Life and Death Contradictions

It's written:

For Christ is not entered into the holy places made with hands, which are the figures of the true; but into heaven itself, now to appear in the presence of God for us: Nor yet that he should offer himself often, as the high priest entereth into the holy place every year with blood of others; For then must he often have suffered since the foundation of the world: but now once in the end of the world hath he appeared to put away sin by the sacrifice of himself. And as it is appointed unto men once to die, but after this the judgment: So Christ was once offered to bear the sins of many; and unto them that look for him shall he appear the second time without sin unto salvation. (Hebrews 9:24-28)

Here, I run into a particular contradiction. Or what merely seems a contradiction, considering the standard interpretations on the passage. But we know the truth cannot contradict itself. Scripture doesn't conflict with scripture.

The above passage says "once to die". Yet, Jesus identified John the Baptist as the reincarnation of Elijah.

Verily I say unto you, Among them that are born of women there hath not risen a greater than John the Baptist: notwithstanding he that is least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he. And from the days of John the Baptist until now the kingdom of heaven suffereth violence, and the violent take it by force. For all the prophets and the law prophesied until John. And if ye will receive it, this is Elias, which was for to come. He that hath ears to hear, let him hear. (Matthew 11:11-15)

Later in Matthew's gospel Jesus addresses the matter again, following the event at the Mount of Transfiguration.

And after six days Jesus taketh Peter, James, and John his brother, and bringeth them up into an high mountain apart, And was transfigured before them: and his face did shine as the sun, and his raiment was white as the light. And, behold , there appeared unto them Moses and Elias talking with him. Then answered Peter, and said unto Jesus, Lord, it is good for us to be here: if thou wilt, let us make here three tabernacles; one for thee, and one for Moses, and one for Elias. While he yet spake, behold, a bright cloud overshadowed them: and behold a voice out of the cloud, which said, This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased; hear ye him. And when the disciples heard it, they fell on their face, and were sore afraid. And Jesus came and touched them, and said, Arise, and be not afraid. And when they had lifted up their eyes, they saw no man, save Jesus only. And as they came down from the mountain, Jesus charged them, saying, Tell the vision to no man, until the Son of man be risen again from the dead. And his disciples asked him, saying, Why then say the scribes that Elias must first come? And Jesus answered and said unto them, Elias truly shall first come, and restore all things. But I say unto you, That Elias is come already, and they knew him not, but have done unto him whatsoever they listed. Likewise shall also the Son of man suffer of them. Then the disciples understood that he spake unto them of John the Baptist. (Matthew 17:1-13)

Then, there are the various accounts and references to those who were raised from the dead. Obviously if you were dead, then brought back to life, this is not a matter of only dying once.
The most often spoke of incident being Lazarus who had been dead for days.

Yet another consideration would be to those few who were taking into heaven without having experienced death. Did they die at all?

I'm not saying I believe in reincarnation. It wouldn't make sense to me that every soul should live again and again. And I certainly don't agree with many new-age philosophers who claim that we continue to come back to live another life until we somehow "get it right." That's salvation by works and if that were the case - if we have to live again and again until we somehow perfect ourselves, then Jesus' sacrifice was of no effect and Grace and Mercy meaningless.

I'm not sure what to make of this contradiction. Or, as I said, what seems a contradiction. There must be more to the matter. Perhaps I'll not find a solid answer in this lifetime, or until I, at last, see clearly but it's something I ponder from time to time.

Of course, for the Elect - for the Children of God - there is another lifetime. But second or third death? Another earthly life? I just can't say that I know, one way or another.

© Rachelle

"Fly From Heaven"
Toad the Wet Sprocket

Lyrics:
Paul is making me nervous
Paul is making me scared
Walk into this room and swaggers
Like hes gods own messenger
Changed the name of my brother
Changed the things that he said
Says he speaks to him
But he never even knew the man
But Id give my life for him

Like water through my hands
Youd give him any ending
But if hes all you say
Would he fly from heaven
To this world again
To this world again

Take whatever youre needing
Take whatever you can
We are broken from within
Run to another land

Like water through my hands
Or is it just beginning
But if hes all you say
Would he fly from heaven
To this world again
To this world again

They took my brother
They ripped him from me
To twist his words as they did his body
Denied his family
Denied his beauty
To lie him down at the feet
Of those he couldnt save
Couldnt save, couldnt save

Will it be the end
Or is he still ascending
But if hes all you say
Would he fly from heaven
To this world again
To this world again

If I Were a Cat

If I could, I would tell you the story. I would tell you our story. But with every attempt, it escapes my grasp like water - like sand.

