Cascade

          "For the word of God is living and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing even to the division of soul and spirit, and of joints and marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart. And there is no creature hidden from his sight, but all things are naked and open to the eyes of him to whom we must give account."  Hebrews 4: 12 and 13



       There is a cascading effect that occurs, pretty much all the while I'm awake, although typically stronger in the early morning; a cascade of thought that spills out and flows over my shoulders and down through my arms and is supposed to exit my hand, specifically my right hand and ideally through a pen.
 
       This doesn't always happen.

       Too often my hands are off doing something else; usually something I feel is more important, and sometimes things they ought not to be doing. I imagine how it would be if my thoughts were colored and visible; giggling and glowing, like little children, twinkling with excitement at the prospect of becoming immortal. Because that's the goal of thought, you know; to be remembered. They need to be captured and inscribed somewhere and passed on somehow until they become entwined in other's imagination.

       It's the perfect storm; this proper alignment of flowing thought and free time and ready hands and a functioning pen that I seek, and find mostly in the early a.m. In this respect I am selfish, coveting my time to do this; thinking and writing helps me figure things out. 

       Truth be known, we're all wanna-be authors; we all want our platform and 15 minutes (or more) of fame; we all want to be heard (and liked). I personally want to shake up your thought and, like a farmer, plant and spread a bit of mine around (kinda like manure) and have you mull it over.

       I really feel the written word is the best way to go about this. I have a lot to say; it would be impossible for me to tell and for you to hear it all at once. With a book, you can take as much of me as you'd like, then push me away when you've had enough. I've already done my part; all you need to do is reach in and stir it up now and again.

       But who really cares about thought, my thoughts in particular; aren't there more important things to consider? Well, isn't that thought? And where do all things: ideas, projects, proposals, business deals, etc; decisions good or bad on anything come from? They all begin with a thought. Before any plan or idea can be put to paper, it first must be conjured up in the mind; thus thought is important.

       And here I am, thinking about thought.

       The Holy Scriptures, by their very nature, are full of wonderful, unusual thought; some inviting, some convicting, but always descriptive and real. In the Psalms, David speaks of, "...the beauties of holiness from the womb of the dawn." It's surreal thought such as this that makes me want to cry. I've read the Word a bit in the past and now daily and it never disappoints. The more I read the more I want to read. And now it's not just reading. It's deep reading, studying, cross-references and asking questions; writing about it seems to solidify notions, and aren't notions the beginning of thought?

       As usual, when I'm in a contemplative mood, I wander outside to check on "my" stars; all in order. The night sky is clear and I realize I have an unimpeded view of the heavens; I feel as if I'm standing on the edge of it all. Air flows like water and encapsulates my body. I can feel the cold of the distant stars; the planets; the greater cosmos, plunging across through millions and billions of space/time units to this small, seemingly insignificant planet, the only place we know of with such a fine example of vigorous life.

        Why do we think?  And from where do we get our thought? It surely has to do with our consciousness; our life experiences. We're aware; of ourselves but also of Something that defies comprehension. Stand outside when it's dark and clear. Look up; count the stars. How many are there? How did they get there? Where is there and how far away is it? How much further does it go? What are space and time? Why are space and time space and time? Exactly how did they obtain these qualities and how and why are they sustained? I find the classroom setting and textbook answers incomparable to the natural Teacher.

       The modern world seems to argue and fret over answers and reasons and solutions for and to this and that and rarely stops to consider that God just might be real. And since He made all this, there is a reason for things being the way they are. Just because we don't understand some things does not diminish the truth; and indeed, God exists outside of our admission. 

       You're beginning to see why you'll need to push me away at times and why I write. In the end, it helps me to realize that His thoughts are not my thoughts; His ways are not my ways. Don't be so quick to believe we know it all.

       Now, where's my pen?


       Quotation from Psalm 110

   Scott A. Lewis, Wallace, Idaho.