But there is a great difference between Adam’s sin and God’s gracious gift. For the sin of this one man, Adam, brought death to many. But even greater is God’s wonderful grace and his gift of forgiveness to many through this other man, Jesus Christ.
-Romans 5:15
Wednesday, August 27, 2014
Wednesday, August 20, 2014
08/20/14
Atoms and molecules contain electrons. It is often useful to think of these electrons as being attached to the atoms by springs. The electrons and their attached springs have a tendency to vibrate at specific frequencies. Similar to a tuning fork or even a musical instrument, the electrons of atoms have a natural frequency at which they tend to vibrate. When a light wave with that same natural frequency impinges upon an atom, then the electrons of that atom will be set into vibrational motion. If a light wave of a given frequency strikes a material with electrons having the same vibrational frequencies, then those electrons will absorb the energy of the light wave and transform it into vibrational motion. During its vibration, the electrons interact with neighboring atoms in such a manner as to convert its vibrational energy into thermal energy. Subsequently, the light wave with that given frequency is absorbed by the object, never again to be released in the form of light. So the selective absorption of light by a particular material occurs because the selected frequency of the light wave matches the frequency at which electrons in the atoms of that material vibrate. Since different atoms and molecules have different natural frequencies of vibration, they will selectively absorb different frequencies of visible light.
Reflection and transmission of light waves occur because the frequencies of the light waves do not match the natural frequencies of vibration of the objects. When light waves of these frequencies strike an object, the electrons in the atoms of the object begin vibrating. But instead of vibrating in resonance at a large amplitude, the electrons vibrate for brief periods of time with small amplitudes of vibration; then the energy is reemitted as a light wave. If the object is transparent, then the vibrations of the electrons are passed on to neighboring atoms through the bulk of the material and reemitted on the opposite side of the object. Such frequencies of light waves are said to be transmitted. If the object is opaque, then the vibrations of the electrons are not passed from atom to atom through the bulk of the material. Rather the electrons of atoms on the material's surface vibrate for short periods of time and then reemit the energy as a reflected light wave. Such frequencies of light are said to be reflected.
The color of the objects that we see is largely due to the way those objects interact with light and ultimately reflect or transmit it to our eyes. The color of an object is not actually within the object itself. Rather, the color is in the light that shines upon it and is ultimately reflected or transmitted to our eyes. We know that the visible light spectrum consists of a range of frequencies, each of which corresponds to a specific color. When visible light strikes an object and a specific frequency becomes absorbed, that frequency of light will never make it to our eyes. Any visible light that strikes the object and becomes reflected or transmitted to our eyes will contribute to the color appearance of that object. So the color is not in the object itself, but in the light that strikes the object and ultimately reaches our eye. The only role that the object plays is that it might contain atoms capable of selectively absorbing one or more frequencies of the visible light that shine upon it. So if an object absorbs all of the frequencies of visible light except for the frequency associated with green light, then the object will appear green in the presence of ROYGBIV. And if an object absorbs all of the frequencies of visible light except for the frequency associated with blue light, then the object will appear blue in the presence of ROYGBIV.
-PhysicsClassroom.com
Color is the music light makes with creation.
Without light there is no color. In the darkness a green leaf is no longer green. We cannot see its colorless self without light but once light combines with the leaf they sing their song of green together.
Without light there is no color.
What does the world look like without light? It is dark it is colorless it is grim.
But when the light of the world enters in everything is illuminated.
It is light connecting with creation reflecting and accepting what light has to offer. As they create soundless music together. Our eyes much like our ears for music must be able to see the frequencies in which these songs are painted. We cannot hear a dog whistle just as we cannot see Ultraviolet.
It is in this perfect harmony of
light
creation
perception
that we are able to enjoy and unlock the beauty of this existence.
Without any one of these three things the music of color is lost to us.
at night the song of color rests awaiting its musician, light, to return and strum the rocks, the trees, the ocean, the animals, the birds, the flowers, the sky, the soil to begin its wonderful song of colors. Creation welcomes the light and returns its individual reflection based on the music that object can play.
Light plays the world like an orchestra using every instrument it can reach to play the notes on the color spectrum.
The symphony of light.
