Greetings Dear Readers,
Avalon told me last night she is divorcing me. Please pray that only Christ has his way in this. For the record, I love her and want our marriage to work. For the record she says she can never trust me again. This is not an issue of infidelity or unfaithfulness.
My heart is broken. I am an idealist and believe that all can work out if we walk in faith. I failed in my first marriage because I ran when things seemed painful and hard. I feel today how my first wife must have felt then. For the record here is where I stand:
I love Avalon and always will
I cannot control her actions
She is doing as she wills
I am willing to do anything to build a Christ centered marriage
She is not
She has stated clearly that she wants her own life
Please pray that her every action, thought, and pursuit are centered on Christ alone
Please pray the same for me
I will continue to write and attempt to be light and salt. My children continue to be great sources of support and comfort but they are hurting too. Pray for them to heal. Pray that I find a way to be a source of healing for others. She is the one who has captured my heart. "For he wrote your name on my heart in flame, its a wound I'll not erase." The door will always be open to her. The journey will be longer without her. But it is about the journey and not those who leave us along the way. I seek Christ alone.
Wishing you joy in the Journey,
Aramis Thorn
07 October 2008
06 October 2008
For Ailing Cubs Fans Everywhere
Greetings Beloved Readers,
Here is an excerpt from my forthcoming book - Sheetrock in the Road. Let me know if it helps.
There are sacred places spoken of only in hushed tones of deep reverence. There are sacred places that elicit wild yelps, screams, and that cause people to roll on the floor or faint. According to Moses, there are even sacred places that cause you to take off your shoes. Across the world stand cathedrals built centuries ago where the slightest whisper echoes from the marble and the granite floors. They command silence from the pilgrim and reverence. In these vast halls of wood and stone, tall spires rise up to the heavens to tell all that they can, “Come here to find God.” Bells peel from these towers calling all to worship and prayer.
The natural world of cathedral mountain sanctuaries and finger of God canyons still the murmurs of tourists as they unfold their splendor to visitors. Azure rivers wind through brown ravines. Deep forests echo with the symphony of life causing the hiker to push on a little deeper, never knowing quite what he seeks. Everyone, if they are looking, finds a sacred place, a Mecca that sings to his or her soul of what has gone before and what may possibly someday follow.
Sometimes someone shares with you his or her sacred place. They give it as gift. They pay the way and show you to your place. For the very fortunate few upon whose soul God shines his most glorious light, the pitcher’s mound is that sacred place. The chosen see the truth imbued in the barren dirt mound at the time of creation. The enlightened know that all manner of things emanate from this one place into the hearts of small boys and ancient men. It stands just slightly elevated above the rest of the baseball field and it is from this shrine that the worship begins.
The pews fill slowly with eager worshipers. The stewards finalize their preparations of the garden by raking the rich sweet grass around the dais then smoothing the dirt and checking for litter or debris. Consider the first lesson learned around the mound. It stands alone, a ruddy dirt lump in a sea of costly cultured green fescue. Equidistant from the bases, it appears an eye sore to the uninitiated. Instead, it is the beginning of all things. The game cannot begin until the pitcher takes his place and hurls the sphere sixty feet to the catcher. So important is this moment that dignitaries from all areas of life vie for the honor of throwing out the first pitch. I do not want to get ahead of myself though. Before there can be a first pitch there must be a call to worship.
The lector announces that all is ready for worship and all rise as one to intone the baseball hymn. As a boy, I grew up worshiping at the mound in Atlanta Stadium. The hymn held special meaning for me. I would see my Grandfather stand facing the flag, a moist spot in the corner of his eye, his hand reverently over his heart. Once when I was distracted during the singing of the hymn, I began to look around. My Grandfather slowly reached out his strong gentle carpenter’s hand, grasped the top of my head, and softly, irresistibly turned my attention back to the flag dancing in the evening breeze above the stadium. No words were necessary and besides he was busy singing in his cracked old man’s country voice. It was the first time I remember thinking that the song was about our team, “… and the home of the Braves.”[1]
The flag flows in the breeze atop the stadium and the voices lift to it. The singing of the National Anthem provides us with a moment of unity. We declare to the world that we are one nation. We remind millions of people every day that there is a symbol of our nation that waves in the wind over even our leisure activities. The national anthem at the beginning of every ball game matters.
The time from pitch to home run is a matter of seconds, and every pitch has that potential. Each ball thrown could end up sailing over the fence into the glove or head of a waiting fan. It does not matter which team hits the home run everyone loves to see it. In every game, every pitch from every pitcher has the same potential. Weather curve ball, breaking ball, or fastball the binary choices unfold with the same potential conclusion. Every batter has the chance to reach that potential, even pitchers.[2]
The point is that baseball is about potential. From atop the mound the pitcher unfolds a potential that reaches the entire world. Every spring the potential released by the first pitch from every pitcher’s mound emanates the possibility that dreams can be realized. Every player on the field started out as a boy in the bleachers. Each successive pitch is renewed hope for the next hit, the next catch, the next home run.
