If I want to get to heaven

I have to walk away from hell
DECEMBER 8, 2011 10:49PM

The Christmas Guest

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This was given to me on  a cassette long ago and though I'm not a fan of country music I could listen to Reba McEntire read The Christmas Guest  over and over again. In fact I do. The last 60 seconds makes tears of joy run down my face. The poem was written by Helen Steiner Rice and I put the words below the video for those who are pressed for time.  I urge you to listen and perhaps you'll be filled with feelings of love, joy and warmth too. This year more than ever, those feelings are balm to the spirit.

       

The Story of the Christmas Guest
by Helen Steiner Rice

It happened one day at December's end
Some neighbors called on an old-time friend.

And they found his shop so meager and mean,
Made gay with a thousand boughs of green.

And old Conrad was sitting with face ashine.
When he suddenly stopped as he stitched the twine.

And he said "My friends at dawn today,
When the cock was crowing the night away,

The Lord appeared in a dream to me.
And He said, 'I'm coming your guest to be"

So I've been busy with feet astir,
Strewing my shop with branches of fir.

The table is spread and the kettle is shined,
And over the rafters the holly is twined.

And now I'll wait for my Lord to appear;
And listen closely so I will hear,

His steps as he nears my humble place.
And I'll open the door and I'll look on his face.

Then his friends went home and left Conrad alone,
For this was the happiest day he had known.

For long since his family had passed away.
And Conrad had spent many a sad Christmas Day.

But he knew with the Lord as his Christmas guest,
This Christmas would be the dearest and best.

So he listened with only joy in his heart,
And with every sound he would rise with a start,

And looked for the Lord to be at his door.
Like the vision that he had had a few hours before.

So he ran to the window after hearing a sound,
But all he could see on the snow covered ground

Was a shabby beggar whose shoes were torn.
And all his clothes were ragged and worn.

But old Conrad was touched and he went to the door
And he said, "Your feet must be cold and sore.

I have some shoes in my shop for you.
And I have a coat to keep you warmer, too."

So with grateful heart the man went away.
But Conrad noticed the time of day

And he wondered what made the dear Lord so late,
And how much longer he'd have to wait.

Then he heard another knock, and he ran to the door,
But it was only a stranger once more.

A bent old lady with a shawl of black,
And a bundle of kindling piled on her back.

But she asked only for a place to rest,
a place that was reserved, for Conrad's great guest.

But her voice seemed to plead, "Don't send me away,
Let me rest for awhile this Christmas Day."

So Conrad brewed her a steaming cup
And told her to sit at the table and sup.

After she had left, he was filled with dismay
For he saw that the hours were slipping away

The Lord had not come as He said He would
And Conrad felt sure he had misunderstood.

When out of the stillness he heard a cry.
"Please help, me and tell me - Where am I?"

So again he opened his friendly door.
And stood disappointed as twice before.

It was a child who had wandered away,
And was lost from her family on Christmas Day.

Again Conrad's heart was heavy and sad,
But he knew he could make this little girl glad.

So he called her in and he wiped her tears,
And he quieted all her childish fears.

Then he led her back to her home once more.
Then as he entered his own darkened door,

He knew that the Lord was not coming today,
For the hours of Christmas, had all passed away.

So he went to his room, and he knelt down to pray.
He said, "Lord, why did you delay?

What kept You from coming to call on me?
I wanted so much Your face to see."

Then softly, in the silence, a voice he heard.
"Lift up your head - I have kept My word.

Three times my shadow crossed your floor.
Three times I came to your lowly door.

I was the beggar with bruised cold feet;
I was the woman you gave something to eat;
I was the child on the homeless street.

Three times I knocked, three times I came in,
And each time I found the warmth of a friend.


Of all the gifts, love is the best.
I was honored to be your Christmas guest.
"

I love God and it's a huge struggle for me to write anything about Him. What you think about me isn't that big a deal, I'm just a human being and don't expect others to think I'm more than that. Enough stupid and horrible stuff humans do and say gets blamed on God so it's overwhelming to try to write about God. I'm pretty intelligent but I can't pretend to know much, especially about God. I have no idea why, but God's doesn't just appear on earth to do everything for us when we need it, so it seems we are to help each other.