Maybe it is my own doing. I clutch too tightly, or perhaps not tightly enough. Either way I am left empty handed and unable, regardless of how willing. Yet, I ask, am I willing? Fear is a terrible and awsome foe. A foe my small self cannot conquer.

I am without a weapon with which to slay the giant. There is no safety net beneath me.

I am not a cat, that I can quickly right myself, before hitting the ground. I am rather more like the bird, with it's wings in splints, confined to solid land instead of the billows and breezes that seem more like home.

I could tell you our story, if I could only repair the wing or build a net or slay the giant or become a cat.

© Rachelle LeCount

"The Story"
Brandi Carlile



Lyrics:

All of these lines across my face
Tell you the story of who I am
So many stories of where I've been
And how I got to where I am
But these stories don't mean anything
When you've got no one to tell them to
It's true...I was made for you

I climbed across the mountain tops
Swam all across the ocean blue
I crossed all the lines and I broke all the rules
But baby I broke them all for you
Because even when I was flat broke
You made me feel like a million bucks
Yeah you do and I was made for you

You see the smile that's on my mouth
Is hiding the words that don't come out
And all of my friends who think that I'm blessed
They don't know my head is a mess
No, they don't know who I really am
And they don't know what I've been through like you do
And I was made for you...

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I Once Was a Girl

Time & Space

Space and time are a function of mass (matter). If there were no particles in our universe that had the characteristics of matter, there would be no space-time.

As creatures composed of matter and trapped in a space-time continuum, limited to this universe, it would seem that the only truths that we might discover are limited as well, and our perspective, subject to the physics of matter. Beyond this we have no knowledge except that which is given to us by our Father who is God.

Many do not accept the existence of God and deride such belief as naive and insecure. But, in truth, they have limited their horizons with self-generated clouds, born of their blind skepticism.

Yes, we should be observer of data. Yet, to declare spiritual data to be false because it originates from a source that we cannot measure with our material faculties is reckless.

"I have seen the business that God has given to the sons of men to be busy with. He has made everything beautiful in its time; also he has put eternity into man's mind, yet so that he cannot find out what God has done from the beginning to the end."

"He who made the Pleiades and Orion, who turns blackness into dawn and darkens day into night, who calls for the waters of the sea and pours them out over the face of the land -- the LORD is his name."

(the above is a paraphrase from something I read this morning, except scriptural quotes)

Roses & Linen

There are roses in the snow, like wrinkles in time. I contemplate. I turn them around in my mind and take in their fragrance, as if they hold the secret of deliverance.

Petals, like droplets of red and melancholy pink lay quiet on tufts of linen. Each fold and shadow whispers the invitation to crawl beneath and be transported to another place, far from here.

© Rachelle


"Terminal Frost"
by Pink Floyd
(w/New Machine 1&2)

Toward Beginning

At first, there is only what she knows as home. Perhaps not a locality but rather a physicality. A place where she feels comfortable because it is familiar. It doesn't matter if it is not a safe place. It only matters that she feels connected to the people, surroundings and the land. It has been her Known.

Then there comes the awakening. A dawn - the rising of the sun - that reveals an unexpected world. She becomes aware of the new and mysterious. She has outgrown her old world. Ideas and concepts and emotional patterns, once familiar, seem awkward. They no longer fit. And though it is with some apprehension, she leaves this old place. It is time to pass through the door, to the outside, toward her Beginning.

© Rachelle


And that, knowing the time, that now it is high time to awake out of sleep: for now is our salvation nearer than when we believed. - Romans 13:11


"The Awakening"
Sara Groves




Lyrics:
Dress down your pretty faith. Give me something real.
Leave out the thee and thou and speak to me now.
Speak to my pain and confusion.
Speak through my fears and my pride.
Speak to the part of me that knows I'm something deep down inside.