Dawes - When My Time Comes
Reflection and transmission of light waves occur because the frequencies of the light waves do not match the natural frequencies of vibration of the objects. When light waves of these frequencies strike an object, the electrons in the atoms of the object begin vibrating. But instead of vibrating in resonance at a large amplitude, the electrons vibrate for brief periods of time with small amplitudes of vibration; then the energy is reemitted as a light wave. If the object is transparent, then the vibrations of the electrons are passed on to neighboring atoms through the bulk of the material and reemitted on the opposite side of the object. Such frequencies of light waves are said to be transmitted. If the object is opaque, then the vibrations of the electrons are not passed from atom to atom through the bulk of the material. Rather the electrons of atoms on the material's surface vibrate for short periods of time and then reemit the energy as a reflected light wave. Such frequencies of light are said to be reflected.
The color of the objects that we see is largely due to the way those objects interact with light and ultimately reflect or transmit it to our eyes. The color of an object is not actually within the object itself. Rather, the color is in the light that shines upon it and is ultimately reflected or transmitted to our eyes. We know that the visible light spectrum consists of a range of frequencies, each of which corresponds to a specific color. When visible light strikes an object and a specific frequency becomes absorbed, that frequency of light will never make it to our eyes. Any visible light that strikes the object and becomes reflected or transmitted to our eyes will contribute to the color appearance of that object. So the color is not in the object itself, but in the light that strikes the object and ultimately reaches our eye. The only role that the object plays is that it might contain atoms capable of selectively absorbing one or more frequencies of the visible light that shine upon it. So if an object absorbs all of the frequencies of visible light except for the frequency associated with green light, then the object will appear green in the presence of ROYGBIV. And if an object absorbs all of the frequencies of visible light except for the frequency associated with blue light, then the object will appear blue in the presence of ROYGBIV.
-PhysicsClassroom.com
Color is the music light makes with creation.
Without light there is no color. In the darkness a green leaf is no longer green. We cannot see its colorless self without light but once light combines with the leaf they sing their song of green together.
Without light there is no color.
What does the world look like without light? It is dark it is colorless it is grim.
But when the light of the world enters in everything is illuminated.
It is light connecting with creation reflecting and accepting what light has to offer. As they create soundless music together. Our eyes much like our ears for music must be able to see the frequencies in which these songs are painted. We cannot hear a dog whistle just as we cannot see Ultraviolet.
It is in this perfect harmony of
light
creation
perception
that we are able to enjoy and unlock the beauty of this existence.
Without any one of these three things the music of color is lost to us.
at night the song of color rests awaiting its musician, light, to return and strum the rocks, the trees, the ocean, the animals, the birds, the flowers, the sky, the soil to begin its wonderful song of colors. Creation welcomes the light and returns its individual reflection based on the music that object can play.
Light plays the world like an orchestra using every instrument it can reach to play the notes on the color spectrum.
The symphony of light.
Dawes - When My Time Comes
Saturday, August 16, 2014
08/16/14
From Eden's bowers the full-fed rivers flow,
To guide the outcasts to the land of woe:
Our Earth one little toiling streamlet yields.
To guide the wanderers to the happy fields.
-George MacDonald
One Night - The Steel Wheels
To guide the outcasts to the land of woe:
Our Earth one little toiling streamlet yields.
To guide the wanderers to the happy fields.
-George MacDonald
One Night - The Steel Wheels
Sunday, August 10, 2014
08/10/14
From this I was partly aroused by a glimmering of white, that, through the trees on the left, vaguely crossed my vision, as I gazed upwards. But the trees again hid the object; and at the moment, some strange melodious bird took up its song, and sang, not an ordinary birdsong, with constant repetitions of the same melody, but what sounded like a welcome already overshadowed with the coming farewell. As in all sweetest music, a tinge of sadness was in every note. Nor do we know how much of the pleasures even of life we owe to the intermingled sorrows. Joy cannot unfold the deepest truths, although deepest truth must be deepest joy. Cometh white-robed Sorrow, stooping and wan, and flingeth wide the doors she may not enter. Almost we linger with Sorrow for very love.
-Phantastes A Faerie Romance Chapter X by George MacDonald
What is it to stand on top of a mountain if a helicopter dropped me of?
What is it to rest without previous strife?
What is it to drink without thirst?
To return home without first leaving?
Resurrection without death?
Forgiveness without betrayal?
Love without risk?
Freedom without fear?
Without Judas there is no salvation.