What I read in my bible is not what God is supposed to come down and do, it's what I'm supposed to do, the actions I am responsible for.  I'm supposed to work as hard as I'm able and control myself. I'm supposed to be his hands and feet to help someone else when they need it. I'm supposed to speak comforting words that strengthen others. I'm supposed to give away love.

I'm a little like old Conrad, I'm eagerly waiting to see God and hear his voice, his words of Love. I've asked God for countless things many times, to send help when I've been hungry, poor, injured, alone or scared. I've asked him to send help to someone else when I can't be there, or it's something I can't do. Sometimes someone shows up,  other times whoever is around is too busy, or it's too much for them to do, or they're not interested, or they don't want to help. 

In the past when I was weak or tired I asked God to give me more strength and I found a way to help myself and others whenever they needed it. Others might credit me as being strong but it's God, because I'm not that big, strong or impressive. I've been sick and worn out the last three years, I couldn't help others or myself. I'm slowly healing and getting stronger every day. There weren't many around to lend a hand or offer kind words. Criticism, blame, mean words and indifference made me both physically sicker and more depressed. I've received a lot of love and comfort on OS and it's helped me get back on my feet again. I couldn't do it alone.

One night when Jeff was here I started to stress about something and I could feel my heart starting to beat too quickly. I feel helpless when I have an SVT and most of the time nothing I do stops it. So I started to be a little freaked out and told him. I was thinking about getting up and taking a beta blocker when he put his arms around me and started stroking my hair. I don't remember what he was saying, I just remember it was soothing, I guess I relaxed because it went away. He could have been a jerk and told me not to be a baby and just take a pill, he could have been indifferent or annoyed, instead he was there for me.

When anyone came and needed help, I saw the face of God and was blessed to be able to give. When others came to give help, strength and love I heard the voice of God. I agree with the poem, of all the gifts love is the best. There's nothing else on earth I'd rather exchange.

I wrote this last week but couldn't push publish, somehow I couldn't delete it either. Erika K asked what I was doing for Christmas and I appreciate her coming back to think of me. Though the financial picture is bleak, I learned not to care about that years ago. There's much freedom in not caring.

Erika, I do have something special to look forward to, I’m going to be with someone who really wants to see me this year. I’m going to visit Jeff. For the first time in years I find myself saying Merry Christmas and meaning it. This year I feel like I’m the one who is Blessed with the best gift of all. 

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I've always liked Reba, and though I'm not a Christian by any stretch, I like this poem too. Isn't there a line in the Bible about "As you do to the least of these, you do to me"?
nana, well I don't want people to start thinking I'm like a christian, I'm trying to lead a Christ-like life and that bar is much higher. The reason I love the poem is that's my favorite parable, the story of separating the sheep and the goats from Matthew 25:31-46. The line references the end of his speaking to the sheep at his right.

34“Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. 35 For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, 36 I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’

37 “Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? 38 When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? 39 When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’

40 “The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’

When I was little it made me happy to think that even though I couldn't do anything special, I could do something for God. Hearing Reba tell it still makes me get all weepy.
The message of Christmas is to love. You have expressed it and it sounds like you are living it. I wish more people believed in the message it would be such a better world.
rated with love
It is, of course, a wonderful thing for living creatures to be concerned about each other, but it is not necessary to credit it to anything else but a basic delight in all life which is the wonder of this very minor planet.
you ARE god, and we all are. No person walking, sitting. crawling.. has any less or more JESUS like. or Godlike (or choose.).. abilities, tendencies.. we all haveTHAT. It's total democracy on a GODLY scale

We all have IT. IT is right there in front of us. IT was never a mystery. WE make IT all mysterious. Not a mystery. Remember yourself as a child
So glad a visit to Jeff at Christmas time is in order...
Merry Christmas, L'heure : )
WE will ... hang.......... out? God is good (I use God as a kinda catch-all. we know) My goodness.. I will get you drunk! Jeff... pfft. HA
Poetess, yes, it's about love and you're right it would be a better world.

Jan, it's true, it's not necessary but I can be happy this way and others can be happy their way and as long as we're all concerned about each other and the planet... no one gets hurt.

