Wednesday, August 06, 2008

In the Desert

I'm listening to Duffy's "Rockferry" CD, I don't know much about it but it reminds me of R&B from the '60's, almost like Aretha, a real vintage sound. I love the energy in the songs and the singer.

I could use some energy right now. Not to physically do things but to think and plan. I try to work out some solutions to problems and come out of it exhausted instead resolving it. I read Proverbs this morning for a quiet time and found myself losing track of where I was. My brain needs a work out.

While I was sick, I did some reading, though. I've had an edition of "The Prayers of Kierkegaard" for about five years and read parts of it over time. I wasn't so sure that I wanted to be influenced by the "Father of Existentialism"--to me, the wisdom not of God, but of man-- but I was intrigued by his prayers.

An example:

Father in Heaven! Great is Thine infinite kingdom. Thou who bearest the weight of the stars and who governest the forces of the world through immense spaces; numberless as the sands are those who have life and being through Thee. And yet, Thou hearest the cry of all the creatures, and the cry of man whom Thou hast specially formed. Thou hearest the cry of all men without confusing their mixed voices and without distinguishing one from another in such a way as to play favorites. Thou hearest not only the voice of one who is responsible for many others and so prays to Thee in their name, as if his high function could bring him nearer to Thee; Thou hearest not only the voice of one prays for dear ones, as if he could thereby attract Thine attention, he who is privileged in having the dear ones; no, Thou hearest also the most miserable, the most abandoned, and most solitary man--in the desert, in the multitude. And if the forgotten one has separated himself from all others; and in the crowd he has become unknown--having ceased to be a man except as a number on a list--Thou knowest him. Thous has not forgotten him. Thou rememberest his name; Thou knowest him where he is, retired, hidden in the desert, unperceived in the crowd, in the multitude. And if in the thick shadows of dread, in the prey of terrible thoughts, he was abandoned by men, abandoned almost by language men speak, still Thou wouldst not have forgotten him.

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