Ancient peoples found that their clothes got cleaner when they washed them at a certain point in the river. Do you know why? Because human sacrifices were once made on the hills above this river. Bodies burned, water seeped through the wooden ashes to create lye. The crucial ingredient. Once it mixed with the melted fat of the bodies, a thick white soapy discharge crept into the river. Can I see your hand please?
This is a chemical burn. It will hurt more than you have ever been burned and you will have a scar
Stay with the pain, don’t shut this out The first soap was made from the ashes of heroes, like the first monkey shot into space. Without pain, without sacrifice we would have nothing
Stop it! This is your pain. This is your burning hand its right here
No! Don’t deal with it the way those dead people do. Come On!
what you’re feeling is premature enlightenment
this is the greatest moment of your life and you’re off somewhere missing it
Listen to me. You can run water over your hand to make it worse, or, look at me. Or you can use vinegar to neutralize the burn
First you have to give up. First you have to know, not fear, know that one day you are going to die.
Its only after we’ve lost everything that we’re free to do anything.
-Fight Club
Everywhere I look in my life I see this question being asked.
We want to eliminate pain but at the cost of freedom.
That is too hefty a price.
To lose freedom is to lose life.
What is it to eliminate pain but lose your life in the process?
And what do you benefit if you gain the whole world but lose your own soul? Is anything worth more than your soul?
-Matthew 16
Without pain, without sacrifice we would have nothing.
Nor do we know how much of the pleasures even of life we owe to the intermingled sorrows.
Sea Wolf - Middle Distance Runner
-Phantastes A Faerie Romance Chapter X by George MacDonald
What is it to stand on top of a mountain if a helicopter dropped me of?
What is it to rest without previous strife?
What is it to drink without thirst?
To return home without first leaving?
Resurrection without death?
Forgiveness without betrayal?
Love without risk?
Freedom without fear?
Without Judas there is no salvation.
Ancient peoples found that their clothes got cleaner when they washed them at a certain point in the river. Do you know why? Because human sacrifices were once made on the hills above this river. Bodies burned, water seeped through the wooden ashes to create lye. The crucial ingredient. Once it mixed with the melted fat of the bodies, a thick white soapy discharge crept into the river. Can I see your hand please?
This is a chemical burn. It will hurt more than you have ever been burned and you will have a scar
Stay with the pain, don’t shut this out The first soap was made from the ashes of heroes, like the first monkey shot into space. Without pain, without sacrifice we would have nothing
Stop it! This is your pain. This is your burning hand its right here
No! Don’t deal with it the way those dead people do. Come On!
what you’re feeling is premature enlightenment
this is the greatest moment of your life and you’re off somewhere missing it
Listen to me. You can run water over your hand to make it worse, or, look at me. Or you can use vinegar to neutralize the burn
First you have to give up. First you have to know, not fear, know that one day you are going to die.
Its only after we’ve lost everything that we’re free to do anything.
-Fight Club
Everywhere I look in my life I see this question being asked.
Safe or Free?
It keeps reappearing over and over. I know I must have written on here over a hundred times about this idea but there is something about this that awakes my heart and moves my spirit. There is something to this freedom I keep searching and seeking. What does this mean? Where will it lead me? Why does this fascinate me so deeply?We want to eliminate pain but at the cost of freedom.
That is too hefty a price.
To lose freedom is to lose life.
What is it to eliminate pain but lose your life in the process?
And what do you benefit if you gain the whole world but lose your own soul? Is anything worth more than your soul?
-Matthew 16
Without pain, without sacrifice we would have nothing.
Nor do we know how much of the pleasures even of life we owe to the intermingled sorrows.
Sea Wolf - Middle Distance Runner
Wednesday, August 6, 2014
08/06/14
Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened.
― Dr. Seuss
In the walls of a forgotten part of the city.
We put it in some soil wondering what would happen.
As it grew we held hands enjoying its beauty.
The sprout turned to a tree as its roots dug deep.
Together we pulled the weeds and watered its trunk.
We watched in awe as its flowers turned to fruits.
Laughing we tasted as we sat beneath its shade.
But like everything in life nothing lasts forever.
The leaves began to wilt they turned from green to brown.
I yelled at the damn tree punching it's bark.
She watched as the tree faded and I raged.
Quietly she turned and walked away.
After the tree fell to the ground I sat at it's stump.
Here I have built my home in this place of decay.
My rage has passed and I've grown so much.
My stone heart lifted by God's balloons.
Now I still sit under the up heaved roots.
