more tales..

And also today, later on, I went back out looking for more rabbits. Wanted to make it a feast, I guess. I started coming into my lower field from different angles, to approach any small creatures in secret. I saw a deer, and it was beautiful. I'm always in awe when I see a deer walking around, especially when it is not alarmed by me. I crept up slowly, while still looking for rabbits, and it continued doing two things. It would eat, and then look up at me. It did this for a good amount of time. I stopped engaging it when I was about 15 yards from it. I admired its mangled brown coat. The sun was setting just above it to the right, in a completely picture perfect way. But this photographer left his camera in the house. I got on my knees, and asked God that it would not be afraid of me. And it started walking towards me. It was really curious of me. It approached me slowly. I didn't know if I should make noises or not. I didn't want to resemble a predator in any way. I was also slightly worried that there might be a buck that would come up on me for getting close to his fawn. Didn't worry too much though, cause I had a big ass knife in my belt. It came to be about 5 yards from me, and I could barely believe it. And then it ran, and didn't stop. And that was the end of that. I experienced great joy, this day.

my daily bread

Today in my yard, I went looking for rabbits with a .22 rifle in my hands. I was determined to get myself and my dog a good meal. As I kept walking I saw a massive bird fly away from where it was landed in front of me. I didn't think much of it, and kept walking. As I came near to where it was landed, I saw a rabbit. I continued getting close to it, preparing to shoot it. And I decided it was too small. I didn't want to kill something who hadn't been on the earth a single year. So instead I just kept walking towards it to see when it would run, but it never did. And then I made the connection that the bird had attacked this rabbit. I went up to it, and it had two or three wounds. It's back legs and front left leg were completely unusable. It was definitely afraid of me as it tried to hop away, failing at every attempt. It couldn't even stand up. So I decided to pick it up and bring it back to the house. I brought it inside so the dog could smell it, but Jesse tried instantly to eat it and then repeated this effort again and again. Part of me was happy, and part of me wanted to kick her. So I brought the rabbit back outside. I was still thinking about trying to save it, but there was too much damage. So I decided to kill it. Now I was just thinking about the means of how I was going to kill it. I only have one .22 bullet, so that was out of the picture. I grabbed my knife, and was thinking about it, and then I stopped thinking. I just swung. The head came off, and the rabbit was dead. I skinned it and cut off all its feet. I took its guts out, which my dog ate in two or three bites. I read online earlier that it's really healthy for her. I cleaned the carcass, and it is in my refrigerator ready to be cooked tomorrow. the hide is being tanned. The feet are being preserved. I just got done boiling the skull to properly preserve it, which will appropriately be around my neck tomorrow in the form of a necklace. I completely honor this rabbit, and thank God for his provision. I recognize that it is the creation of God, therefore I treat it with respect.

peace, grace, love

Again, I did not ask for this life, at least to my current knowledge. I mean, I guess if I had been given a choice sometime before my human existence, I would probably accept the ignorance and challenges of life. Nevertheless, this is where I was planted. This ridiculous family, an oppressive government, a destructive culture, and a message of a perfect man from 2000 years ago.

What shall I do accept grow? I didn't choose these ears, this nose, or this skin color, and neither did the others all around me. They are trying their best to deal with what they were thrown into.

I guess it's all anyone can do.

If I am not accepted, what then will I do? What can be done other than moving on? And so I shall do. I shall grow where I'm planted. And knowing that others are simple trying to do likewise, maybe I will offer grace.

Thomas,

My right hand clasps faith, as my left gently grasps doubt. my right embraces doubt; left gently clasps faith. Can certainty accompany faith? How can this be? Again my gaze struggles to look past the cumbersome shadow of doubt. It blots out the sun, leaving me the simple sight of its silhouette and the light thereof. My struggle gains no meaning. My eyes yearn a divine blinding. I desire for his light to pierce doubt's ever-thick shadow.


Morgan

from the past

These words seem to be useless. Why take this time and put my thoughts into words, when I have so little hope that they will matter? But on I write this useless letter to no one. My faith is draining like a leaky facet. Little by little the drops of my faith slowly pour out. It is very sad, and indeed I can feel wetness in my eyes accumulating. Knowledge, I have. Wisdom, I’ve gained. Faith, I had. Shall I continue to bow my head to a God who will not show himself? Why is their a fear inside me in speaking of this? Even now, in the stillness and loneliness of my room I fear writing the silent words. Is this really real? Am I really touching the plastic on my keyboard? And why is there this longing inside of me for the God of the bible to show himself? Are we really all this empty? Is this all there is to life? Is our calling really only to have faith in an unseen God, and to promote this blindness? Shall we give out eye covers to people and say, “see this is much better.”

I didn’t even think I was going to write any questions when I started this.

And everything I write turns into a prayer. As it does now:

God, look at me right now. See my heart which desires you. How can a blind man find what needs to be seen? Or the mute what needs to be heard? Father, I am inadequately prepared for this task. I am Thomas. I am Morgan. Together let us feel your hands and side

I want to see God. I want to touch God. Refresh me. Who can make a stale bread fresh? Who can make fresh the withered fruit? This needs be done supernaturally. So again, I pray the simple words of, God show yourself.

God show yourself.

Where are you?

Once I looked under the bed.

Then I looked out by a lake.

I searched for you in the churches.

And in every corner of this dark room,

But you are nowhere to be found.

-Written in the past. My thoughts have changed since then. This was a letter I wrote a while ago intending it not to be seen by others, but I think this is good. Posting it, that is.

i see that i don't see

i hold dreams in my right hand, and failures in my left. one day i will pass up emptiness for fulfillment, but today i am retrogressing. this misery is long and fearful. it seems no one can alleviate my burden.

you've heard familiar words of life represented as a dark room, but i say it is a hall. it is long and narrow. the ceiling is not seen, nor can it be touched. it is dully lighted along the edges of the wall and floor, but it's dimness brings about feelings of fear and emptiness. yea, i say emptiness is an adequate description of this predicament. i ran for days, even years to find the the halls end, but this task proved useless. it seemed to constrict in a slow manner despite my haste. so i looked behind for a glimpse of the past, but the dim lights reply with a few quiet blinks before turning off permanently. "why has this task been brought upon me?" i cry out. again, no answer is given. i am cold, alone and frail.


Why can I not breathe?

Clarity!

she groans at the thought of his presence. touch this bowl, you can not. her teeth being shown ever more with each new engagement. her slow movements reduce a full mouth to single bites. the hunger is not for her stomach, but she'll tell you otherwise.

you, me, her wish this division in clarity! yet it is not.

her thoughts ponder ever so subtly the thought of sweet surrender, but only half a moment. so rudely awakened as a new one paces near. walks over and touches her head. pride seeps in as ink drops in water. thoughts of, "backwardness one has, if i won't bite." but the light comes through first small then great. more small than great. then, more great than small. and the center for selfishness diminishes as darkness against light.

you, me, her wish this division to be clarified clearly! it is what it appears not.