Nobody Else

midnight ramblings of an unlikely seussly saint

You and only You, dear Jesus,
can hold me, rescue me,
and save me,
safe from myself.

Save me from the soppy wallow of ego
from the mangly tangles of thought,
emotion and conviction,
resignation, exhilaration and supression

The who, the why and the when
then hows, then whats,
whatfors
whocares
whybothers
ohwells

Oh, for me to soak up Your purposes
in my life and trust-thrust
provision and guidance
each step of the
way towards you.
Sweet communion,
wholy holy, sacred, scared
of separation, abandonment
abandoned with wild abandon;
Conversations of conservation.

Floss and flow,
each step a day
keener, more desperate
than the last
half step.

Sovereign, you are sovereign
still in my life,
live in, and live out.
Even if I do or do not
understand or be-live it.
Circumstances do not change it;
help me to realize
Your reality.

Save me from mindlessness
and from the plodding
humdrum of medriocrity
and excitability;
Busyness without aim
labor with no rest and
toil that is fruitless.

Ticktocking of inconsequentials
that go round
and round and round
only to begin and restart
where we end.
You and only You, dear Jesus,
can hold me, rescue me,
and save me,
safe from myself.

Agnus Dei,
qui tollis peccata mundi;
dona nobis pacem.

MONDAY MORNING

Its monday morning, on the 21st... I've got exactly 30 full days left to complete and submit my thesis... well, after that i've still got another 4 weeks to hem and haw by, but that's not quite my plan.

I'm not quite sure i've got it all down pat... but at page 48, with over 95 references and still stuck in chapter 2 sounds kinda wrong. I'm not sure. I guess i'll find out at the end of the whole business... I may have to shift some literature survey to the discussion section, to trim chapter 2 down abit. Argh. Help!

And i've been dreaming of figures and equations... its haunting my waking and subconscious moments.

I guess i should start a series of entries entitled
"weird facts from my research"
did you know that
1. in 1636, Galileo clearly explained the relation between pitch and the frequency of vibrations of a string; at the same time (1636) and independently, churchman Mersenne related pitch to the actual number of vibrations per second.
2. up until about 50 years ago, violins, guitar and harps all used catgut for strings. While not really made from cat guts (its too short!), sheep guts were used, sliced up, wound together while wet, and held stretched under tension for several days to dry. They were really expensive and had a limited life, and probably smelled.
3. up til now, no one really understands HOW our ears and brain perceive sound- high and low pitches, pitch discrimination, picking out voices in a crowd, etc. The generally acceptable hypothesis is that fine hairs in our ears are responsible for frequency discrimination.

Hmmm

He who covers over an offense promotes love,
but whoever repeats the matter separates close friends.
Prov 17:9

Healing wounds getting tugged open.
Festering sores allowed to sit.
Humility, grace and love.
Oh, to open my heart and let the healer set me free!

Kyrie Eleison!

Here's the rest of the essay...

here's the rest of the essay...

Meditation XVII (1623-1624)
From Devotions upon Emergent Occasions
by John Donne

Nunc lento sonitu dicunt, morieris.
Now this bell tolling softly for another, says to me, Thou must die.

Perchance he for whom this bell tolls may be so ill as that he knows not it tolls for him; and perchance I may think myself so much better than I am, as that they who are about me and see my state may have caused it to toll for me, and I know not that. The church is catholic, universal, so are all her actions; all that she does belongs to all. When she baptizes a child, that action concerns me; for that child is thereby connected to that head which is my head too, and ingrafted into the body whereof I am a member. And when she buries a man, that action concerns me: all mankind is of one author and is one volume; when one man dies, one chapter is not torn out of the book, but translated into a better language; and every chapter must be so translated. God employs several translators; some pieces are translated by age, some by sickness, some by war, some by justice; but God's hand is in every translation, and his hand shall bind up all our scattered leaves again for that library where every book shall lie open to one another. As therefore the bell that rings a sermon calls not upon the preacher only, but upon the congregation to come, so this bell calls us all; but how much more me, who am brought so near the door by this sickness. There was a contention as far as a suit (in which piety and dignity, religion and estimation, were mingled) which of the religious orders should ring to prayers first in the morning; and it was determined that they should ring first that rose earliest. If we understand aright the dignity of this bell that tolls for our evening prayer, we would be glad to make it ours by rising early, in that application, that it might be ours as well as his whose indeed it is. The bell doth toll for him that thinks it doth; and though it intermit again, yet from that minute that that occasion wrought upon him, he is united to God. Who casts not up his eye to the sun when it rises? but who takes off his eye from a comet when that breaks out? Who bends not his ear to any bell which upon any occasion rings? but who can remove it from that bell which is passing a piece of himself out of this world? No man is an island. entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friend's or of thine own were. Any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind; and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee. Neither can we call this a begging of misery or a borrowing of misery, as though we are not miserable enough of ourselves but must fetch in more from the next house, in taking upon us the misery of our neighbors. Truly it were an excusable covetousness if we did; for affliction is a treasure, and scarce any man hath enough of it. No man hath afflicion enough that is not matured and ripened by it, and made fit for God by that affliction. If a man carry treasure in bullion, or in a wedge of gold, and have none coined into current moneys, his treasure will not defray him as he travels. Tribulation is treasure in the nature of it, but it is not current money in the use of it, except we get nearer and nearer our home, heaven, by it. Another man may be sick too, and sick to death, and this affliction may lie in his bowels as gold in a mine and be of no use to him; but this bell that tells me of his affliction digs out and applies that gold to me, if by this consideration of another's dangers I take mine own into conteplation and so secure myself by making my recourse to my God, who is our only security.