[1] There are many who do not understand the importance of the national anthem. Before we begin what has been often called the national pastime, we first pay tribute to a nation that allows us to have such leisure. When I was a boy this meant that you stopped talking, put your hand over your heart, looked at the flag, and sang with all your might. You showed reverence for the moment. Vendors stopped selling hot dogs, peanuts, and beer until the song was over. I do not know what has changed but people stopped teaching their children about this and those children grew up into ignoramuses who talk on their cell phones, shout for the beer boy, or even complain about the national anthem itself. That song is hard to sing, has too many high notes, and is still one of the best reminders that people died so that we could go to baseball games. So the next time you are blessed enough to go to a baseball game, hang up your cell phone, put down that beer, stand up straight, put your hand over your heart, face the flag, and sing till your throat hurts.
Here is an excerpt from my forthcoming book - Sheetrock in the Road. Let me know if it helps.
The Mound
Sometimes, when you are a boy, your Grandfather teaches you. He takes you by the hand and explains that you are going to a sacred place where men may only see God if they really look for him. On the way, while you are riding in the supple interior of the 1957 Chevy, your Grandfather explains that there are rules while you are at worship. You never call out negatively. You shout praise at the top of your lungs and revel in the thousands around you doing the same. Sometimes, when you are a boy, you learn that worshiping God has nothing to do with a place, but rather how your heart is in that place.
Sometimes, when you are a boy, your Grandfather teaches you. He takes you by the hand and explains that you are going to a sacred place where men may only see God if they really look for him. On the way, while you are riding in the supple interior of the 1957 Chevy, your Grandfather explains that there are rules while you are at worship. You never call out negatively. You shout praise at the top of your lungs and revel in the thousands around you doing the same. Sometimes, when you are a boy, you learn that worshiping God has nothing to do with a place, but rather how your heart is in that place.
There are sacred places spoken of only in hushed tones of deep reverence. There are sacred places that elicit wild yelps, screams, and that cause people to roll on the floor or faint. According to Moses, there are even sacred places that cause you to take off your shoes. Across the world stand cathedrals built centuries ago where the slightest whisper echoes from the marble and the granite floors. They command silence from the pilgrim and reverence. In these vast halls of wood and stone, tall spires rise up to the heavens to tell all that they can, “Come here to find God.” Bells peel from these towers calling all to worship and prayer.
The natural world of cathedral mountain sanctuaries and finger of God canyons still the murmurs of tourists as they unfold their splendor to visitors. Azure rivers wind through brown ravines. Deep forests echo with the symphony of life causing the hiker to push on a little deeper, never knowing quite what he seeks. Everyone, if they are looking, finds a sacred place, a Mecca that sings to his or her soul of what has gone before and what may possibly someday follow.
Sometimes someone shares with you his or her sacred place. They give it as gift. They pay the way and show you to your place. For the very fortunate few upon whose soul God shines his most glorious light, the pitcher’s mound is that sacred place. The chosen see the truth imbued in the barren dirt mound at the time of creation. The enlightened know that all manner of things emanate from this one place into the hearts of small boys and ancient men. It stands just slightly elevated above the rest of the baseball field and it is from this shrine that the worship begins.
The pews fill slowly with eager worshipers. The stewards finalize their preparations of the garden by raking the rich sweet grass around the dais then smoothing the dirt and checking for litter or debris. Consider the first lesson learned around the mound. It stands alone, a ruddy dirt lump in a sea of costly cultured green fescue. Equidistant from the bases, it appears an eye sore to the uninitiated. Instead, it is the beginning of all things. The game cannot begin until the pitcher takes his place and hurls the sphere sixty feet to the catcher. So important is this moment that dignitaries from all areas of life vie for the honor of throwing out the first pitch. I do not want to get ahead of myself though. Before there can be a first pitch there must be a call to worship.
The lector announces that all is ready for worship and all rise as one to intone the baseball hymn. As a boy, I grew up worshiping at the mound in Atlanta Stadium. The hymn held special meaning for me. I would see my Grandfather stand facing the flag, a moist spot in the corner of his eye, his hand reverently over his heart. Once when I was distracted during the singing of the hymn, I began to look around. My Grandfather slowly reached out his strong gentle carpenter’s hand, grasped the top of my head, and softly, irresistibly turned my attention back to the flag dancing in the evening breeze above the stadium. No words were necessary and besides he was busy singing in his cracked old man’s country voice. It was the first time I remember thinking that the song was about our team, “… and the home of the Braves.”[1]
The flag flows in the breeze atop the stadium and the voices lift to it. The singing of the National Anthem provides us with a moment of unity. We declare to the world that we are one nation. We remind millions of people every day that there is a symbol of our nation that waves in the wind over even our leisure activities. The national anthem at the beginning of every ball game matters.
