Nov 2021
Blessed are the broken, because in them there's something to fix.
Blessed are the destitute, because their arms are wide open.
Blessed are the blind, because they truly appreciate the light.
Blessed is the homeless man you glared at last Tuesday on your way back from work, because his soul is searching for a real home while yours is watching netflix in bed.
Blessed are the simple-minded, because they seem to be the only ones who can understand the promises given them by the eternal deity anymore now that science has disproven the infinite and almighty creator's existence without the least understanding of what infinite even means.
Blessed are the ones in the background of your selfish and 'significant' lives, because they are the colors that God uses to paint the masterpiece that is the space between the physical and spiritual realm, the elaborate painting that we get to walk and breathe and live through each day, the one with the smell of winter's cold and warm fires, the one with the flowering cycles of the most beautiful orchids and the ripeness of a fresh mango, the one where the oceans dance with the shore and the great cliffs watch in awe, and the one with the tender autumn snuggles on a chilly goodnight. They are the reason the poets have anything to write about at all, and the reason they take joy in writing what they do.
Blessed are the empty vessels, because I am in love with the humble and weak, and I wish to fill those who seek me and give them life and joy everlasting.
Blessed are the destitute, because their arms are wide open.
Blessed are the blind, because they truly appreciate the light.
Blessed is the homeless man you glared at last Tuesday on your way back from work, because his soul is searching for a real home while yours is watching netflix in bed.
Blessed are the simple-minded, because they seem to be the only ones who can understand the promises given them by the eternal deity anymore now that science has disproven the infinite and almighty creator's existence without the least understanding of what infinite even means.
Blessed are the ones in the background of your selfish and 'significant' lives, because they are the colors that God uses to paint the masterpiece that is the space between the physical and spiritual realm, the elaborate painting that we get to walk and breathe and live through each day, the one with the smell of winter's cold and warm fires, the one with the flowering cycles of the most beautiful orchids and the ripeness of a fresh mango, the one where the oceans dance with the shore and the great cliffs watch in awe, and the one with the tender autumn snuggles on a chilly goodnight. They are the reason the poets have anything to write about at all, and the reason they take joy in writing what they do.
Blessed are the empty vessels, because I am in love with the humble and weak, and I wish to fill those who seek me and give them life and joy everlasting.
My take on the Beatitudes of Matthew chapter 5. There's something missing in our current accepted understanding of those words, and that misunderstanding tends to pull us away from the real, loving Christ. Is this really an embodiment of that, though? Probably not, and for that I ask Him forgiveness. I write these particular words for myself more than anyone else.