But I say to this most unlikely place:
Love never fails and Love ALWAYS hopes!
I've seen a dead seed sprout wonderful life.
Hakuna Matata
I wonder if she still has that letter I wrote her in the fall.
I wonder if the painting I gave her still hangs on her wall.
if she wonders half as much as I do.
if she misses being in my arms.
if a dandelion still grows in the pot we painted.
if she wears my sweat pants.
if she still has the Tolstoy book,
the Meaning of Marriage,
Restoration Agriculture,
Reaching for Rainbows,
I wonder where is she, where she's been and where she's heading.
about the books she's read and her thoughts on them.
about the songs she sings and how they make her feel.
about the things she's seen and how they inspire her.
I wonder if she's living in freedom and what that means to her.
if certain places, smells, words remind her of us.
I wonder if she will ever reach out to me again.
if this silence stings as much on her end.
if she's waiting for me to make the first move.
if she's dreading that I'll do such a thing.
I wonder if she knows how beautiful she is.
if she believes what I wrote to her in that letter.
if I appear in some of her dreams.
The part I've played in her life, big or small.
Does she miss how I'd make her laugh?
Did she feel the common thread woven deep within?
I remember she never thought I was sincere.
But I've never been so vulnerable.
I wonder if she knew how much I hated heights as I screamed beside her at Cedar Point.
I wouldn't have ever been so vulnerable around anyone else.
I loved how she laughed as I gripped the coaster
In that moment she saw such a raw me that I'd never shown anyone before.
Under the stars on that night by her parents' old house
I actually got on a bike because I knew how much she wanted to train for that marathon.
how I wanted to support her in that.
I cannot believe I did that.
One of my deepest wounds exposed freely to her.
The things I spoke to her that I've never told anyone else.
She was, by far, my best friend
With her by my side I awoke from my sleep.
I threw off the blankets of fear and found life.
How badly I wanted to push her, to encourage her, to stand beside her, help her voice be heard, help her heart chase the dreams planted within her.
Maybe she'll never know how thankful I am for how she helped me.
Maybe I'll never get the chance to help her move towards Christ's heart.
Maybe that was the end of our story.
Nothing in this life lasts.
Seasons go and seasons come,
steady as the beating drum.
That was one hell of a beautiful season.
Nothing in this life lasts.
I choose to smile because it happened. She is by far the most beautiful thing I have experienced in Your creation God. I am thankful for the time we had. I hope she lives a life always free. I hope fear never touches her. Her heart shines such a beautiful reflection of Yours God.
Her beauty is nothing compared to what
She will become
In time, become
But this season is over and I need to move onward. So I am making the choice to never write another letter to You about her so long as she chooses not to reach out to me. I want her to be free it's what I've always told her and with that I want her to choose what she wants whether that means never talking to me again or down the road of life reconnecting. But for me I need to make a choice and although my heart may feel for her my mind will choose not to write about her. I love her very much so but love can take many forms. I will love her by withholding my letters about her to You. It is for freedom You set us free.
I pray that You keep that woman's heart free, always.
I give up
I let go
I surrender
the beard is a reminder of this
I give up
Ray LaMontagne - Empty
― Dr. Seuss
Taste of the #wedding #YoureWelcome pic.twitter.com/viLlDMMvXD
— Adam Schuch (@ZMorris93) August 3, 2013We found a seed in the most unlikely of places.In the walls of a forgotten part of the city.
We put it in some soil wondering what would happen.
As it grew we held hands enjoying its beauty.
The sprout turned to a tree as its roots dug deep.
Together we pulled the weeds and watered its trunk.
We watched in awe as its flowers turned to fruits.
Laughing we tasted as we sat beneath its shade.
But like everything in life nothing lasts forever.
The leaves began to wilt they turned from green to brown.
I yelled at the damn tree punching it's bark.
She watched as the tree faded and I raged.
Quietly she turned and walked away.
After the tree fell to the ground I sat at it's stump.
Here I have built my home in this place of decay.
My rage has passed and I've grown so much.
My stone heart lifted by God's balloons.
Now I still sit under the up heaved roots.
But I say to this most unlikely place:
Love never fails and Love ALWAYS hopes!
I've seen a dead seed sprout wonderful life.
Hakuna Matata
I wonder if she still has that letter I wrote her in the fall.