As the song ends, the first sign that this is no ordinary worship erupts from the congregation. All explode into thunderous applause and cheers. At this point the chosen one makes his way to the mound. It may be a politician, a rock star, or current pop hero. The dignitary recognizes the import of the moment weather they understand it or not. They stand atop the dais, pause for a moment, and release what is usually an awkward rambling pitch. Nonetheless, the congregation cheers, hoops and hollers. The umpire always calls it a strike and the catcher either throws the ball back to the celebrity or trots it out to him, depending on his judgment of their ability to catch.
Amidst further cheers the dignitary departs and the seriousness of the moment descends upon the crowd. For a moment the calls vendors for peanuts and beer are ignored. Thousands of eyes focus on the pitcher as he makes his way up the mound. The umpire hands the first game ball to the catcher who tosses it out to the waiting pitcher. The first batter from the enemy team takes his place in the batter’s box. Every ear strains for the sound of the two words that will move things forward. Those lucky enough to be seated behind home plate hear it clearly. The din of the noise that is a constant in ball parks forces those seated near the outfield to wait for the sound to echo and carry to them. The point is that the words come. The man in black behind the catcher raises his hand and points toward the pitcher and intones the first holy words of the day, “Play ball.”
The pitcher looks in and takes his first signal from the catcher. Their secret language of numbers and motions tells the pitcher what to throw and the catcher what to expect. Sequestered in the pitcher’s glove is the ball. He carefully rotates to get the grip essential to the proper pitch. Carefully adjusting his footing, he looks in one more time to get his bearings. The stretch and delivery can be ponderous or lightning fast. Either way the sphere is launched and the batter must choose. Like all of life, he as little time to decide but he must decide to swing or not. From that single binary choice flow a multitude of linear binary choices. If he does not swing is it a ball or a strike? If he swings is it a hit or a miss? If it is a hit is it fair or foul? Is it a grounder or in the air? Is it a fly ball or line drive? Is it fieldable or out of reach? Is it a home run?
The time from pitch to home run is a matter of seconds, and every pitch has that potential. Each ball thrown could end up sailing over the fence into the glove or head of a waiting fan. It does not matter which team hits the home run everyone loves to see it. In every game, every pitch from every pitcher has the same potential. Weather curve ball, breaking ball, or fastball the binary choices unfold with the same potential conclusion. Every batter has the chance to reach that potential, even pitchers.[2]
The point is that baseball is about potential. From atop the mound the pitcher unfolds a potential that reaches the entire world. Every spring the potential released by the first pitch from every pitcher’s mound emanates the possibility that dreams can be realized. Every player on the field started out as a boy in the bleachers. Each successive pitch is renewed hope for the next hit, the next catch, the next home run.
Baseball has changed drastically since I was a boy. Too often it is about the money. Grown men are willing to disappoint millions of fans over money. They all need to remember that they are living a dream that few realize. They are getting paid well to play a game. With that privilege comes a great responsibility. The players of today are setting the standards of fair play for millions of young players who look to them as an example. Every player holds in his glove the hopes of a coming generation.
This is why baseball is sacred. From it I learned about potential and fair play. My Grandfather knew there were life lessons in the box seats at Atlanta Stadium and he diligently passed them along to me with a fair supply of hot dogs and Coca-Cola. You never boo the opposition. You always cheer a great play even if it is the other team. You do not leave you empty cups in the stands. You are nice to the vendors. The most important lesson though is on the mound. Poised there is the pitcher and the next pitch is imminent. The linear binary will unfold even if no one but the pitcher acts. It will pass too quickly to see. This is the definition of life. Like every pitch, every moment has new potential but only if we choose to swing.
Wishing you joy in the journey,
Aramis Thorn
[1] There are many who do not understand the importance of the national anthem. Before we begin what has been often called the national pastime, we first pay tribute to a nation that allows us to have such leisure. When I was a boy this meant that you stopped talking, put your hand over your heart, looked at the flag, and sang with all your might. You showed reverence for the moment. Vendors stopped selling hot dogs, peanuts, and beer until the song was over. I do not know what has changed but people stopped teaching their children about this and those children grew up into ignoramuses who talk on their cell phones, shout for the beer boy, or even complain about the national anthem itself. That song is hard to sing, has too many high notes, and is still one of the best reminders that people died so that we could go to baseball games. So the next time you are blessed enough to go to a baseball game, hang up your cell phone, put down that beer, stand up straight, put your hand over your heart, face the flag, and sing till your throat hurts.
