We get too comfortable with this orphanage universe though. We sit in our pews or behind our pulpits knowing that our children watch Christian cartoons instead of slash films. We vote for the right candidates and know all the right worldview talking points. And were content with the world we know just adjusted a little for our identity as Christians. Thats precisely why so many of us are so atrophied in our prayers why our prayers rarely reach the level of groanings too deep for words Rom 826. We are too numbed to be as frustrated as the Spirit is with the way things are.

From Les MiserablesAll at once in the midst of this profound calm a fresh sound arose a sound as celestial divine ineffable ravishing as the other had been horrible. It was a hymn which issued from the gloom a dazzling burst of prayer and harmony in the obscure and alarming silence of the night womens voices but voices composed at one and the same time of the pure accents of virgins and the innocent accent of children -- voices which are not of the earth and which resemble those that the newborn infant still hears and which the dying man hears already. This song proceeded from the gloomy edifice which towered above the garden. At the moment when the hubbub of demons retreated one would have said that a choir of angels was approaching through the gloom.Cosette and Jean Valjean fell on their knees.They knew not what it was they knew not where they were but both of them the man and the child the penitent and the innocent felt that they must kneel.These voices had this strange characteristic that they did not prevent the building from seeming to be deserted. It was a supernatural chant in an uninhabited house. While these voices were singing Jean Valjean thought of nothing. He no longer beheld the night he beheld a blue sky. It seemed to him that he felt those wings which we all have within us unfolding.The song died away. It may have lasted a long time. Jean Valjean could not have told. Hours of ecstasy are never more than a moment.

The secret of seeing is then the pearl of great price. If I thought he could teach me to find it and keep it forever I would stagger barefoot across a hundred deserts after any lunatic at all. But although the pearl may be found it may not be sought. The literature of illumination reveals this above all although it comes to those who wait for it it is always even to the most practiced and adept a gift and a total surprise. I return from one walk knowing where the killdeer nests in the field by the creek and the hour the laurel blooms. I return form the same walk a day later scarcely knowing my own name. Litanies hum in my ears my tongue flaps in my mouth. Ailinon alleluia

I had a dream about you. You had a bottle made of smoky glass which made the contents appear mysterious and I had the last smoky exhalation of a dead smoker in a Ziploc bag. I offered to trade my sandwich for your drink but you said No thanks Im asexual.

Even if you know youre sleeping youre still at the mercy of your dreams. People who are asleep cant simply decide to wake up. Nightmares dont let you off that easily. They hold you in their clutches until they decided in their own good time to let you go.

I wonder who had the first computer dream where and when I wonder if computers ever dream of humans.

She will not come back but her beauty her voice will echo until the end of time. She believed in something beyond herself and her death gave her voice power it didnt havein life. She was pure like your father. We you and Ihe touches my chest with the back of his index fingerare dirty. We are made for blood. Rough hands. Dirty hearts.We are lesser creatures in the grand scheme of things but without us men of war no one except those of Lykos would hear Eos song. Without our rough hands the dreams of the pure hearts would never be built.

I had a dream about you. You were trying to swim across the Atlantic Ocean and I figured Id help you out so I brought a bucket to the beach and scooped out about a gallon of sea water. I was pleased with myself because now youd have that much less water to swim through. People have drowned on a gallon of water so its very likely I saved your life. But I didnt do it to be honored like a hero though a parade would be nice. I did it for the free meals and the discounted sex.

The consequences of giving up on your dreams are bitter than the causes of your intentions to give up. Dont give up

Or I would be the rain itself wreathing over the island mingling in the quiet of moist places filling its pores with its saturated breaths. And I would be the wind whispering through the tangled woods running airy fingers over the islands face tingling in the chill of concealed places sighing secrets in the dawn. And I would be the light flinging over the island covering it with flash and shadow shining on rocks and pools softening to a touch in the glow of dusk. If I were the rain and wind and light I would encircle the island like the sky surrounding earth flood through it like a heart driven pulse shine from inside it like a star in flames burn away to blackness in the closed eyes of its night. There are so many ways I could love this island if I were the rain.