Just Thinking, Merry Christmas and Love to you!


trig, everyone is born equal in spirit, but some choose to be like B of A, some choose to be like Jesus. We are all connected and I knew right from wrong from the time I was very small, I have forgotten nothing. My mom said I was a very strange child, always troubled by war and injustice long before I started school. I wish I could forget. I don't really like being drunk, and so you know, I'm a puker! You missed my Halcion & Versed morning, none of which I remember but I guess I took pictures of the inside of my mouth and tried to IM nana by sending him an invitation to join. Then I spent the rest of yesterday taking hydrocodone and naps. I can't wait to meet you, if nana said I was really sweet in person don't believe him, I'm awful and scary.
Now this sets the Holiday spirit and more. You obviously have a heart of gold and a good sense of flair.
Algis, thank you, it's a lovely sentiment and I wanted to share it. You have a heart of gold and gentle spirit. I hope this holiday season finds you in good health and well loved.
My grandmother adored Helen Steiner Rice. It's nice to be reminded of her this way. And good to know you're getting back on your feet again.
Wondeful. So glad things are looking up for you.
I am so glad you will be with the one you love this Christmas. I really liked this post. Merry Christmas!
Sending you the most love I can muster with only one cup of coffee in me dear friend.
These words are lovely to me and head straight to my heart Blue.
You don't have to be Christian to understand the universal life force that feeds us all. Calling it god does not matter. It is there for us all to tap into when we feel weak inside. Take care and may the trip be safe and happiness find you when you reach for it...
There is so much hope and love in this post. Have a wonderful Christmas season.~r
“ ... he put his arms around me and started stroking my hair.
... he was there for me.”

Oh Bleue ... love ... love ... love ...
always this ... is the greatest ... warmest ... loveliest ... gift ... of all ...

... essence to essence ... touching of souls ... however and wherever even here ... ... the touching ... is offered ... and ... reaches ... us ...
You have no idea how happy I am for you. I loved the poem and your words. Love is everything, not just romantic love but every kind. Merry Christmas L'Heure. You deserve to have a beautiful Christmas. Love your new avatar. -R-
Thanks for sharing this poem & your thoughts, l'Heure Bleue. Wishing you lots of peace & happiness this season and always.
My wife is watching Reba's old show, right now (everyday), she loves her. A beautiful poem.
Well, you have a put a tear in this old Scrooge's eye today. Humbug.

;-) Have yourself a merry little Christmas!
Margaret, that explains much about you, glad I brought back some memories of her. Slow but sure, with friends to help me laugh. Thank you.

Patrick, thank you. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays Across the miles.

My Heart, I am so lucky and it's nice we are both doing well this year. I wish everyone on earth was as lucky as we are.

Mission, so, so good to know you are safe again. The God I love is big enough to want everyone cared for. May happiness find you when you reach for it.

Joan, sometimes I play the CD when it's not Christmas, the story reminds me there is Love on earth. You have a Lovely season.

Jonathan, big smiles for you!

anna1liese, I remember what you said. You were right, it was good having someone put their arms around me.

Christine, you put it beautifully. What a difference between last Christmas and this one. Thank you.

clay ball, thank you. Peace and joy to you and yours.

Jack Heart, you better be.

scanner, Reba is terrific! The poem is lovely, what a world it could bring. Peace and love to you and Terri.

Jeanette, yeah, I know, hopefully it was a nice cleansing tear. You have a Merry Christmas too.
Merry Christmas and safe travels. You'll have great time I'm sure.
Very sweet message for the season and thank you for sharing it.
You choked me up with this post, l'Heure. I'm sorry you have had a rough go of it these past few years and have felt so alone. I am wishing you a beautiful Christmas, sounds like it will be. xo
Be good to others as a way to feel joy and grace is so fundamental and yet so vastly ignnored. I just had such a great moment of it , last weekend, but like you said-- it is hard to write about god. I never listen to Country music and have trouble getting into songs with "Lord" in them but these lyrics made me cry . Beautiful is beautiful.
"And he wondered what made the dear Lord so late,
And how much longer he'd have to wait."
So simple and trite seeming but so powerful.