[2] I think that the decline in baseball may have started with the introduction of the designated hitter by the American League. There is something integral to the game for the opposing pitchers to face each other in the linear struggle. I think it diminishes the stature of the game to say that the pitcher does not have to hit. He does not have to hit well, but he should have to hit. The designated hitter sends the message that the game is about something besides all nine men in the field doing their best and making their individual contribution to the cause. I am pretty sure that the eventual destruction of our great nation will be traced back to the introduction of the designated hitter.
04 October 2008
In Christ Alone my Hope is Found
Greetings Beloved Readers,
The media wishes for us to think that times are dark. For me they seem to be lately but not in the sense the world sees. Big things like the economy, planetary stewardship, and how we are going to power our lives loom in every morning paper and the news media. America clamors for change internally while our global respect and position dwindles.
At the more personal level, my wife Avalon has left me and will probably divorce me, I am trying to rebuild some relationships that I did not even realize I had damaged, and I have a burden that grows ever deeper for those in my family who are aging and do not know Christ.
Some would say that life for me is grim right now, but they would be wrong. As pertaining the global issues, I will do my part to be a good steward of my resources and refuse to acknowledge that my life is governed by the economy or the price of petrol. It is Christ alone who governs the world. Current stress are just the natural result of our failure to stand with Him.
The same holds true with the personal issues. In my arrogance and blindness I have failed as a husband and friend in many ways. I love my wife but realize I can do nothing to change her choices, so I can only stand with Christ and hope she does the same. For the friends I have hurt, I can only ask their forgiveness and strive all the more to be and conduit of Christ's love to them. For my relatives that need Christ, I must realize that my human failings may have hindered their seeing Christ in me and I must reach out to them will all the love that Christ places in my heart.
The common theme in all of this is that I must stand in Christ alone. No matter what I do wrong or what wrong is done to me, it is in Christ that I must find my comfort, strength, sustenance, and being. My world is in turmoil both globally and locally. In the midst of all that though stands Jesus Christ.
I have attached a You Tube video of the song In Christ Alone by Stewart Townsend. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8welVgKX8Qo)
The lyrics are included in the video. It will only take about five minutes of your time to watch. I know that the religions of the world clamor for your time, money, and souls. I would ask that you consider all of this background noise, and investigate Christ alone. It is where I stand and I find that "I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from God's love which Christ Jesus our Lord shows us. We can't be separated by death or life, by angels or rulers, by anything in the present or anything in the future, by forces or powers in the world above or in the world below, or by anything else in creation." (Romans 8:38-39) I ask humbly for you all to try standing in Christ alone.
Wishing you joy in the journey,
Aramis Thorn
The media wishes for us to think that times are dark. For me they seem to be lately but not in the sense the world sees. Big things like the economy, planetary stewardship, and how we are going to power our lives loom in every morning paper and the news media. America clamors for change internally while our global respect and position dwindles.
At the more personal level, my wife Avalon has left me and will probably divorce me, I am trying to rebuild some relationships that I did not even realize I had damaged, and I have a burden that grows ever deeper for those in my family who are aging and do not know Christ.
Some would say that life for me is grim right now, but they would be wrong. As pertaining the global issues, I will do my part to be a good steward of my resources and refuse to acknowledge that my life is governed by the economy or the price of petrol. It is Christ alone who governs the world. Current stress are just the natural result of our failure to stand with Him.
The same holds true with the personal issues. In my arrogance and blindness I have failed as a husband and friend in many ways. I love my wife but realize I can do nothing to change her choices, so I can only stand with Christ and hope she does the same. For the friends I have hurt, I can only ask their forgiveness and strive all the more to be and conduit of Christ's love to them. For my relatives that need Christ, I must realize that my human failings may have hindered their seeing Christ in me and I must reach out to them will all the love that Christ places in my heart.
The common theme in all of this is that I must stand in Christ alone. No matter what I do wrong or what wrong is done to me, it is in Christ that I must find my comfort, strength, sustenance, and being. My world is in turmoil both globally and locally. In the midst of all that though stands Jesus Christ.
I have attached a You Tube video of the song In Christ Alone by Stewart Townsend. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8welVgKX8Qo)
The lyrics are included in the video. It will only take about five minutes of your time to watch. I know that the religions of the world clamor for your time, money, and souls. I would ask that you consider all of this background noise, and investigate Christ alone. It is where I stand and I find that "I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from God's love which Christ Jesus our Lord shows us. We can't be separated by death or life, by angels or rulers, by anything in the present or anything in the future, by forces or powers in the world above or in the world below, or by anything else in creation." (Romans 8:38-39) I ask humbly for you all to try standing in Christ alone.
