. The Word of God is born out of the eternal silence of God, and it is to this Word out of silence that we want to be witnesses. Silence is the mystery of the future world. Silence guards the fire within and silence teaches us to speak.

A more positive meaning of silence is that it protects the inner fire. Silence guards the inner heat of religious emotions. This inner heat is the life of the Holy Spirit within us. Thus, silence is the discipline by which the inner fire of God is tended and kept alive. Sometimes it seems that our many words are more an expression of our doubt than of our faith. It is as if we are not sure that God’s Spirit can touch the hearts of people: we have to help Him out and, with many words, convince others of His power.

Out of His eternal silence God spoke the Word, and through this Word created and re-created the world. Then in the fullness of time, God’s Word, through whom all had been created, became flesh and gave power to all who believe to become the children of God. In all this, the Word of God does not break the silence of God, but rather unfolds the immeasurable richness of His silence.

Words can only create communion and thus new life when they embody the silence from which they emerge. As soon as we begin to take hold of each other by our words, and use words to defend ourselves or offend others, the word no longer speaks of silence. But when the word calls forth the healing and restoring stillness of its own silence, few words are needed: much can be said without much being spoken.

Too often our words are superfluous, inauthentic, and shallow. It is a good discipline to wonder in each new situation if people wouldn’t be better served by our silence than by our words. But having acknowledged this, a more important message from the desert is that silence is above all a quality of the heart that can stay with us even in our conversation with others.

U2 Through the Years...

The Tree

How can such a simple thing as a tree be beautiful?
The rich green colors intertwined with the deep brown
Mix in perfect unison
The Sunlight bounces off the trees and gives it a glorious appeal
A tree represents life...true life
Not a misrepresentation
Of what we think life is
But the kind of life that doesn't die



We often forget the beauty of a simple tree
We are usually surrounded by the green giants
That we become accustomed to their divinity
But if a man is alone, let him take comfort
From the warm colors and find peace

Manalive

So today i bought a bunch of new books and one of them is called Manalive by GK Chestersen. So far my favorite part of the first chapter is this...

"Somebody's lost a good hat, said Dr. Warner shortly.

Almost as he spoke, another object came over the garden wall,
flying after the fluttering panama. It was a big green umbrella.
After that came hurtling a huge yellow Gladstone bag,
and after that came a figure like a flying wheel of legs,
as in the shield of the Isle of Man.

But though for a flash it seemed to have five or six legs,
it alighted upon two, like the man in the queer telegram.
It took the form of a large light-haired man in gay green holiday clothes.
He had bright blonde hair that the wind brushed back like a German's,
a flushed eager face like a cherub's, and a prominent pointing nose,
a little like a dog's. His head, however, was by no means cherubic
in the sense of being without a body. On the contrary, on his vast
shoulders and shape generally gigantesque, his head looked oddly
and unnaturally small. This gave rise to a scientific theory
(which his conduct fully supported) that he was an idiot."

Crispian's Day Speech

If we are markt to dye, we are enow
To doe our Countrey losse: and if to liue,
The fewer men, the greater share of honour.
Gods will, I pray thee wish not one man more.
By Ioue, I am not couetous for Gold,
Nor care I who doth feed vpon my cost:
It yernes me not, if men my Garments weare;
Such outward things dwell not in my desires.
But if it be a sinne to couet Honor,
I am the most offending Soule aliue.
No 'faith, my Couze, wish not a man from England:
Gods peace, I would not loose so great an Honor,
As one man more me thinkes would share from me,
For the best hope I haue. O, doe not wish one more:
Rather proclaime it (Westmerland) through my Hoast,
That he which hath no stomack to this fight,
Let him depart, his Pasport shall be made,
And Crownes for Conuoy put into his Purse:
We would not dye in that mans companie,
That feares his fellowship, to dye with vs.
This day is call'd the Feast of Crispian:
He that out-liues this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when this day is named,
And rowse him at the Name of Crispian.
He that shall see this day, and liue old age,
Will yeerely on the Vigil feast his neighbours,
And say, to morrow is Saint Crispian.
Then will he strip his sleeue, and shew his skarres:
Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot:
But hee'le remember, with aduantages,
What feats he did that day. Then shall our Names,
Familiar in his mouth as household words,
Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester,
Be in their flowing Cups freshly remembred.
This story shall the good man teach his sonne:
And Crispine Crispian shall ne're goe by,
From this day to the ending of the World,
But we in it shall be remembred;
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers:
For he to day that sheds his blood with me,
Shall be my brother: be he ne're so vile,
This day shall gentle his Condition.
And Gentlemen in England, now a bed,
Shall thinke themselues accurst they were not here;
And hold their Manhoods cheape, whiles any speakes,
That fought with vs vpon Saint Crispines day.

