Colours

I woke up stuffed and runny... sort of like a barely-boiled egg that's not quite as hard as it looks and has cracked against the bottom of the pan. I slept in hour-long intervals during the day, had some more strange dreams, and ate (lol. I didn't realize this until now) a lot of eggs.

About two posts back, I wrote that I wasn't true to my blog title. Today, that is not the case.

Last night, I couldn't sleep, so I picked up a book entitled 2002 Surprising Things about God and the Bible. I was surprised.

The Bible, while being the best-selling book in the world, is also the most shop lifted.

And I re-remembered how massive and holy and hugely complex my God is. How gentle and tender. How righteous and merciful. How big! and mighty!

And even though it all went wrong,

I'll stand before the Lord of Song

With nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah!

Hallelujah...

I wonder what the angels thought as Eve ate that apricot (Yes. Yes it was an apricot). Did their wings flutter as she plucked the fruit? Did Michael the Archangel yearn to unsheath his mighty sword? Did the Angel Armies and the Heavenly Hosts forget how to sing, for one cataclysmic moment, as the apricot dropped into the woman's hand?

And Eve. Was she so ignorant of the consequences?

So I wonder. And I ruminate. And I turn it over and over in my mind, playing with the possibilities.

But in the end, the glory of God is solidified yet again, through the tragedy of Eden, or the cowardliness of Abraham in Egypt, or the wonder of Bethlehem milleniums ago.

I think that Heaven will be colourful. As it should be. Eternity spent in off-white would begin to tire a little, even with the sheer splendour and magnificence of everything.

Can you tell my thoughts are bouncing all over the place today?

Sometimes, I wish...oh, I wish a lot of stuff. Stuff, stuff, stuffed stuffity stuff. Europe and coffee and flying and marshmallow clouds and cotton pajamas and the mountains of Washington and Bastogne and trees and everything, I wish for it.

I wish right now that this blog made sense...but stuffy noses full of egg yolk and a mind crinkling with eggshells, swimming in fluffed egg whites will do that to you.

Hey. I'm getting pretty good at this typing thing. Although "G" tends to elude my fingers at times.

And, in regard to my dreams and wishes, I'm holding fast. Not only to dreams, come to think of it. Also to life, and love, and the hope of love, and the dreary present, and dim past, and uncertain but hopeful future...

Hold fast to dreams,

For if dreams die,

Life is a broken-winged bird

That cannot fly.

Hold fast to dreams,

For when dreams go,

Life is a barren field

Frozen with snow.