Wishing you joy in the journey,
Aramis Thorn
01 October 2008
Stepping on Toes or Stepping on Heels
Greetings Dear Readers,
Some time ago I wrote about the difference between being a Christian and being a Christ Follower. You can read that post here if you wish, http://aramisthorn.blogspot.com/2007/06/do-not-call-me-christian.html
In the current political season we are hearing a great deal about the place of Christ in government and debates deal with issues such as same sex marriage and abortion rights. As a Christ Follower I think that we lose our focus during these times. We become so embroiled in the arguments over hot political issues that we forget to focus on Christ in the political process.
I recently had a discussion with one of my teaching colleagues in which he were shocked to learn that I was a Christ Follower but held political views similar to his. When pressed on certain issues his anger was aroused that I believed that same sex marriages are not a good thing and that abortion is wrong. A truth dawn on me as a marshaled arguments for my position in my mind. I had a choice. I could argue my point, and perhaps win, but was it right for me to argue my position in these issues? Would that be Following Christ.
As my friend continued to heatedly make his points about a woman's right and ethics in a given situation, I realized I had a choice. I had excellent arguments against what was being said, but I also saw an opportunity. My primary obligation to this friend was to connect him to Christ in any way possible. Instead of arguing the issues of abortion I chose to be kind and gentle.
My answer on the issue of abortion was just this; It is the responsibility of Christ Followers to care for those in need socially. How can we dare ask a woman not to abort her child if we will not make keeping the child the most supportive and loving environment to be found on earth. Instead of protesting outside of clinics, why are we not providing care for the mother and child to term and beyond if necessary. We could release the resources to provide medical care, education, counseling, adoption services, and child rearing training. We could show the love of Christ in such a way that any choice other than keeping the child seems absurd.
My point is that we need to follow Christ more closely so as to not step on as many toes. Do not get me wrong, following Christ will lead to some serious toe-stepping, but not the argumentative and unkind flavor that permeates the current religious climate in America. Perhaps a more light hearted example will illustrate my point.
My daughter, Christmas likes to walk very close behind me when we are out and about. She very often steps on the back of my shoe. Her past, before she came to live in our home, taught her that this was reason enough to receive a beating or punishment. The first few times it happened she shrank back in fear, not knowing how I would react. One day, in a moment of what can only be true Divine inspiration, I came upon an answer that would relieve her fear.
The next time she stepped on the back of my shoe, I turned and thanked her. She looked very puzzled so I explained. I told her that every time she did that I was reminded of how closely I wished her to follow Christ. That from now on when she stepped on my shoe, I would view it as a reminder of how closely we should all follow Christ. This little thing has done much to assure her of her place in Christ and in our family. It has done much for me as well.
You see, I must also follow Christ so closely that sometimes I step on the back of his sandal. The simple choice is to this or always be stepping on the toes of those to whom I am supposed to represent Christ. I have done a lot of toe stepping over the years. I am going to try much harder to step on Christ's heels instead. I do not think he will mind.
Wishing you joy in the journey,
Aramis Thorn
Some time ago I wrote about the difference between being a Christian and being a Christ Follower. You can read that post here if you wish, http://aramisthorn.blogspot.com/2007/06/do-not-call-me-christian.html
In the current political season we are hearing a great deal about the place of Christ in government and debates deal with issues such as same sex marriage and abortion rights. As a Christ Follower I think that we lose our focus during these times. We become so embroiled in the arguments over hot political issues that we forget to focus on Christ in the political process.
I recently had a discussion with one of my teaching colleagues in which he were shocked to learn that I was a Christ Follower but held political views similar to his. When pressed on certain issues his anger was aroused that I believed that same sex marriages are not a good thing and that abortion is wrong. A truth dawn on me as a marshaled arguments for my position in my mind. I had a choice. I could argue my point, and perhaps win, but was it right for me to argue my position in these issues? Would that be Following Christ.
As my friend continued to heatedly make his points about a woman's right and ethics in a given situation, I realized I had a choice. I had excellent arguments against what was being said, but I also saw an opportunity. My primary obligation to this friend was to connect him to Christ in any way possible. Instead of arguing the issues of abortion I chose to be kind and gentle.
My answer on the issue of abortion was just this; It is the responsibility of Christ Followers to care for those in need socially. How can we dare ask a woman not to abort her child if we will not make keeping the child the most supportive and loving environment to be found on earth. Instead of protesting outside of clinics, why are we not providing care for the mother and child to term and beyond if necessary. We could release the resources to provide medical care, education, counseling, adoption services, and child rearing training. We could show the love of Christ in such a way that any choice other than keeping the child seems absurd.
My point is that we need to follow Christ more closely so as to not step on as many toes. Do not get me wrong, following Christ will lead to some serious toe-stepping, but not the argumentative and unkind flavor that permeates the current religious climate in America. Perhaps a more light hearted example will illustrate my point.
