Fantasy bubbles are exploding; our handmade arts look like the meteoric attractions. They produce the pictorial splashes, yet who would care for the tatters? That’s why lots of pictures are rolling in the mud of the forgetfulness. The heart is crying for the survival and thus leads all those who have the ears to God’s Word. God dries our teardrop and gives the peace in Jesus Christ.
This was laid on my table …. for I could recognize myself in my surroundings … I have made a shot once upon a time.
This is what have happened next. Fernando Vincent made the photo the header of my blog. It was my first blog . ‘The Portrait of the Silence’ were my first steps on the Internet …
When we post to our blogs and see no comments, that grieves us. It looks as if we were talking just with a wall, that no one heard us.
We are not alone. Just have a look
Love reminds of a flower. This word directs us at the eternal beauty. The sound and vision cast glamour over us, and all people rejoice at their beloved – anybody worry over the details. That looks so natural, that ir becomes hard to perceive the existence of the cruelest wars because of the love. It’s hardly surprising that we question ourselves ” why does the sun leave a stage to the Moon?”
Love is like a flower. The intoxicating smell cast glamour over us and makes the question “how does the flower looki like in the concrete?” the seconddary matter. Therefore the roses look at marguerites and they both are withering up. The Forget-me-not ceases smiling too. The beauty of the wild flowers becomes the agricultural product – the history declares the hay time. Thus all people around eagerly look to the love today – passionately search the remnants of the humaneness. Wow, what’s that?
While reading the Bible, I have learned that the love may be
1) the love of self (the passion)
2) the brotherly love (the national feelings)
3) the agape (the divine love)
The love bears all the above mentioned and it enables everything to exist. As you see for yourself, we stand face to face with three quite different pictures of the love. It’s the obvious that the formless visions (the general words) depict nothing at all except for the mess. We take a try at hiding in the flowers, but are forced to admit that just the love is just nice word and therefore the beauty of our language is impotent to make any shield to us.
The love exists indeed, but she is the spirit and we must to confess our faith aloud. The love is what we accept or not. Thus our choice reveals either we enjoy the flowers of our own yard (bother about the security of our flesh ), or rest in the eternal peace of divine love that embrace us all likewise all over the world.