I do believe that the true face of god is us aspiring to goodness and following through. Who the hell knows. I just know that wanting to be good and doing good seems to inspire moments that transcend everyday miseries.
Wishing you the finest of holidays and everydays, Doris. But, you know that already.
You know you and I think the same and there is not a day that goes by that we try and extend love to people. Some don't get it but it does not make us stop.
Loved this Doris and Happy Holidays to you and your loved ones.
HUGGGGGGGGGG
Bleue there have been times working in health care where I had to force myself to touch someone, for many reasons, maybe they smelled awful or were dirty, whatever the reason, I always try to think of them as god, I grew up Catholic and that is one reading I remember truly , when Jesus said he will not come dressed as a king, it has helped me quite a few times to have compassion when it was difficult. Thanks for this today.
While I don't celebrate the Christmas, I do celebrate love, and being with your beloveds. You will have an unforgettable holiday with yours I'm betting. There will be posts. Don't eat the funny looking gray sandwich on the plane, even if you're hungry!
In Canada I met some serious Amish.
They settled in `New Brunswick, CA..
They will survive if Trucker no deliver.

I mentioned the Amish Community.
She dressed in old classic Amish style.
I remember her wishing there were no:
`
dress and religious labels. Yes. No labels.
No labels on ties that could be lynch ropes.
Especially - No self-arrogant human labels.
`
She insisted that "we people are only humans."
She spoke ref the 1st century and Roman murder.
She was earthen, lovely, and I have her photograph.
She did not have a lil' puppy mill. She sure do cook.
People who judge and spiel hate lead a dogs life too.

I ask three dogs
`
"what do you think?"
These times are ruff.
and
`
politicos bark up tree
and smell like dung
from smelly polecat
I was quoting Satan from ‘Paradise lost’ not Arno The Nazi Prince. I had errands to run and this is going to take a while.
Beautiful. This was a wonderful thing to post and I am glad you did. I wish you the very best holiday. Have a safe journey and a lovely time.
Your post and the comment thread have made my heart soar. The excitement that surrounds your visit to Jeff and getting to meet Steve is a feeling I haven't had in a long while, but I absolutely do remember how delicious it feels. What you wrote here is a far more eloquent version of what I tried to say in my own post today. It doesn't matter if we call ourselves Christians or Jews or Muslims or Buddhists; what matters is how we apply the tenets of those belief systems to our daily lives. I wish all of you the best holiday experience ever.

Lezlie
First off, you could now pass for a hot 35! You should look your finest, the groom is on his way and we all have a wedding to attend. I have to admit that in the last minute of the poem a teardrop streaked my face. Everybody comes to a fork in the road. You clicked post instead of delete. I will see you at the Crossroads.

Enough cryptic melodramatics!
From grades 1 – 5 I attended the finest Catholic school in NYC. Every couple of weeks the nuns would put the 30 or so kids in my class’s names in a receptacle and draw one. That child got a statue of Jesus,Mary, Joseph or one of the Arch Angels. I would always win. It got so I would no longer participate in most of the drawings because it was a foregone conclusion that I would win and my room looked like a miniature cathedral with no more room for statuary. Later I would break all the statues in a hormone fueled fit of rage but that’s another story all together. The nuns started looking at me very strangely and I remember they used to rub me for luck. I was told that I should pray for an end to the human suffering and the Biafran and Vietnam wars. Every night I did so dutifully. I was such an ardent believer that I wanted to do battle for the Lord against his enemy's so I demanded an audience with Satan so that I could confront him. I guess I never really believed he would show up because when he did, right there in my mothers kitchen, I was horrified. It was for a fleeting second but it was very real. He did not have horns and a pitchfork like I expected. He was a hulking humanoid figure that looked like he was made out of glowing molten rock.

Like most little kids I loved baseball. My team was the Mets the worst team that ever played the game. Around the end of the sixties I started changing my praying habits. The Vietnam and Biafran Wars were still raging and now there was also starvation in Bangladesh, but an end to those calamity's is not what I wanted. What I really wanted was for the Mets to win the World Series. I became insistent with God, children can be so petulant. The year was 1969. That year the Mets suddenly went from being the worst team that ever played the game to winning the World Series. It is still considered the most inexplicable event that ever occurred in sports and the 69 Mets are known to this day as the Miracle Mets.

