glorycloud's Diaryland Diary

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the hidden divinity mediated by light

It is 10:28 AM Sunday morning in the flow of existence. It is a sunny autumn morning here by Lake Michigan. The trees are turning color and the days are getting shorter.

I am down in the lower level drinking coffee and reading Mystical Theology for morning worship. Carol went to Covenant PCA this morning. Beth and Louisa are upstairs. This afternoon Carol, Beth and Lou are driving over to Grand Rapids to visit with Andy's mother.

We were all up around 5:47 AM this morning. We were all up because Lou was awake. I made a pot of coffee and messed with our main computer. After messing with our main computer I cooked breakfast for everyone. We got out of the basement Carol's old baby highchair for Louisa to sit in so as to watch Papa cook breakfast.

So the morning has gone by. I am tired as usual. We went to bed early last night. I plan to take a nap this afternoon.

I have been mainly reading these days a book titled, "Up In The Old Hotel" short stories by Joseph Michell.

Well I will close with a quote from, "The Roads To Zion Mourn" by Hugh of Balma.

"50. Having said that true love reposes in that union of love that unites to the One who is subject to nothing, we must discuss how it is that reason finds truth only in him. But because we are here assuming the viewpoint that true enlightenment is the result of love, we must discuss how the will finds full satisfaction in him and him alone when the wayfarer living in this present life arrives at happy union with him. (This will be described at greater length later.) Although the spirit ought not rest in anything less noble than herself and although earthly consolation or fleshly delight are not enough for her, still, sometimes she busies herself with such things, which is contrary to her natural urge toward God. This is lamentable because every true delight stills the yearning or striving of the person hungry for it, whereas earthly things, no matter how sweet one might think them, after a time leave a famished and completely restless appetite behind, as is obvious in all sensory things. Therefor the appetite's urges never find repose in earthly pleasures. What then should our human spirit do? She needs to end up with the one thing that can speed her way to present union with the only One she discovered to be better than herself, the One who alone conceals within himself the treasury of rejoicing. When she finds this treasure through experiential knowledge, she for joy thereof goes and sells all she has and buys the field(Mat 13:44)." pg. 126 Hugh of Balma

10:54 a.m. - 2014-08-10

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