I know that I am not perfect, but compare me to most,
In a world of hurt and a world of anger I think I'm holding my own.
And I know that you said there is more to life.
And I know I am not satisfied.
But there are mornings I wake up and I'm just thankful to be alive.

I've known now, for quite a while, that I am not whole.
I've remembered the body and the mind,
But disected my soul.
Now something inside is awakening,
Like a dream I once had and forgot.
And it's something I'm scared of
And something I don't want to stop.

And I woke up this morning and realized that Jesus is not a portait.
Where stained glass windows or hymns or the tradition that surrounds us.
And I thought it would be hard to believe in
But it's not hard at all.
To believe I've sinned and fallen short of the Glory of God.

And He's not asking me to change in my joy for martyrdom
He's asking to take my place.
To stand in the gap that I have formed
With His real, and His sweet, and His real amazing grace.
And it's not just a sign or a sacrament.
It's not just a metaphor for love.
The blood is real and it's not just a sybol of your faith.

So leave out the thee and thou and speak now.

And Yet...

Half a hope realized
Half a dream come true
Half a promise fulfilled

And yet...

Less than my heart desires
Less than the fullness I've sought
Less than a lifetime of wishes

And yet...

More than I'm entitlted to
More than I'd grown to expect
More than my heart can contain

And yet...


© Rachelle

"Tunnel Of Love"
Bruce Springsteen



Lyrics:

Fat man sitting on a little stool
Takes the money from my hand while his eyes take a walk all over you
Hands me the ticket smiles and whispers good luck
Cuddle up angel cuddle up my little dove
We'll ride down baby into this tunnel of love

I can feel the soft silk of your blouse
And them soft thrills in our little fun house
Then the lights go out and it's just the three of us
You me and all that stuff we're so scared of
Gotta ride down baby into this tunnel of love

There's a crazy mirror showing us both in 5-d
I'm laughing at you you're laughing at me
There's a room of shadows that gets so dark brother
It's easy for two people to lose each other in this tunnel of love

It ought to be easy ought to be simple enough
Man meets woman and they fall in love
But the house is haunted and the ride gets rough
And you've got to learn to live with what you can't rise above
if you want to ride on down in through this tunnel of love

Pegs and Holes

People talk about square pegs trying to fit themselves into round holes, as if it's the peg that is oddly shaped and should conform itself to fit the hole. To me, it seems more like it's the hole that's square and the peg round. And there's no sign of the peg's willingness or ability to be shaped otherwise. So, it is what it is.

© Rachelle

Other posts:
Folds of Eternity
Glimpses of Providence


"Prince Of Darkness"
Indigo Girls



Lyrics:
My place is of the sun and this place is of the dark
I do not feel the romance I do not catch the spark
I don't know when I noticed life was life at my expense
The words of my heart lined up like prisoners on a fence
The dreams came in like needy children tugging at my sleeve
I said I have no way of feeding you, so leave
But there was a time I asked my father for a dollar
And he gave it a ten dollar raise
When I needed my mother and I called her
She stayed with me for days
And now someone's on the telephone, desperate in his pain
Someone's on the bathroom floor doing her cocaine
Someone's got his finger on the button in some room
No one can convince me we aren't gluttons for our doom
But I tried to make this place my place
I asked for Providence to smile upon me with his sweet face
But I'll tell you
My place is of the sun and this place is of the dark
I do not feel the romance I do not catch the spark
My place is of the sun and this place is of the dark
(By grace, my sight grows stronger and I will not
be a pawn for the Prince of Darkness any longer)
Maybe there's no haven in this world for tender age
My heart beat like the wings of wild birds in a cage
My greatest hope my greatest cause to grieve
And my heart flew from its cage and it bled upon my sleeve
The cries of passion were like wounds that needed healing
I couldn't hear them for the thunder
I was half the naked distance between hell and heaven's ceiling
And he almost pulled me under
Now someone's on the telephone desperate in his pain
Someone's on the bathroom floor doing her cocaine
Someone's got his finger on the button in some room
No one can convince me we aren't gluttons for our doom
I tried to make this place my place
I asked for Providence to smile upon me with his sweet face
But I'll tell you
My place is of the sun and this place is of the dark
I do not feel the romance I do not catch of spark
My place is of the sun and this place is of the dark
(By grace my sight grows stronger, grows stronger)
I do not feel the romance I do not catch the spark
(And I will not be a pawn for the Prince of Darkness any longer)

Wolf Moon

Last night's sky displayed the largest, brightest full moon of this year. Native Indians referred to this as The Wolf Moon. It's also been called or Old Moon or Moon After Yule.