My life began to change after that. Once when I was learning to ride a bicycle something seemed to seize control of it and propel it a half a block down East 2ed street with me frozen onto it and unable to jump off. Just as the bike hit the curb to Fort Hamilton Parkway something seemed to snatch me off the bicycle, I landed on the sidewalk and the bicycle crossed 2 lanes on the parkway between traffic and suddenly made a U turn and headed right back to me jumping the curve where it fell gently right next to me. I began to dread going to bed. Their was scratching from inside my pillow, taping on the walls, and I would awake at night to see strange apparitions at the foot of my bed. One time there was a dwarf hooded in a long dark cloak dancing what I now know is called widdershins. I was frozen with terror and it lasted for quite some time till I summoned the nerve to leap from the bed and dash into my parents room. I refused to sleep in that room for some time after that and would sneak into my sisters bed in the next room as soon as my parents were asleep.

My faithful Weimaraner had to be dragged into my room, with his claws digging into the ground, by my father. He would spend the night trying to sneak out whenever he thought I was asleep. he was never there when I woke up. I awakened one morning on the floor with a broken collar bone and was in a caste for months. My youngest sister was crying out incessantly one night for permission from my parents to get up and get a glass of water and she heard a mans voice come from my room telling her to get up and get her glass of water. It all ended when one night I dreamed of a whirlwind of darkness that I knew instinctually was evil itself. It seemed invincible and all consuming and it came for me in my dream, enveloping me. When I woke up I was in a state of panic and when I went downstairs to tell my mother about the dream. She was in the kitchen preparing breakfast. As I started to tell her suddenly there was a pounding that seemed to echo through the entire house. I think I actually screamed that it was coming for me but it turned out to be my little sister tumbling down the stairs. She had overheard from upstairs and wanted to know who or what it was that had told her to get that glass of water. The haunting of my childhood ceased after that. In fact I completely forgot about it, or at least pushed it to the back of my mind where it could be dismissed as the overactive imagination of a child. My teenage years were filled with drugs, fishing, baseball, the relentless pursuit of girls, and fitful sleep but that would end too.

You see Bleue it has never been a question of whether God exists or not for me. It is a question of who's side I am on.
I love this - such an upbeat post - and I'm very happy for you and Jeff that you will be together after a long time. Wish you all the happiness and joy of the season. Lovely poem, l'HB.
R♥
Jack, what a strange conversation to openly have but I understand too well what you are saying. I chose my own path decades ago. Yes outcomes can be changed, but there is always a price we pay so choose well what you make happen for you will pay either way. Fits of temper with the head can be managed, be very careful of temper fits of the heart which are not easily controlled. Knock and the door shall be opened but think carefully which door you knock on. Neither door is easily closed, one leads only to endless hunger of the soul, the other leads to fullness.

As my mother would say "do not tempt the devil." He is always hungry and would like to use one like you for his gain, God is full and wants to have you to Love. It will take many asking for peace with all their hearts, but it can be done. It can be had. It was always within reach. I pray with all my heart you choose Love.

The comments have given me more joy, I'm running late and will be back to answer later.
I waited all day to read this. I wanted to end on a good note, and this is it. I'm glad you're going to be with good people this Christmas.
He knew that the Lord was not coming today,
For the hours of Christmas, had all passed away.

So he went to his room, and he knelt down to pray.
He said, "Lord, why did you delay?

What kept You from coming to call on me?
I wanted so much Your face to see."

Then softly, in the silence, a voice he heard.
"Lift up your head - I have kept My word.
so he does.


he looks kinda slowly and not fullface in the mirror
to shave.
eyes.
in his own eyes.

face built on eye.
alsoknownas, you're always a delight. You have a Merry Christmas too. I'm always safe, I suspect the angels are now heavily invested in me ;~)

Miguela, I hope many show up to love and care for you and your husband.