I pray thee beare my former Answer back:
Bid them atchieue me, and then sell my bones.
Good God, why should they mock poore fellowes thus?
The man that once did sell the Lyons skin
While the beast liu'd, was kill'd with hunting him.
A many of our bodyes shall no doubt
Find Natiue Graues: vpon the which, I trust
Shall witnesse liue in Brasse of this dayes worke.
And those that leaue their valiant bones in France,
Dying like men, though buryed in your Dunghills,
They shall be fam'd: for there the Sun shall greet them,
And draw their honors reeking vp to Heauen,
Leauing their earthly parts to choake your Clyme,
The smell whereof shall breed a Plague in France.
Marke then abounding valour in our English:
That being dead, like to the bullets crasing,
Breake out into a second course of mischiefe,
Killing in relapse of Mortalitie.
Let me speake prowdly: Tell the Constable,
We are but Warriors for the working day:
Our Gaynesse and our Gilt are all besmyrcht
With raynie Marching in the painefull field.
There's not a piece of feather in our Hoast:
Good argument (I hope) we will not flye:
And time hath worne vs into slouenrie.
But by the Masse, our hearts are in the trim:
And my poore Souldiers tell me, yet ere Night,
They'le be in fresher Robes, or they will pluck
The gay new Coats o're the French Souldiers heads,
And turne them out of seruice. If they doe this,
As if God please, they shall; my Ransome then
Will soone be leuyed.
Herauld, saue thou thy labour:
Come thou no more for Ransome, gentle Herauld,
They shall haue none, I sweare, but these my ioynts:
Which if they haue, as I will leaue vm them,
Shall yeeld them little, tell the Constable

Religion?

I put no stock in religion. By the word religion I have seen the lunacy of fanatics of every denomination be called the will of God. I have seen too much religion in the eyes of too many murderers. Holiness is in right action, and courage on behalf of those who cannot defend themselves, and goodness. What God desires is your heart...

You Have to Try...

Love is passion, obsession, someone you can't live without. If you don't start with that, what are you going to end up with? Fall head over heels. I say find someone you can love like crazy and who'll love you the same way back. And how do you find her? Forget your head and listen to your heart. I'm not hearing any heart. Run the risk, if you get hurt, you'll come back. Because, the truth is there is no sense living your life without this. To make the journey and not fall deeply in love - well, you haven't lived a life at all. You have to try. Because if you haven't tried, you haven't lived.

Shadowlands

The Necessity of Hell

The Great Divorce
In a bus excursion from Hell, the narrator of the story talks with a spirit (George MacDonald) about an incident they both just witnessed. In this incident another ghost from Hell still tries to lay guilt upon his wife who now resides in Heaven to get her to do his will.
"Would ye rather he still had the power of tormenting her? He did it many a day and many a year in their earthly life."

"Well, no. I suppose I don't want that."

"What then?"

"I hardly know, Sir. What some people say on earth is that the final loss of one soul give the lie to all the joy of those who are saved."

"Ye see it does not."

"I feel in a way that it ought to."

"That sounds very merciful: but see what lurks behind it."

"What?"

"The demand of the loveless and the self-imprisoned that they should be allowed to blackmail the universe: that till they consent to be happy (on their own terms) no one else shall taste joy: that theirs should be the final power; that Hell should be able to veto Heaven."

"I don't know what I want, Sir."

"Son, son, it must be one way or the other. Either the day must come when joy prevails and all the makers of misery are no longer able to infect it: or else for ever and ever the makers of misery can destroy in others the happiness they reject for themselves. I know it has a grand sound to say ye'll accept no salvation which leaves even one creature in the dark outside. But watch that sophistry or ye'll make a Dog in a Manger the tyrant of the universe."

Lionheart Defined

Lionheart (n) li·on·heart - [lahy-uhn-hahrt] a person of exceptional courage and bravery. See Deut 31:6

Lionheart

This is a song that Ben and I just finished writing...

Lionheart

They said to wage a war
To fight for this belief
And know what I fight for
And not return my grief
But when I say a soldier
I mean a theologian
They want me to act older
Commitment all unspoken.

To leave some people broken
And face down in the mud
since my depraved emotions
Can’t be used for good
God, are you a metaphor
a topic for philosophy.
If you are then what am I fighting for?
I just need you to be.
I just need you to be.
O please. Just be real.

So tear these safe walls down
I do not want control
don’t need to analyze
for you to fill my soul.
Don’t let me see the stars
As hydrogen and flame
Don’t let me see these scars
As anything but pain.

Is it all to just be seen
The world upon its knees
upon a laptop screen
Call me Socrates, think and not move.
Are you a metaphor?
topic for philosophy.
Then what am I fighting for?
I just need you to be.
I just need you to be.
O please. Just be.

Even if these eyes can’t see you
My spirit feels what you’re doing
I looked to the heavens to find you
But I found you right here beside me
You shake me up; you turn me round
You flip everything upside down
Oh God, make me a Lionheart!

God, are you a metaphor?
a topic for philosophy.
If you are then what am I fighting for?
I just need you to be.
I just need you to be.
O please. Just be real.