Freddo... paura... speranza.
Questo è il mio inizio di 2010.
L'amore... Dio è amore. Io ho l'amore, lo conosco, lo amo. Sono felice, salvo, sicuro. Lo adoro, lo servo, lo voglio conoscere sempre meglio. Ed ha un nome, meraviglioso, al di sopra di ogni altro. Il Nome è Gesù, nient'altro. Tutto il resto è religione, legalismo, oppressione, morte. Voglio Lui, Lui e Lui solo. Nessun altro ha mai fatto quello che Lui ha fatto per me.
Mi sento a metà. Ho freddo, quello della solitudine. Ho paura, paura di dover aspettare ancora tanto prima di scaldarmi. Spero che la soluzione sia dietro l'angolo, magari qui... nel 2010.
Adesso sapete come mi sento!
Prima parte di un patetico post di un desertico blog, prima parte melanconica, come la terza. (seppure con l'opzione della speranza)
Seconda parte radiosa, gioiosa, intimamente pomposa. Sfarzosamente austera.
Caleidoscopio di alterne visioni. Si può stare così? Se non si può, sto infrangendo ogni regola.
"Oh, domani 24 anni... alla tua età avevo 2 figli" (mamma di VdB in un momento di inedito sadismo).
Certo, altri times. Let's talk about 80 years. A lifetime ago. There is. Pacific.
"Oh, tomorrow ... 24 years at your age we had a son and we moved house two times. About to start a business (which has proved successful)" (sister and brother-in BSI a surge of unprecedented cruelty.)
No, these are not other times. Let's talk about five years ago (or less)
These statements are not taken from "How to make someone feel a rag."
This is real life. This is Sparta.
And sometimes I feel there. A failure. 24 year old, single, unemployed, without a future social at the time of imaginable. To my face, my debts, my feelings, my experiences, my tears, my projects, my sorrows, my joys, the love that I give her, the sounds that I hear, who invented scenes, the icy wind, that mess of my hands in my hair and cry tears while listening to notes.
loved and hated. Never so many problems, I find the blessings. I find the evidence, that so many joys. Year of change. Year of return to the Cross. Year of re-opening of the heart. Well, well. Evil, evil. Year too weird to be able to repeat.
since 2010 and imagined. O is expressed or destroyed. Or is it water or roots. Either you compete or eradicated. How beautiful you are. Year of hope. Best year of my life so far.
You know how many and what feelings? Here, you have guessed a small part of what we carry inside. But much ...
I remember, right now, that some time ago a man was in the Middle East vision of terrible things that were to happen, certainly more serious than the vicissitudes of a 14 year old in the body of a 24 year old.
I read a prayer and poetry I am heartened. Power of the Word of God
Prayer of the prophet Habakkuk, the tone of the lamentations.
LORD, I have heard your message, and are overcome with fear. Lord, give your life to the work over the years! Over the years it known! In wrath, remember to have pity!
God comes from Teman, the Holy One is from Mount Paran. [Pause] His glory covered the heavens, the earth is full of his praise.
Its splendor is equal to the light rays leave from his hand, and there lies its power.
front of him walking down the fever, the fever burning follows in his footsteps.
He stops and shakes the earth looks and shakes the nations of the eternal mountains crumble, the age-old hills are lowered, his ways are those of the past.
I see the tents of Ethiopia under the pain, the halls of the land of Midian are upset.
O Lord, perhaps you angry against the rivers? Is it against the rivers you turn your anger, or is the sea that goes against your anger, while you scrap on your horses on your victorious chariots?
you checked your bow, the arrows from your word is objectionable. [Pause] You crack the earth in the beds of many rivers.
The mountains you see and tremble, pouring streams of water: the abyss makes his voice heard. The sun lifts up his hands;
the moon stops in his home, in the light of your arrows that start at the flash of your shining spear.
You walk on the earth with fury, you crush the nations in your wrath.
You go out to save your people, to free up your greasy, and you knock down the top of the house of the wicked, and demolish to the ground. [Pause] You pierce
with their own arrows the head of its leaders, who are like a hurricane to scatter, screaming with joy, as if already devoured the unhappy in their hiding places.
With your horse you step on the sea, large sparkling waters.
Ho udito e le mie viscere fremono, le mie labbra tremano a quel rumore; un tarlo mi entra nelle ossa, io tremo a ogni passo; aspetto in silenzio il giorno dell'angoscia, quando il nemico marcerà contro il popolo per assalirlo.
Infatti il fico non fiorirà, non ci sarà più frutto nelle vigne; il prodotto dell'ulivo verrà meno, i campi non daranno più cibo, le greggi verranno a mancare negli ovili, e non ci saranno più buoi nelle stalle;
ma io mi rallegrerò nel SIGNORE, esulterò nel Dio della mia salvezza.
DIO, il Signore, è la mia forza; egli renderà my feet like hinds' feet, and I will walk on the hills. the choir director. For string instruments.
Habakkuk ch. 3, The Holy Bible
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