I, I Wanna Blaze With You

Love, where is your fire?

I've been sitting here smoking away

Making signals with sticks

And odd ends and bits

But there's no sign of a flame

Imposters have been passing

Offering good-feeling glow

But I'm holding out

For what You are about

An inferno that burns to the bone

Some urge me to be temperate

Lukewarm will never do

-Love, Where is Your Fire? by Brooke Fraser.

It takes courage, and faith, and all manner of strength...

To hold out for what is real.

To dare to feel fully

The infinite void inherent in man's eternal soul.

And not hasten to fill it

With the finite solutions that this world offers.

To know that it will never be enough.

Whilst trapped in this fleshly vessel, never.

And yet still to trust that hope

Hope is coming for me.

And so to be content, in the meantime.

To wait and ache.

And run the good race.

And fight the good fight.

In sum, to be alive, fully alive.

For the glory of God is man fully alive.

It's been a ponderous weekend.

If it all makes no sense to you...

Rest assured that it makes sense to me.

P.S. I'm not depressed or on the ledge of the 18th story or anything (10 points if you can tell where that's from). There's just a time, or two, in every philosophizing person's life when he/she encounters some existential angst. Some cut themselves, others blog. See, in comparison, I'm as upbeat as the entire cast of Sesame Street wrapped in rainbow-coloured wrapping paper.

P.P.S. I'm not at all sure why you should be rested or assured by the fact that it makes sense to me and not to you. Logic indicates that it should be exactly the opposite. But hey, logic is in a state of indefinite suspension here on blogger.com.

Still Alive and Well

Me, myself and this blog I mean.
(Because once you have a blog, its state of being (i.e. dead or alive) is inextricably linked with yours.)

Meanwhile, we cannot say the same about the 917 dead in Gaza.
Nor about the 4000 injured.
Roughly half of them civilians.
280 of them children.

Heart-break: hers, mine, God's, and hopefully, the rest of the world's.

No, it hasn't taken me 17 days to catch on. It's taken me 17 days to find time to find internet.

Israel is fighting a losing battle.
Whatever the military outcome, they've lost.
Because in doing what they have done, they only prove Hamas' point - that they are, indeed, the devilish enemy.

In the unlikely event that they do annihilate Hamas, another more vicious organisation will take its place, with more followers, filled with more hate.

'Cos where do you think the fathers of the dead children will be going?
Or the sons who lost their mothers?

People wonder what makes a woman strap a bomb to herself, pretend to be pregnant, and blow up a cafe.

I wonder if I wouldn't.

If, while minding my own business, just trying to get by in conditions that make it near impossible to do so, I lost all my children in an Israeli bombing.

Or if I saw my 5-year-old daughter's face blown off by a grenade.
Or sniper wounds in my baby.

Make no mistake, I do not condone it.
But I understand it.
And I'd be surprised if you didn't.

'Cos hatred goes forth and multiplies.
And violence begets violence.

But, you know what, that's really not the point.
The point is that approximately 460 civilians are dead, and 280 of them are children.
So whoever's doing it just ought to stop.

How sobering it is when we have to speak of deaths in approximate hundreds.


In other news...

Wondering what to do with daylight
'Til I can make You mine

Is where I find myself lately.

My life could totally be set to a soundtrack of Brooke Fraser songs.


P.S. Has anyone caught the new Brooke Fraser movie? I'm dying to see it. But not actually dying, not like the Gazans, no.