Tag Archives: heaven

Eloi, Eloi lama sabachthani?

 My Lord, where hast thou gone? Why hast thou hidden thy face from your broken servant? Hast thou called the heavens to block thy view from my tears? Have thou sent the winds to shield thy ears from the crying of this broken man before thee? My empty shell wanders to and fro among the earth, looking for respite from thy mighty hand. Oh Lord, my friend, where hast thou gone where I may find thee? Shall you never to answer my prayers again? Shall I be counted amongst the hopeless and lie among the dead? Where hast thou gone my beloved keeper?

The ravens fly over my head awaiting my demise; vultures wait to pick whatever remains from my soul. Will thou always be turned from my groaning? Shall my begging go unnoticed from my fellow man? Where art thou oh Lord of Hosts? Remove my sins from thy sight and restore life to my bones, have I been forgotten and stricken from thy book? Will I find refuge in cracked wineskins, or love in the arms of women?

Even the tips of my fingers ache and my feet are swollen because of my wandering. Where hast thou gone oh King of Kings? Thunder cracks and lightning shoots forth from your temple, will you not cover me in thy wings? Have I gone out from the protection of thy mercy? Are my sins to great for even you oh Lord? My spirit is crushed because of the iniquity before thee. How could thee forget thy servant? This hollow, wretched creature thy hands have made sits in stupor, and bewitched with questions too great for my own understanding. Have thou left me here in the wilderness to rot like a carcass? Heavens no!

Come to me, oh my Rock, leave me not in gloom among the dead. If thou would only grace me with thou holy finger and restore my life who would not praise you ever more? In need I come to thee, in despair I lift my eyes towards Your holy hill. My mouth has whispered wicked things; Your servant has hardened his heart in front of thy face and forgotten thee.

Like kings before me, I have forgotten the graciousness of thy arms, my head is filled with the ramblings of anarchy, my heart, full of deceit! Where hast thou gone Lord of Lords? Will thou hands stay forever over thy ears, to block out the pleadings of Your poor servant? Have I nothing left to offer thee? Cast me not into the gutters, bring me close to thy heart, and leave me not to be the scorn of my neighbors!

Who am I to approach thee with such requests? Your servant has traveled far and wide and is in need of thy merciful touch. Fill me with thy Spirit, when You look down upon the children of men, remember me, help thy pitiful creature to stand tall among giants, fill me with courage, hold me close to thee once again so I may remember what it is like to be filled with joy.

Where art thou oh Savior and who is like You? When rain crashes my dwelling place and robbers come against me, how shall I stand if thou would forget me? My tongue is burnt from the hell I spread, my mind is scorched with grief and my throat is raw from crying out to thee in the dark of night.

When I walk in the daylight, my neighbors point and stare, they hiss and laugh and forget the goodness thou hast bestowed upon them. I curse myself and hide in the hills, far from the sight of man. This place in which thou delivered me, shall I be left here like an orphan and remain alone? Where art thou Creator and where am I to go for help in my time of need? Who could deliver me from wretched poverty and agonizing loneliness except thee? Oh wretched man that I am! Who can save me from this body of death? Forget me not, oh Redeemer, come to my aid swiftly and bring thy torch to light my path once again. Eloi, Eloi lama sabachthani?

Triton in the Sky.

Triton in the Sky.

Long Island New York circa 2012
Photography by Gabriel

As the result of unseen cosmic earthquakes beyond the clouded barrier, the sky cracked open with a flash and tossed the sea to and fro allowing both wind and reed to interlock in a perpetual battle for the ages.

Welcome to Bangarang.

The sun melted as it struck the horizon to the West. The once orange globe now burned fiery red as it descended back to hell to refuel for the opposite side of earth. Purple mixed with blues and yellows shot forth in to the nothingness of the Milky Way where it lingered for light years before reaching the doorway to Heaven and vanishing altogether. An invisible hand took hold of massive clouds and shifted them slightly, causing people far below to bow in awe as the sunset began to reach its’ zenith. Far above the outstretched arms of mankind, stars began to awaken from slumber and the moon rose to victory as his eternal foe was snuffed out beyond the Pacific and was no more.

The sunset described above was concocted in my imagination on the way home from work the other night. It is a figment of my heart. The real sunset was rather uneventful yet beautiful in its’ own right. No fireworks. No orgasmic blast of colors raining down from above. No altercations between sun and moon. The people driving in front of me continued on their paths towards wherever while I rested my head against the cushion and listened to Lyle Lovett sing about flour tortillas and the woman he loves.  I began to wonder what type of words would describe moments of true happiness. When I listen to him sing about over-easy eggs and sleeping in on Sundays, I am convinced the hype we see on television is nothing more than smoke in mirrors. I wonder if the most precious moments in our lives really do commence over breakfast with a loved one. I watched the hula-hooped Hawaiian girl bobble back and forth in agreement on the dashboard of my van. Traffic crept along blissfully unaware of the perplexing dilemma which I faced so I rolled my window down to ask the little old lady beside me how she felt about the word Bangarang. She asked if I wanted a blue orangutan. I rolled up my window and sped away with images of blue monkeys throwing bananas and causing anarchy around town.

Image I believe we are allotted a handful of wonderful experiences in life which sweep away depression and cast light on the shadows of loneliness. We wait patiently for good tidings and great joy because some clever person told us it was a virtue and all that jazz so take a number, sit down and wait your turn. Do yourself a favor and bring a book because it may be a long wait. In all honesty, I am tired of waiting. Sometimes we need to step out of our shells of fear and uncertainty and take the plunge because nothing will ever happen if we stay stagnant. If we never have the guts to go off the beaten path once and awhile we run the risk of never finding the secret doors God intended us to find. These doors are not your main objective mind you, just interesting side quests. But there is a catch. Like our fragile human frame, these expeditions are vulnerable to time and will be swallowed up by the past if we are too timid to step out on a ledge and claim what so rightfully belongs to us. It makes me sad to think I passed up many doors in my own life that I was supposed to unlock. Fortunately I know there are more waiting for me to walk through. Actually, if you were to look down the road of my life at this moment, you would see a bunch of blue apes hanging a sign over what appears to be an ancient wooden door overrun with ivy and suspense. I think they are welcoming me to Bangarang.