PaulaOkeefe Blog Site
Life is a journey and for me it is like climbing a mountain. As you get closer to the top, you are closer to heaven. Whether you are on a mountain with much glory or on the mountain of suffering, you journey.....and for believers like me the journey is to a place we call heaven.
We have many other small journeys that all belong in our life for some reason and even if it seems like some stuff doesn't belong, perhaps we can learn something from it. When others treat us poorly, we can turn the other cheek and learn how to treat others in a kinder way than we might have experienced. Anyway, before I ramble on too much, I will say see you blogging.
Tuesday, December 10, 2013
This is only the beginning of a long and lovely poem written by a brilliant and
gentle soul who ended up addicted to opium and homeless. His story is not unlike what many experience today. We have so much drug addiction and homelessness in
America it makes one very sad. Set this poem is not about sadness, it is about
the unconditional love of a Merciful God who like a hound dog chases us. He will not abandon us and seeks us out always.If you know some of Francis story, then you know he went to college for 6 years
to be a physician and never practiced. When he was homeless a prostitute took
him off the streets as he was very ill and dying. She helped nurse him back to
health and then he ended up in a monastery.........a place he grew to know and
love God more and more.Please do not despair if your life has been difficult. The Hound of Heaven waitsfor you to turn to HIM! Do it now, share you heart with the ONE who really loves you.........He created you afterall!If you want to read the entire poem then go to this page.....http://www.houndsofheaven.com/thepoem.htm
The Hound of Heaven
Francis Thompson (1859-1907)I fled Him, down the nights and down the days;I fled Him, down the arches of the years; I fled Him, down the labyrinthine ways Of my own mind; and in the mist of tears I hid from Him, and under running laughter. Up vistaed hopes I sped; And shot, precipitated, Adown Titanic glooms of chasmed fears, From those strong Feet that followed, followed after. But with unhurrying chase, And unperturbèd pace, Deliberate speed, majestic instancy, They beat--and a Voice beat More instant than the Feet-- "All things betray thee, who betrayest Me."