The Stormlight Archive, Part 2

Revisiting the the epic saga of the Stormlight Archive, I'm generally impressed with several things that Sanderson does to compel the reader.

He builds the story, the world, if you will, upon the struggle of dark and light. We enter the story upon the back of a new war with an old face, and are instantly transported to the anguish and hardships that it has wrought. Much like Tolkein and Herbert before him, Sanderson is a master at weaving a story with people and places that are unique and breathable, where each character is glowing with life and personality.

Kaladin, as I stated in a previous post, is the most compelling thus far, likely because he is the focus of most of the book, and because of him being a slave.  Now, he is not just a slave to his master Lighteyes, but a slave to his code of honor.  This is ultimately what draws his honorspren, Syl, to his aid and what allows her to grant him the great power to ride the winds of the storm.

I think we find that struggle of any sort, builds character. It opens the mind to ideas and abilities that might have remained dormant otherwise. We are reminded each day, whether it be in the media or in our own lives, that life is precious and often very difficult.  However, we as human beings seem to take it for granted. We have great suicide rates, abortion rates and ridiculous wars that work to polarize us, pushing us to oppose each other in a way that feeds our core values.

Much like Kaladin, I find myself having to take a stand. I have to look within myself and become something more than just a man...and to do such, takes an idea, an action and a commitment.

Daily Devotional: Through The Flame

Isaiah 43:2

2 When you pass through the waters, I will be with you;
and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you;
when you walk through fire you shall not be burned,
and the flame shall not consume you.

My father asked me today if I was feeling alright. He asked me if I was depressed. My father is quite insightful, able to see certain signs in my behavior. I told him that I was fine, although yesterday I had begun to think negatively about my present state of affairs. I had almost succumbed to the thought that I had failed. Yet, my father, being who he is, told me that this is only a temporary situation. Very true. It is indeed temporary.

I told him that even as it was temporary, I felt that we all must reap what we sow. We all pay for the choices we make sooner or later, whether they are good or bad. He was in agreement and conveyed that he felt much the same about his cancer.

But through these trials, God is always with us. He doesn't desert us, no matter how we feel about our situations or our lives. This scripture was perfect for today, and I must meditate on its perfection. It is like a sharp sword; how much the Word is like a soothing medicine. It heals and cuts. The word builds and destroys. May it give you peace and torment, bringing you to the Light of Day.

Amen.

No Reason To Live A Lie

Someone out there has to be tired of living a lie. Tired of feeling empty, following hollow dreams that lead to other types of futility. You have to be fed up with the world and the way it mocks you and scoffs at you. The lies are right in front of our faces, and we just accept them like we're puppets, dancing and shuffling about with a hand up our back. You don't even know who's hand it is, but someone's prodding you along...

Each time you react in anger or cower in fear, that hand is grabbing hold and tossing you about. Everytime you have an argument and hide behind your pride, there's the puppetmaster, moving his fingers and making you do that dance. And you can't even see it, because you think the puppetmaster is you. You think that you're the one with the anger and the fear, yelling and screaming at anything that opposes you. And most of you will defend to the death your right to shout and curse and deliver your opinion upon others in such a way that causes division and separation. You want to be right. You're right and they're wrong.

I'm here to say that it isn't you, but it is that thief of life- your ego- that causes you to become lost to the Truth God has given us. God is the giver of love and not confusion, so these arguments are foolish to him. Your anger and pride is unwarranted. These things are false projections of the ego in an attempt to protect itself. It wants to preserve the illusion. Maybe you can refer to it as the devil or a demon. Either way, it destroys your life from the inside, controlling how you think, what you do and what you say.

There is still time to shift our present state of awareness from one that is fearful, to one that is of love. Jesus asked us to forgive as many times as it takes, no matter the circumstances. We must surrender our foolish thoughts and tendencies in order to enter the truth of love and understanding. We must leave behind the idea that all truth is relative as well, because that is nothing but a precursor to chaos. I tell you there is but one Truth, and it is the beauty of God through love and forgiveness. Surrender your heart to Him, so that He may heal you and so you may heal others.

