Today's word

passim \PASS-im\ - here and there

You'll find words I've newly found or rediscovered sic passim here; this is one of the former.

Today's word

logy \LOH-ghee\ - marked by sluggishness and lack of vitality : groggy

Here is one that I knew (okay, was pretty sure) was a word, but when I (fairly recently) went to use it I was uncertain of myself, wasn't where I could look it up, and ended up substituting something like "lethargic" or "sluggish" for it.

An older poem

This poem is at least six years old, perhaps more (though this particular edit is mostly from summer of '09, with a couple fresh tweaks). I'd lost it until now because it was in an encrypted WordPerfect file that I had no way of opening until recently.  The darkest parts of it aren't usually applicable anymore, thanks to God and those who love me.


Confession
concluding with An unworthy sinner's prayer 

Across the continent and half an ocean
we met briefly, heart to heart, pain to pain.
Mistook, did I, compassion for emotion,
and clung to that which wasn't mine to gain.
You, recognizing that I'd lost my compass,
broke off the bond I'd wildly misconstrued.
Your comprehension of my life encompassed
the one who'd matter when I came unglued.

In old days they'd declare a nervous breakdown
when people hurt the ones who matter most,
but I lack such an alibi to put down
this railing against decency long lost.
Instead, I stand convicted of abusing
the trust of all who viewed me with respect.
At least I'm past unconsciously accusing,
unrecognized, deeply crushing regret.

I wish that you knew how I scarred my loved ones
with actions I can't utter in the light.
I doubt you'd benefit from such a summons;
be glad that you have put me far from sight.
I never will again look to your friendship
to take the place of her I finally love.
I've come to find within her treasured kinship
the partner of my life sent from above.

The time and tide have turned in ways I never
could have guessed would ever come to pass,
for some "for worses" stigmatize forever,
so I've stopped hoping your regard might last.
If you anticipated my great falling,
or sought to rectify my mental state,
please know that you had no hope of forestalling,
no way you could have ever changed my fate.

I grapple to believe an Advent's coming
that brings redemption e'en to such as me.
Self judgment is the beat my heart keeps drumming;
with millstone I've been cast into the sea.
No matter how well I know that forgiving
is why Christ came to earth, our souls to save,
I struggle to accept such cause for living.
Oh, how I long to occupy my grave.

I'll ne'er be able to unlade this disgrace,
though some might offer respite from the load.
'Tis mine to carry forward in the face of
whatever trials await along my road.
Imagining that your heart would fain reach out -
your faculty for love, exceptional -
instead my tortured soul just whispers out from
within this thinly veiled confessional.

Most likely, you'd advise me to seek refuge
from sources well equipped to salve my shame.
Indeed, two stints of such aid proved to be huge
in bringing self esteem back to my name.
Two decades worth of others' condemnation
of heinous crimes as I did perpetrate,
have reinforced my self-excoriation
for acts which good folk all abominate.

But worry not, for yet I find the Way to
take shelter from this storm of self hatred:
you helped restore me to the one who breaks through,
whose love anoints my undeserving head.
Now her acceptance and care keep me going
when I would rather give in to my curse
and drink my father's draught; I refuse, knowing
that yielding to despair would hurt them worse.

And so I sing this ballad never ending
in longing for an answer to my sin
that proves, in practice, capable of mending
a heart so utterly rent from within.
I give love, and as much as I am able,
I welcome merciful acceptance shared,
whilst knowing there will never be another
to whom my inner being I have bared.

I pray upon your fam'ly ev'ry blessing;
that perfect Providence and Grace abound -
I'm sure that God is to your home addressing
those priceless gifts of love that will astound -
and, just perhaps, if it can be, all learn from
the lessons other people's wounds impart;
may you, and those you love, not doubt nor turn from
the One who knows how best to tend each heart.

Today's word

rutilant \ROO-tuh-lunt\ - having a reddish glow

And in an almost complete reversal from yesterday, I knew all of the related words in today's write-up without knowing the actual WOTD.

Change one word. Please.

And when upon the cross He died
the wrath of God was satisfied. - Stuart Townsend, In Christ Alone

This is a great song, with which I have one quibble. Let's understand from the outset: I believe in the substitutional atonement. I'm just not sure that I believe the same things about it that other people who believe in the substitutional atonement do.

So when I hear people say things like "Jesus had to die to satisfy God's anger over our sin," I cringe. Maybe I'm wrong about this and misunderstand the nature of God. Certainly it's true that God is beyond our full comprehension. But I think that we'll inevitably misunderstand the motivation behind the historical blood sacrifice as atonement for sin so long as we insist on interpreting it according to how it was understood by those who lived in sacrificial times. Yes, Jesus did take the place that we deserve because of our sin, but to attribute that place as being due to the wrath of God represents yet another way in which we apply our own motivations to God.

When we sin, God doesn't get so angry at us that the only way to satisfy it for someone to pay with their lives; rather, I think that God gets angry for us, on our behalf as well as for the sake of those we've hurt, with a lamentation over what we have done that we too rarely enter into for ourselves.

Oh, I'm again falling short of conveying what is in my mind.

I believe that, when we die, we will see each thought and act of our lives as God sees them, and we will be deeply ashamed, knowing to the depths of our soul that we are not fit to enter into God's perfect presence. At that time, Jesus will remind us that he has given himself in our place, and welcome us home.

If I don't believe, exactly, that Jesus died to fulfill the ancient covenant and satisfy God's wrath, what do I believe? I think it's possible that God established the ancient covenant so that we would have the slightest hope of recognizing Jesus' fulfillment of it and responding to the love God has shown! What difference would the crucifixion of one man make for us if we were unable to recognize him as God's own Son fulfilling all that we know and that remains hidden?

There is so much more to be said about what Jesus has done for us that I should probably spend the rest of my life writing about this and nothing else. But to come back to the thought that prompted this post: I wouldn't feel that I must remain silent on this one line of this song that I otherwise love if it instead indicated that the plan of God was satisfied.

For I am His and He is mine
Bought with the precious blood of Christ

Today's words

Today's WOTD was quite familiar, but several related words were new:

afflatus \ə-ˈflā-təs, a-\ - a divine imparting of knowledge or power :  inspiration

insufflation \ˌin(t)-sə-ˈflā-shən, in-ˌsə-ˈflā-\ - an act or the action of blowing on, into, or in: as  a) a Christian ceremonial rite of exorcism performed by breathing on a person  b)  the act of blowing something (as a gas, powder, or vapor) into a body cavity

¹flageolet \ˌfla-jə-ˈlet, -ˈlā\ - a small fipple flute resembling the treble recorder

Fishers of men

Sorry, we cannot help you. 
We have no time for journeys. 
We are fishermen!
Journeys are just for dreamers, 
and dreamers do not catch fish, 
they just catch trouble, friend, 
and meet an ugly end! - Marty Haugen, The Song of Mark

I was a little disappointed that the call of the disciples was ignored today in lieu of discussing the kingdom of heaven. But not much. I'd think you could talk about both, right?

Zebulun and Naphtali . . . the people who walked in darkness have seen a great light. Fishermen, toiling daily for their sustenance, might not have considered whether they should ever hope for a greater plan. We tend to consider labor as drudgery rather than a gift from God to us; when it is the latter, whatever darkness might otherwise mark our daily efforts (in our seemingly distant outposts) is dispersed by the light of the greater purpose which calls us to them. Then we find that the kingdom of heaven is indeed at hand for us.

This is true for us even when our greatest labor is to live as we are called.