And God said, Let there be lights in the firmament of the heaven to divide the day from the night; and let them be for signs, and for seasons, and for days, and years: And let them be for lights in the firmament of the heaven to give light upon the earth: and it was so. [Genesis 1:14-15]

Seek him that maketh the seven stars and Orion, and turneth the shadow of death into the morning, and maketh the day dark with night: that calleth for the waters of the sea, and poureth them out upon the face of the earth: The LORD is his name [Amos 5:8]

When I consider thy heavens, the work of thy fingers, the moon and the stars, which thou hast ordained ; What is man, that thou art mindful of him? and the son of man, that thou visitest him? [Psalm 8:3-4]

And great earthquakes shall be in divers places, and famines, and pestilences; and fearful sights and great signs shall there be from heaven. [Luke 21:11]

And I will shew wonders in heaven above, and signs in the earth beneath; blood, and fire, and vapour of smoke: [Acts 2:19]

The Five Senses

Love has nothing to do with the five senses and the six directions: Its goal is only to experience the attraction exerted by the Beloved. Afterwards, perhaps, permission will come from God. The secrets that ought to be told will be told with an eloquence nearer to the understanding than these subtle confusing allusions. The secret is partner with none but the knower of the secret. in the skeptic's ear the secret is no secret at all.

Written by Jalal Al-Din Rumi


"Not Too Much To Ask"
Mary Chapin Carpenter

"On and On"

Wilco



On and on and on we'll stay together yeah
On and on and on we'll be together yeah
You and I will try to stay together yeah
On and on and on we'll be together yeah

Please don't cry we're designed to die
Don't deny what's inside
On and on and on we'll stay together yeah
On and on and on
On and on and on

One day we'll disappear together in a dream
However short or long our lives are going to be
I will live in you or you will live in me
Until we disappear together in a dream

Please don't cry we're designed to die
You can't deny even the gentlest tide
On and on and on we'll be together yeah
On and on and on
On and on and on
We're going to try

Please don't cry
This world of words and meanings makes you feel
outside
Something that you feel already
deep inside
You've denied
Go ahead and cry

On and on and on we'll stay together yeah
On and on and on
On and on and on

You and I will stay together yeah

Polishing

What wonderful things God has called us. Sons and Daughters, Friends, Heirs, Jewels. Jewels in a crown of gold, destined to encircle the head where upon once laid a wreath of thorns.

But the time is not yet come. The jewels are still rough stones. Stones that must be cut and shaped and polished, until they are brilliant and perfect.

Who are we to protest the ways in which we are polished and fitted to that crown, or whether we be Emerald or Ruby?


© Rachelle

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All My Life

I often wonder if I lived another lifetime. Perhaps, ever since, I have tried to find my way back. Though it would not appropriately be said back but rather forward, to a point at which whatever it was that went wrong might be righted or completed. As if it represents a fulfilling of a promise previously thwarted by that darkness that seems always to wish the preventing of such things as love and joy and innocent desire.

At times I've thought I could hear him, from a distance, directing me to move this way or that, so that I might return to him or meet him on the path just ahead. Then the voice fades and seems to only echo off the canyon walls around me, making it all the more difficult to determine which direction I should take.

This feeling seems to reach back even to the foundation of the earth and as far ahead as eternity. But I am not in those places. I am here. I am now. It is today that this longing exists, and I am here in a form that fades day by day. I'm left to wonder and imagine the sparkle of an eye and whether time has taken too great a toll.

Yet, inwardly, I am still as I was then. In my mind's eyes I see only a girl skipping down sidewalks made from the light of stars with no worry of yesterday or tomorrow.

