Artifacts of a Life Once Lived

God, Is it proper to approach you first with a heavy heart? Or rather should I come confessing your goodness and love and holiness even if I don't feel like it? When I come with such a desperate heaviness it is hard to confess with my lips what I know to be true of you in my heart. I have read about your every-day-new-mercy, but I have also read your servant David and have seen how you accepted his groanings when he lay on the floor in despair over the heaviness in his soul. From where my heaviness arises I cannot with full confidence say, though I know my sin and its subsequent guilt are ever-present before my eyes. Though I rest in your forgiveness I tremble when I think of my hearts willful disobedience to what is righteous, to what pertains to wholeness. I know my heart and its vileness and evil, I know what hides in the shadows from the eyes of my friends. But here is my despair: that I yearn yet I do not know what for. There is a strange and dark cloud alive over me with a mi

Went to Christ Church last night with Ms. Scheer to observe the Order of Compline . I was doing morning reading in Acts and came across the a verse where the Christians gathered in devotion to their faith. Last night was a gathering of the devoted to hear the Scriptures put to beautiful sacred music. It's a welcomed change from "Beautiful One" which we sing three times every Sunday twenty-five times through.

The Bible Believer's Bible: by yours truly, Peter Ruckman www.biblebelievers.com

Here is a brief report of life: So far the time back in Rochester has been stimulating. The summer prior to the start of the school year was a welcomed break from the annoying monotony of working 9-5 at some pointless job so I can pay the rent bill at the end of the month. Don't get me wrong, I am thankful for the job and how it provided what was necessary, but nonetheless my feeling of self-worth while working was hovering just above one. Did I mention the scale was out of one hundred? I definitely don't miss that silliness, but the time spent with friends is irreplaceable. People ask me, "Do you miss Dallas?" I always so no, because I don't. I don't miss sitting in traffic on 75 and I don't miss the yuppiness of people and the shallowness of affluent American culture. Any way, I don't miss Dallas, but I always say I miss my friends. I do. But alas, life is train, and we have to get off when we reach our platform. I am certainly glad we got to ride in

In 140 characters or less: You may not realize what we're doing to ourselves, but we're sound-biting our selves to our own inevitable starvation of thought.