Meditation XVII

John Donne

...All mankind is of one author, and is one volume;
when one man dies, one chapter is not torn out of the book,
but translated into a better language;
and every chapter must be so translated;
God employs several translators;
some pieces are translated by age,
some by sickness, some by war,
some by justice;
but God's hand is in every translation,
and his hand shall bind up all our scattered leaves again
for that library where every book shall lie open to one another...

Help!

Abstract: I'm buried under stacks of journals, reviews, textbooks, music references... paper paper everywhere, and not a sheet to think. I've run out of physical usable table/ floor surface to lay them around, resorting to using drawers to create more area to lay them out. My paper mess has grown couple of times larger than my cd mess. I need extra mega memory to be able to manage a growing list of reference materials and experimental data, and wisdom to tie them together. Bringing a stack or journal papers to camp to browse through- i've read through them over a year back, and need a refresher! All related directly acoustics of a vibrating string system. I wish I could just download the stuff in my head in one whole, huge organic manner, instead of having to type them out linearly, a line at a time, given the matrixed, interlinked, organic structure of their inter-relatedness.

Keywords: music wire, vibrational testing, synthesis, timbre, inharmonic, anharmonic, a-harmonic, harmonic, phantom partials, complex tones, violin Q modes, cavity modes, Fast Fourier-Transform, mechanical admittance, perceptual differences, synthesis, pitch, impedence.

Bleagh!

But regarding anything beyond this, dear friend, go easy. There's no end to the publishing of books, and constant study wears you out so you're no good for anything else.
Ecclesiastes 12:12 (The Message)

Focus

I've been having ambling thoughts and questions asked about what I should be doing after this degree. I just had another one today from a dear friend... I wish sometimes I had this prerecorded message that I could use to replay- but therein lies the foolishness, because it changes, ever so, with varying shades of aspiration, events and circumstances.

Interestingly, yesterday, I dug out some old MiniDisc recordings I made awhile back. In one of the tracks, I was reading out an Amy Carmichael poem (Rose from Brier), and before proceeding to read (over a soundscape of soothy celtic atmospherics), I stated out the time and date: January 14th, 2001, Two AM. While the contents of the poem is a prayer for God to change, immolate(!) and perfect me, it struck me how long ago that prayer was made. And how I had grown somewhat since- not even close to perfect, but better off in someways than then.

It just surprised me how these last three years had flown by in a blink, how the world has changed, how friends, family and the church community has changed and set in various paths; how my outlook and worldview was simpler!

Then in the midst of doing my internship (in a business development unit!), I hadn't the faintest idea what would have been in store: How the youth group would grow and multiply, handing over my cellgroup responsibilities, and an increased involvement with jireh kids (they were merely lower secondary kids then- they're now all in poly/jcs), how I would be visiting Merv in Munich and James in New York, how I would even take up a formative role in developing the [mega]camp concept for the youths, eventually feeling compelled to move out of youth ministry, of having increasing involvement in inter/parachurch events, of how much grace and mercy has come my way. That season I was fresh with fire from one of the most powerful spiritual experiences in my life- the summer camp of 2000 in virginia, coupled with a trailblazing trip across kazakstan (from the chinese border to the uzbek border). Never guessed I would be doing a research project with a quirky title, still guessing whats next in store. Through bouts of procrastination and diligence, these last three years seem to have been jam packed with loads of people, events, convictions that I'm still sifting through, struggling to be mindful of faithfulness and stewardship. Growing through seasons of change, the dark night of the soul, the wilderness episodes, the exhilarating periods of unexpected refreshment, comfort and vision.

Milestones, not millstones. In awe of His faithfulness.