May God bless you in your journey towards the Truth.

The Beautiful Walk

The beauty of life is yours to behold.

On my daily walks I take time to notice everything around me, with reverance and love. With each step I take, there is peace and serenity. I have no problems in these moments. There is no fear. There is only love and the feeling of God all around and within me.

I have taken to the habit of using prayer beads as I walk, holding them in my hands and running my fingers across them, one by one. Slowly I turn them and feel the texture, and I am filled again with peace. It is not even happiness, or joy. Just something greater that I can only truly decribe as serenity. The beads are as a key is to a door: they help to open my heart to God so that I can receive his Word.

My pastor would call this "quiet time". I find the more time I take, the more I desire to be with Him. It seems that time is still in these moments, and I can only give thanks and atone for my sins. These moments are of love and truth, which is the only reality that exists for us. All other things are just lies and fantasies that mar God's instructions for our lives.

Take care to feel His presence daily.

The Never Man: Forever

The grand madness feeds
gnawing at aspiration, chewing and biting bits
and wasting the rest, greasy pieces of fat
flicked away. So his head bangs a thunderous boom
shaking his mind like a bag of old nickels.
Maybe he's lost, looking for sanctuary in limbo
and there's no grace in hell.

He's colliding with variables of vintage wisdom,
finding hope in a cage, hints of honest care
that points toward The Way.
People calling out, shouting their hardened phrases
of semi-intellectual directives.
Misshapen glory-crushed impressions that curve
and crease and bend around the truth.

He's the Never-Man that never knew,
never understood the plan, cheapened religion
bought through a phony shake of hands
Walking a path without a clue, a hold
precarious at best, a brittle, mildewed rope
that will give way before long, forcing a long
way down.

Paths still sit at their zenith, waiting for walks
from mindless men that want to fill their heads with
need and truth, paths born for youth and their search
for never and nothing and forever and something
for wounds that cripple
or the itch of love, all, none
Never
a grand madness that feeds
into a spiraling pinch, them, never full
Forever.

Separate; Together

We are separate
ideal droplets of rain never meeting but the same
but the same

We are connected minus the frame
holding it together in opposing names
think it strange

Sit on the edge of the bed
watch my world turn around
Leaving a little piece to find
A little piece of me behind

We are separate
complex modules made to fit, flip and click
flip and click

We are connected minus the frame
holding it together in opposing names
think it strange

Sit on the edge instead
turning my world upside down
Leaving a little piece to find
A little piece of me behind

Knowledge Is Wasted On Fools

They are all hollow, empty creatures, blind, their ragged intellect unkempt, misused, treading through the old world with its red-faced belligerence. Seems they walked ashamed then, and I am forced to confront the dead essence of what I hoped to avoid. Why do they ignore the signs? These are signs of tears, of blood, that sit high and noticeable but might as well be removed, for knowledge is wasted on fools.

It's as if their heads are vacant buildings that harbor dissidents and disease, rats and filth, but outwardly proclaim, "ROOMS for RENT: CHEAP!!!"

My mind is restless, caring naught for gain but glory, so I am lost in my own inner rebellion- good and evil clawing at my sternum. Still I am not empty, my honor is gold, and I realize the world holds nothing of the true substance anymore, emptied of its most promising days- or maybe those days are still on order.

Why is it that faith holds no meaning anymore? Are we really that empty, still, that we search for outward impressions instead of turning the eye to the inner? Is God dead in the eyes of men? I question that, because I read bits of "Thus Spoke Zarathustra" and the author's proclamation of "God's death" seemed to be a theme that echoes through this country. There is nothing sacred. We fall victim to the wiles of the devil, caught in his distractions, yet we must not make them our focus and backslide down the path to ruin.