When was that other time? Was it behind or is it still forward? Did it pass and is lost forever? Or is it further along yet? These are questions I can't presently answer. For now, I suppose there is little to do but wait and hope to hear from which direction he is calling - if he is calling.

Has he travel too far ahead or stayed behind? Or it is I who advances too rapidly? With no sights or sounds to guide me, my wandering seems aimless. Am I standing at some cosmic fork in the road attempting to discern which way to turn or where to follow - how to follow?

In reality, to say that I often wonder if I lived another lifetime, or that I question who or what I was or what I will be, is less than true. Somewhere, deeply and inwardly, it is not so much a matter of questioning as it is a matter of accepting the awareness.

© Rachelle

Sia - "Not a Day too Soon"



Lyrics:
Pick me up in your arms
Carry me away from harm
You're never gonna put me down
I know you're just one good man
You'll tire before we see land
You're never gonna put me down

Oh I've been running all my life
I ran away, I ran away from good
Yeah I've been waiting all my life
You're not a day you're not day too soon

Honey I will stitch you
Darling I will fit you in my heart
Honey I will meet you
Darling I will keep you in my heart

You'll risk all this for just a kiss
I promise I will not resist
Promise you won't hold me down
And when we reach a good place
Let's be sure to leave no trace
Promise they won't track us down

Now I've been running all my life
I ran away, I ran away from good
Yeah, I've been waiting all my life
You're not a day, you're not a day too soon

Honey I will stitch you
Darling I will feel you in my heart
Honey I will meet you
Darling I will keep you in my heart

I've been running all my life
I ran away, I ran away from good
Yeah I've been waiting all my life
You're not a day, you're not a day too soon

Oh honey I will stitch you
Darling I will feel you in my heart
Honey I will meet you
Darling I will keep you in my heart

To He Who is The One

And so she says to He who is The One:

Where shall I find the origin of my thoughts? Why does my heart seem to beat only to the rhythm of yours?

What kind of love would bring me so close to a promise, only to hold the fulfilling of itself just beyond my reach, and render your voice so often faint?

Yet I feel your closeness. So close I nearly feel your breath.

Still, I ask, do I imagine this to be so, or do I in truth recognize the place from where I have come?

© Rachelle

Why?

I wonder...

Why did God pick a rainbow to represent His promise?
He could have chosen anything - Any symbol, or no symbol at all.

Why is there so much symbolism? Couldn't He have been more straight forward? More precise or exact? Just spell it out?

Well. Anyhow. Just a thought.

Little Raindancers

Roused Dreamers

Sleepers awaken
Born of slumberous wombs
As pearls they are
Hidden in the fields
Whisper "We are here"

Watchers waiting
For he who purchased their glory
And fitting made them
To be swept up in golden nets
Proclaim "We are sent"

Stillness know they
That yeild to the crushing
Like grapes into wine
Like stones into diamonds
Sing "We are chosen"

Roused dreamers
Ransomed treasures, immortal,
Entreating the master
That the day be near
Cry "We are ready"

© Rachelle
(previously posted)

Rain Dancers

Little raindancers
Spin on rising billows
From ground to sky
You lift yourselves
Ride over painted arches
And answer not the call
Of this parched ground
For it is not your home
Here, arrayed in bright feathers
And silent rattles
Swaying in silk sashes
You recite ancient litanies
Of misty wishes
Gliding past perilous ledges
Shouting at thunder
For the sake of one name
To stop the trembling
For it is no mystery
That this is not your home

© Rachelle

Somewhat inspired by "Your Word is Your Wand" by Florence Scovel Shinn
Elements Affirmation. Source.

Man is made in God's likeness and image (Imagination) and is given power and dominion over all created things.

He has the power to "rebuke the winds and the waves," check floods or bring rain when it is needed.

There is a tribe of American Indians who live in the desert country and depend on the power of prayer only, to bring rain to water their crops.

They have a rain dance, which is a form of prayer, but no chief is allowed to take part who has any fear.

They give exhibitions of courage before they are admitted to the ceremonies.