My daughter, Christmas likes to walk very close behind me when we are out and about. She very often steps on the back of my shoe. Her past, before she came to live in our home, taught her that this was reason enough to receive a beating or punishment. The first few times it happened she shrank back in fear, not knowing how I would react. One day, in a moment of what can only be true Divine inspiration, I came upon an answer that would relieve her fear.
The next time she stepped on the back of my shoe, I turned and thanked her. She looked very puzzled so I explained. I told her that every time she did that I was reminded of how closely I wished her to follow Christ. That from now on when she stepped on my shoe, I would view it as a reminder of how closely we should all follow Christ. This little thing has done much to assure her of her place in Christ and in our family. It has done much for me as well.
You see, I must also follow Christ so closely that sometimes I step on the back of his sandal. The simple choice is to this or always be stepping on the toes of those to whom I am supposed to represent Christ. I have done a lot of toe stepping over the years. I am going to try much harder to step on Christ's heels instead. I do not think he will mind.
Wishing you joy in the journey,
Aramis Thorn
Is Our Cup Ever Empty?
Greetings Beloved Readers,
As I toil through some unwelcome changes in my life I find myself pondering the vastness of God's grace. We are created to do good works. We are built for the purpose of doing what is right. When others who claim to be Christ followers do what is wrong and it impacts us; what then should be our response. I have spent several months trying to get someone to do right by me. That is foolishness and a waste of my God-given time.
I have felt empty and allowed myself to be blind to the constant grace God was pouring on me. I cannot make anyone do anything. I cannot fill up anyone else but I can let my fullness in Christ spill over onto others. The other day Maxim and I were having breakfast and he reminded me just how much he and his brother Bezel love me (for the unaware, these are my sons). I have failed them both greatly in not letting them know just how much of my burden they ease. I have not connected to them in Christ enough to let them see their value in my life. I did all this because I was too focused on controlling that which is not in my control.
I have also realized that I was feeling that my cup was empty. At that same breakfast I took this photo:
The diner where we have breakfast is one of the best in the world. Everyone there knows us by name and the staff keeps your coffee cup full no matter how fast you drink. I habitually turn my cup on its side when I am full up so as not to waste their coffee. While it is good thing there, it is wrong when I do it to God. Like a cosmic waitress He is there constantly wanting to warm me up with His love and grace. Sometimes I turn my cup on its side to tell Him without words that I have had enough of Him for now. Doing this keeps me from being filled in a way that allows His love and grace to spill out of me and onto others.
Bezel and Maxim, I apologize to you publicly. You are the finest sons a man could want. My cup is upright and hopefully it will soon overflow again. To the rest of the world, if you see me tipping my cup over feel free to set it aright. I am far more thirsty than I realize sometimes.
Wishing you joy in the journey,
Aramis Thorn
As I toil through some unwelcome changes in my life I find myself pondering the vastness of God's grace. We are created to do good works. We are built for the purpose of doing what is right. When others who claim to be Christ followers do what is wrong and it impacts us; what then should be our response. I have spent several months trying to get someone to do right by me. That is foolishness and a waste of my God-given time.
I have felt empty and allowed myself to be blind to the constant grace God was pouring on me. I cannot make anyone do anything. I cannot fill up anyone else but I can let my fullness in Christ spill over onto others. The other day Maxim and I were having breakfast and he reminded me just how much he and his brother Bezel love me (for the unaware, these are my sons). I have failed them both greatly in not letting them know just how much of my burden they ease. I have not connected to them in Christ enough to let them see their value in my life. I did all this because I was too focused on controlling that which is not in my control.
I have also realized that I was feeling that my cup was empty. At that same breakfast I took this photo:
The diner where we have breakfast is one of the best in the world. Everyone there knows us by name and the staff keeps your coffee cup full no matter how fast you drink. I habitually turn my cup on its side when I am full up so as not to waste their coffee. While it is good thing there, it is wrong when I do it to God. Like a cosmic waitress He is there constantly wanting to warm me up with His love and grace. Sometimes I turn my cup on its side to tell Him without words that I have had enough of Him for now. Doing this keeps me from being filled in a way that allows His love and grace to spill out of me and onto others.
Bezel and Maxim, I apologize to you publicly. You are the finest sons a man could want. My cup is upright and hopefully it will soon overflow again. To the rest of the world, if you see me tipping my cup over feel free to set it aright. I am far more thirsty than I realize sometimes.