I wonder if the painting I gave her still hangs on her wall.
if she wonders half as much as I do.
if she misses being in my arms.
if a dandelion still grows in the pot we painted.
if she wears my sweat pants.
if she still has the Tolstoy book,
the Meaning of Marriage,
Restoration Agriculture,
Reaching for Rainbows,
I wonder where is she, where she's been and where she's heading.
about the books she's read and her thoughts on them.
about the songs she sings and how they make her feel.
about the things she's seen and how they inspire her.
I wonder if she's living in freedom and what that means to her.
if certain places, smells, words remind her of us.
I wonder if she will ever reach out to me again.
if this silence stings as much on her end.
if she's waiting for me to make the first move.
if she's dreading that I'll do such a thing.
I wonder if she knows how beautiful she is.
if she believes what I wrote to her in that letter.
if I appear in some of her dreams.
The part I've played in her life, big or small.
Does she miss how I'd make her laugh?
Did she feel the common thread woven deep within?
I remember she never thought I was sincere.
But I've never been so vulnerable.
I wonder if she knew how much I hated heights as I screamed beside her at Cedar Point.
I wouldn't have ever been so vulnerable around anyone else.
I loved how she laughed as I gripped the coaster
In that moment she saw such a raw me that I'd never shown anyone before.
Under the stars on that night by her parents' old house
I actually got on a bike because I knew how much she wanted to train for that marathon.
how I wanted to support her in that.
I cannot believe I did that.
One of my deepest wounds exposed freely to her.
The things I spoke to her that I've never told anyone else.
She was, by far, my best friend
With her by my side I awoke from my sleep.
I threw off the blankets of fear and found life.
How badly I wanted to push her, to encourage her, to stand beside her, help her voice be heard, help her heart chase the dreams planted within her.
Maybe she'll never know how thankful I am for how she helped me.
Maybe I'll never get the chance to help her move towards Christ's heart.
Maybe that was the end of our story.
Nothing in this life lasts.
Seasons go and seasons come,
steady as the beating drum.
That was one hell of a beautiful season.
Nothing in this life lasts.
I choose to smile because it happened. She is by far the most beautiful thing I have experienced in Your creation God. I am thankful for the time we had. I hope she lives a life always free. I hope fear never touches her. Her heart shines such a beautiful reflection of Yours God.
Her beauty is nothing compared to what
She will become
In time, become
But this season is over and I need to move onward. So I am making the choice to never write another letter to You about her so long as she chooses not to reach out to me. I want her to be free it's what I've always told her and with that I want her to choose what she wants whether that means never talking to me again or down the road of life reconnecting. But for me I need to make a choice and although my heart may feel for her my mind will choose not to write about her. I love her very much so but love can take many forms. I will love her by withholding my letters about her to You. It is for freedom You set us free.
I pray that You keep that woman's heart free, always.
I give up
I let go
I surrender
the beard is a reminder of this
I give up
Ray LaMontagne - Empty
Sunday, August 3, 2014
08/03/14
I love my job. I can hardly consider it work. It is fun.
I love watching the kids grow. I love loving them and receiving their love.
I love helping them learn and supporting them in their struggles as they grow.
I love where I live. Clintonville speaks to my heart.
I love the trees.
The food.
The neighbors.
I'm living with two men whom I've known nearly all of my life.
Ellen pushes me and I gain wisdom through these roommates.
I love the garden
I love working with my hands
watching God's faithfulness grow
I love the pantry
I love seeing the kingdom of heaven here on earth in those walls
I love the parish farming internship
I love that community and its conversations.
I exist.
even if it is only for the moment I exist and I love this life
life is good.
and yet...
there always seems to be an 'and yet'
I can't help but feel I am in a season of waiting.
But what am I waiting for?
Life is good
I am content
why do I not feel satisfaction in such a life?
How can it get any better than where I am now?
And here I am still grasping for something waiting for something.
Am I missing something God?
Why do I feel this longing?
What is it for?
Perhaps I will always feel this so long as I am in this life in this existence not yet in communion with You.
Is that it or is it something more?
I know now in my life is a season I will always look back on fondly and yet I can't seem to fully enjoy it.
Am I incapable of rest?
true contentment?
I suppose I lack the sort of conversation I had last year the sort of stretching and thinking the engaging sort of conversation.
Is that it?
I cannot say exactly how to scratch this itch but only that I am aware that such an itch exists within me.
Jesus let me find rest in You.
Sam Smith - Lay Me Down
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