A woman, who was an eye-witness, told me that out of a blue sky came a deluge of rain; the sun still shining.

Joe Bonamassa
When She Dances

Naming a Thing

I have come to the conclusion that naming a thing perhaps lessens it's value. Particularly if your a woman. After all, it was Adam that was given the task in the very beginning, in the Garden of Eden.

Ironically, it's the woman who is said to have the greater command of language. Still, I think, the act of labeling a thing somehow presents too solid an image.

Words, to me, seem defiant. Perhaps even deviant, in some respect. And surely they are elusive. They are necessary tools of human communication, but in reality they are only symbols of a thing, rather than the thing itself.

I could say "Look, there is a lake." But what have I said? I might rather have pointed out the thousands of sparkling reflections of sunlight, or the splashing sounds of a log as it bounces on the surface. While a man possibly has envisioned a source of an evening's meal, or the elementary composition of liquids. He might say "No. This is too small. It is, rather, a pond." While I have thoughts of frogs perched on lilipads.

In calling it a lake, I have provided too narrow a definition. Then, again, perhaps too broad. I might more wisely have pointed out the sounds or the tiny splashes or twinkling reflections. I'd more wisely referred to the way in which the water sways or the scent of bedding trout in the air.

Now, I think I should refrain from calling it a lake again.

© Rachelle


Now... the song for today...

"Everything In Its Own Time"
The Indigo Girls




remember everything i told you
keep it in your heart like a stone
and when the winds have blown things round and back again
what was once your pain will be your home

all around the table the white haired men have gathered
spilling their sons' blood like table wine
(spilling their sons' blood)
remember everything i told you
everything in its own time

the music whispers you in urgency
hold fast to that languageless connection
a thread of known that was unknown and unseen seen
dangling from inside the fifth direction
(dangling from inside the fifth direction)

boys around the table are mapping out there strategies
kings all of mountains one day dust
a lesson learned a loving god and things in their own time
in nothing more do i trust

we own nothing
nothing is ours
not even love so fierce it burns like baby stars
but this poverty is our greatest gift
(nothing is ours)
the weightlessness of us as things around begin to shift
(the weightlessness as things begin to shift)

remember everything i told you
(remember everything i told you)
keep it in your heart like a stone
(keep it in your heart like a stone)
and when the winds have blown things round and back again
(when the winds have blown things round)
what was once your pain will be your home

everything in its own time
everything in its own time


From their SITE

Repeats

The Eternal Promise

The beauty of the beloved awaits in the charmed stillness and knowledge of his promise. For all it's disappointments and trials, hope shall not be dissolved. For it was sown by the spirit which breathed even before the lungs were shaped.

As we move in this limited form, amidst the few grand things of earth, he ceaselessly provides us that taste of a mercy and a grace by which all tears will end and youth be restored and stretched in infinite circles.The soul does beseech him, as surely as with clasped hands or tightened eye on bended knee. Though there is no need for such things. He has heard his children.

The promise, still distant, is brought to our remembrance in visions and stirrings that, while unmeasured, are exacted according to all good purposes. Glimpses of splendor magnified a thousand times. We alone, who are his, will hear his assurance - the eternal promise.

© Rachelle



Sons and daughters of the most high, may his love and mercy be yet a cover unto you, until the time has come when you rest your heads 'gainst the bosom of your redeemer. For he has given all for you, by his sweat and blood.

For your sake he contains his wrath, but for a time, until it will be poured out upon his enemies. And then shall you approve judgement, even over those angels.

The song of victory and of the lamb you will sing, and be adorned more beautifully than the lilies. for this were you created. For this chosen and sealed from before creation. His own. His beloved, who desire him, and for whom all things are performed.

Arise, you daughters. Cry out, you sons. Call unto the lord that he will make haste. Give account unto him who created the stars in heaven that you might have but a glimpse of the splendors that await you, when the veil shall be removed and you shall see colors more splendid than all the jewels of earth and you will walk amidst them and upon them.

His beloved, who desire him, and for whom all things are created so that he may delight in your pleasure, and you in his, forever.

© Rachelle
(rewritten from previous)

Or See:
Without Distinction
Juxtapositions
Barring the Way