Wishing you joy in the journey,
Aramis Thorn
21 August 2008
Songs I Just Can't Listen To
Greetings Dear Readers,
If you have read the previous posts you know that Avalon has left us. I still see her and she is ever lovely and I ever love her. The music that so spoke to me of her has strangely become all barbs. She never knew that I filled my portable music with songs that inspired me and songs that reminded me of different ways in which I love her. I still listen to the songs, but they are so filled with the barbs of her absence. I fully own my failings as a husband and I miss her every moment. I also know that Christ is teaching me daily how much more he loves both her and me than I ever imagined. Please pray for us, for my children, and for healing of the great wounds her leaving has opened in all of us. Mostly pray that we all follow only Christ and that we do it closely.
Wishing you joy in the journey,
Aramis Thorn
If you have read the previous posts you know that Avalon has left us. I still see her and she is ever lovely and I ever love her. The music that so spoke to me of her has strangely become all barbs. She never knew that I filled my portable music with songs that inspired me and songs that reminded me of different ways in which I love her. I still listen to the songs, but they are so filled with the barbs of her absence. I fully own my failings as a husband and I miss her every moment. I also know that Christ is teaching me daily how much more he loves both her and me than I ever imagined. Please pray for us, for my children, and for healing of the great wounds her leaving has opened in all of us. Mostly pray that we all follow only Christ and that we do it closely.
Wishing you joy in the journey,
Aramis Thorn
30 July 2008
21 and Lessons Learned
Greetings Beloved Readers,
Things continue to progress in life even when one wishes to step off the ride and just watch. Christmas, Maxim, Raven, and I journeyed south for Bezel's 21st birthday. We all had a much needed respite and Christmas was awed by the amazing green of our nation. Since her migration here from Australia, she has remarked over and over how lush America is.
Bezel took on all comers with potent potable names on his 21st birthday. Jose', Jack, Jim, Johnny, and many others found their way down his gullet and made havoc with both his brain and belly. I was not witness to his gastronomic dance but heard about it from all my other youngsters. He seemed to learn a valuable lesson from the adventure and he still shows maturity in his choices and actions. I am proud to be his father and his friend.
Christmas and I visited Kentucky Down Under. I highly recommend this amazing place and its exotic Australian animals.
Avalon is still away but the smell of chocolate chip cookies never fades. I love her and miss her. Pray for us.
Wishing you joy in the journey,
Aramis Thorn
Things continue to progress in life even when one wishes to step off the ride and just watch. Christmas, Maxim, Raven, and I journeyed south for Bezel's 21st birthday. We all had a much needed respite and Christmas was awed by the amazing green of our nation. Since her migration here from Australia, she has remarked over and over how lush America is.
Bezel took on all comers with potent potable names on his 21st birthday. Jose', Jack, Jim, Johnny, and many others found their way down his gullet and made havoc with both his brain and belly. I was not witness to his gastronomic dance but heard about it from all my other youngsters. He seemed to learn a valuable lesson from the adventure and he still shows maturity in his choices and actions. I am proud to be his father and his friend.
Christmas and I visited Kentucky Down Under. I highly recommend this amazing place and its exotic Australian animals.
Avalon is still away but the smell of chocolate chip cookies never fades. I love her and miss her. Pray for us.
Wishing you joy in the journey,
Aramis Thorn
20 June 2008
Some Catching up to do
Greetings Beloved Readers,
Life has had much turmoil for me of late but I am attempting to regain the regiments that aide me in my journey. This will be a short post with both good news and dire.
Avalon has left me. After nearly eleven years she has said she no longer wishes to try and make our marriage work. I love her and pray daily for reconciliation but she says that is not her desire.
More work but more writing time. I am teaching full time again but it may actually provide me with more opportunities to write as it has forced me to write at other times than morning.
Awesome Father's day gift: My daughter, Christmas, gave me a Knight's Templar ring for Father's day and it is lovely.
My Son Maxim and his bride kept me busy all weekend. All of my children are caring for me well during this time of trouble.
Bezel, my youngest son, turns 21 next month and we journey south to celebrate him.
I will endeavor to write more often now that things are settling.
Wishing you joy in the journey,
Aramis Thorn
29 September 2007
The World of Writers
Greetings Dear Readers,
As I enter my second full day at my publisher's conference I find that I am amazed by the depth of talent and experience I encountered throughout the day yesterday. One the amazing moments was late last night when sixteen authors gathered to share five minute excerpts from their work.
I watched in awe as one after another read from a book that I now long to read. Some were poignant, some were humorous, and all were amazingly well written. As a storyteller, not just a writer, I could feel the love for each story in the voice of its crafter. Writers love what they write and in this case it was possible to love it with them. None of them had birthed ugly babies that we cooed at out of respect for the parent and a love of life. Each was beautiful on its own merits.
I also have talked with two excellent marketers who have given me grand ideas in how to get more readers walking through my stories with me. I will be devoting my "marketing time" to some new ventures and we will see if they pan out.