The task I have presently is how NOT to lose the sense of wonder, of awe. Lord, save me from jadedness; that every plodding moment should be one holy, awesome moment!

Lord, more and more
I pray Thee, or by wind or fire,
Make pure my inmost heart’s desire
And purge the clinging chaff from off the floor

I wish Thy way
But when in me myself would rise
And long for something otherwise,
Then, Holy One, Take sword and spear and slay.

Oh, stay near by,
Most patient Love, till, by Thy grace,
In this poor silver, Thy bright face
Shows forth in clearness and serenity

What will it be
When, like the lily or the rose,
That in my flowery garden
I shall be flawless, perfect, Lord to Thee?
(Amy Carmichael, Rose from Brier)

While at bible study with my graduate crusade friends today, it suddenly occured to me how this life is set out to constantly seek that [illusive] balance and focus of where God has set us out to do. How in order to find out what God has made us out for, we have to try it out and do it (with due consideration of course), and finding out our personal responses to it.

This of course, led me to an analogy of the microscope- you see, when we want to focus an image on a microscope (optical or SEM or telescope even), you do a rough focusing til you have an overall image (at the lowest magnification), so you know where in the image you want to zoom into, and better focus. How focusing usually happens, is you arrive at the image that is slightly too near, then you move it to an image that is slightly too far (or vice versa), and you try and find that inbetween point. You then go to the next level of magnification, and do the whole focusing process again, albeit with a finer level of + or - wrt the ideal distance. You reiterate the whole process at even greater levels of magnification, and correspondingly smaller corrections. In theory, there is practically NO limit to how much you want to do that- until you reach the maximum magnification I suppose (or simply physical limits of subatomic levels).

So, focusing is simply arriving at a target, and see how much you miss it by, and you try and change, probably 'overshooting' abit, then you self-correct; and this gets reiterated over and over again, + - + - + - + - + - .... ideally each correction smaller than the previous, and hence bringing us closer to the destination. Ironically, because we live in a physical, imperfect realm, we'll never actually reach the perfect point, until we leave this world. At another level, the process of focusing also gives one a good grasp of the specimen context and terrain. You learn lessons on the subject while you focus too.

Lord, renew my vision and focus!

Hbrw

Bn ltly 'xpsd qt 'bt t hbrw, 'nd 'n hbrw, thy dn't hv vwls, prtty mch lk 'n ths 'ntry. S 'f th lngg 's nt fmlr, 'ts 'mpssbl t 'ndrstnd. Nw fr ths, 'm tryng t hlp by pttng 'n 'nvrtd cmm rght 'nfrnt 'f th wrd strts wth vwl.

S, 'ts 'sy t 'ndrstnd why hbrw 's s vry dffclt t lrn 'nd mstr. Ths 'ls 'xplns why th jwsh ppl 'r vry smrt! T 'dd t th cmplctn, 'ftn 'n hbrw thy cntrct th 'lrdy cntrctd wrds, 'spclly 'f 'ts prtty 'bvs, fr 'xmpl, "Gd Mrng" smply cld bcm "G-M" whn wrttn!

Barocha

The Aaronic blessing:
יְבָרֶכְךָ יְהוָה, וְיִשְׁמְרֶךָ
יָאֵר יְהוָה פָּנָיו אֵלֶיךָ, וִיחֻנֶּךָּ
יִשָּׂא יְהוָה פָּנָיו אֵלֶיךָ, וְיָשֵׂם לְךָ שָׁלוֹם

ybrkk yhvh vysmrk.
y`r yhvh pnyv `lyk vyxnk.
ys` yhvh pnyv `lyk vysm lk slvm.

"The LORD bless you and keep you;
the LORD make his face shine upon you and be gracious to you;
the LORD turn his face toward you and give you peace."
Numbers 6:24

Journey

Corrine May

It's a long long journey
Till I know where I'm supposed to be
It's a long long journey
And I don't know if I can believe
When shadows fall and block my eyes
I am lost and know that I must hide
It's a long long journey
Till I find my way home to You

Many days I've spent
Drifting on through empty shores
Wondering what's my purpose
Wondering how to make me strong

I know I will falter I know I will cry
I know you'll be standing by my side
It's a long long journey
And I need to be close to You

Sometimes it feels no one understands
I don't even know why
I do the things I do
When pride builds me up till I can't see my soul
Will you break down these walls and pull me through

Cause It's a long long journey
Till I feel that I am worth the price
You paid for me on Calvary
Beneath those stormy skies

When Satan mocks and friends turn to foes
It feels like everything is out to make me lose control
It's a long long journey
Till I find my way home to You.
To You.