Whilst I prepare for my second full day at the conference, I am sure that the morning will find me itching to return home and accelerate the application of my new strategies. I still need to prepare for my trip to Australia and have a term of teaching to finish out. I do no have too much on my plate, but I return from this buffet of amazing writing support with said plate full to almost overflowing and a renewed spirit of what writing can be if I will allow it to be that.
Time permitting, I will report on today's activities in the morning. Until then, remember that if you aspire to write, are a writer, or have written and wander here to see what I am doing, the company of other writers is encouraging and fills one with energy. This group also fills me with hope.
Wishing you joy in the journey,
Aaramis Thorn
As I enter my second full day at my publisher's conference I find that I am amazed by the depth of talent and experience I encountered throughout the day yesterday. One the amazing moments was late last night when sixteen authors gathered to share five minute excerpts from their work.
I watched in awe as one after another read from a book that I now long to read. Some were poignant, some were humorous, and all were amazingly well written. As a storyteller, not just a writer, I could feel the love for each story in the voice of its crafter. Writers love what they write and in this case it was possible to love it with them. None of them had birthed ugly babies that we cooed at out of respect for the parent and a love of life. Each was beautiful on its own merits.
I also have talked with two excellent marketers who have given me grand ideas in how to get more readers walking through my stories with me. I will be devoting my "marketing time" to some new ventures and we will see if they pan out.
Whilst I prepare for my second full day at the conference, I am sure that the morning will find me itching to return home and accelerate the application of my new strategies. I still need to prepare for my trip to Australia and have a term of teaching to finish out. I do no have too much on my plate, but I return from this buffet of amazing writing support with said plate full to almost overflowing and a renewed spirit of what writing can be if I will allow it to be that.
Time permitting, I will report on today's activities in the morning. Until then, remember that if you aspire to write, are a writer, or have written and wander here to see what I am doing, the company of other writers is encouraging and fills one with energy. This group also fills me with hope.
Wishing you joy in the journey,
Aaramis Thorn
27 September 2007
Confering with Other Writers
Greetings Dear Readers,
Since it has been some time since my last post I thought I would share the changes that have erupted into my life. I am still writing but may real life things have hindered my time and attention to posting.
My lovely editor RJ and her husband have a new Son who seems to fill RJ's life with electric joy. I cannot wait to meet the young man and see how his mother's most excellent love fills his young heart.
My beloved Son, Maxim married his beautiful Raven this summer is a wedding that took my breath and drew my tears of joy. Their love for each other is so obvious it leeks from every pore and beams to all who come near them. Huzzah and Congratulations my beloved Son and Daughter In Law.
My younger Son, Bezel thinks he has little going on in his life but alas that is not the case. He is choosing. He is journeying that long road to the responsible side of manhood where he will determine what he becomes in his later years. He shows honesty, thoughtfulness, and wisdom in his choosing and I pray the path takes him on great adventures that thrill both him and Christ.
Avalon, my beloved Spouse and I are also gaining a Daughter in the next few weeks. Before you flood us with inquiries, Avalon is not with child but we are adopting a young lady who needs a loving home. Our soon to be Daughter, Christmas already fills our lives with joy and her love for Christ shines brightly as she journeys to us out of the darkness of her past.
I write this to you from my publisher's writing conference and hope that it finds you well. I will be back to regular posts and look forward to your feed back. The Ferrets, Avalon, and my Children greet you all.
Wishing you joy in the journey,
Aramis Thorn
Since it has been some time since my last post I thought I would share the changes that have erupted into my life. I am still writing but may real life things have hindered my time and attention to posting.
My lovely editor RJ and her husband have a new Son who seems to fill RJ's life with electric joy. I cannot wait to meet the young man and see how his mother's most excellent love fills his young heart.
My beloved Son, Maxim married his beautiful Raven this summer is a wedding that took my breath and drew my tears of joy. Their love for each other is so obvious it leeks from every pore and beams to all who come near them. Huzzah and Congratulations my beloved Son and Daughter In Law.
My younger Son, Bezel thinks he has little going on in his life but alas that is not the case. He is choosing. He is journeying that long road to the responsible side of manhood where he will determine what he becomes in his later years. He shows honesty, thoughtfulness, and wisdom in his choosing and I pray the path takes him on great adventures that thrill both him and Christ.
Avalon, my beloved Spouse and I are also gaining a Daughter in the next few weeks. Before you flood us with inquiries, Avalon is not with child but we are adopting a young lady who needs a loving home. Our soon to be Daughter, Christmas already fills our lives with joy and her love for Christ shines brightly as she journeys to us out of the darkness of her past.
I write this to you from my publisher's writing conference and hope that it finds you well. I will be back to regular posts and look forward to your feed back. The Ferrets, Avalon, and my Children greet you all.
Wishing you joy in the journey,
Aramis Thorn
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