Erika, nothing washes away sorrow more than joy. I feel very lucky and blessed and that's what I'm focused on. You have a beautiful Christmas too.

fernsy, "Be good to others as a way to feel joy and grace is so fundamental and yet so vastly ignnored." You said it, with or without religion it's so fundamental and a way to transcend some of lifes many miseries. It really doesn't have to be so brutal, it could all be much sweeter just by sharing. Love to you.

Linda, we are much the same inside and I'm learning to be brave again and let the love show. Thanks for showing me the way. HUGGGGGGG to you!

rita, that's why so many think nurses are angels. I have this thought that God will send someone to my hands and I won't lend them. I don't want to make God sadder than he already must be.

greenheron, if could only celebrate one thing I'd celebrate love over the birthday. Look to trig for candid posts (eek!), and that sandwich better be gone. Have a Merry Love Celebration!

Art, I still don't like labels or titles, I'm just a plain human being. Sad times, you remind me of the wisdom of Matthew 7:6 "Give not that which is holy to the dogs, neither cast you your pearls before swine, lest they trample them under their feet, and turn again and rend you." Smelly polecats indeed. Thank you for coming by.

Jack, Arno the Nazi Prince, hahahahaha! They do like to breed strong leadership.

Sheila, it's a lovely thing to share and I knew this was the right place. I can't wait to see photos of your holiday and your warm home.

Lezlie, and yours made my heart warm. I just followed the beauty of a poem and am glad to share it. May we all have Christmas Guests of any faith or no faith, and be lucky enough to share warmth. And yes, I'm as excited as a child, I've never gone anywhere for Christmas and now I'm going for this!

Fusun, thank you. I'm finding the poems I like are the ones my heart can hear. Love and Joy to you.

phyllis, I'm glad you wound up in a joyful place. I hope the whole season is joyful for you. Thank you.



James, I always start to cry when she says

"What kept You from coming to call on me?
I wanted so much Your face to see."

Then softly, in the silence, a voice he heard.
"Lift up your head - I have kept My word."

It reminds me that I've never been completely alone, somewhere, he's always there, I just have to look.
James, I always start to cry when she says

"What kept You from coming to call on me?
I wanted so much Your face to see."
the face of god is human.


Then softly, in the silence, a voice he heard.
"Lift up your head - I have kept My word."

It reminds me that I've never been completely alone,
somewhere, he's always there, I just have to look.


yah world is a sacred place. john edwards right.
also puritans

and especially blake.


Blake is a surname or a given name which originated from Old English. Its derivation is uncertain; it could come from "blac", a nickname for someone who had dark hair or skin, or from "blaac", a nickname for someone with pale hair or skin.[1] Another theory is that it is a corruption of "Ap Lake", meaning "Son of Lake".[2]
Blake was the name of one of the 14 Tribes of Galway in Ireland. These Blakes were descendants of Richard Caddell, alias Blake, who was involved in the Norman Invasion of Ireland in 1169.
The Origins of the name Blake is also considered to be Old Norse first appearing in England Yorkshire, possibly derived from the word Blaker referring to a village and a former municipality of Akershus county, Norway (east of Oslo).
Blake often refers to the British poet, painter and printmaker William Blake (1757–1827) or to the contemporary figurative artist Blake (sculptor).
I read some of your posts, I am going through all my friends blogs since I have been away. You write about some interesting things. Do you ever write about your family? I always find families interesting.
James, everything on earth is sacred, children and the wise know it. I didn't know anything about the name Blake or either Blake, I love how much I can learn here just by being present. Thank you.

Kathy, wow, what a lovely thing to say, my family is more interesting than most but not in a good way. Most of the posts I wrote about my family were pretty dark and I deleted much of what I couldn't look at for long. Those you find may have comments closed, my youngest was stalking me online last year. I apologize for the writing in advance I was ill and having trouble forming thoughts.

Maybe someday I will write more when I can look back from farther away. The sheep story is funny and is set in Cairo in the 1950's, the Angel one is about my beloved grandmother. I think one of them will make you smile.

http://open.salon.com/blog/lheure_bleue/2010/12/05/a_sheep_fell_from_the_sky

http://open.salon.com/blog/lheure_bleue/2010/12/11/my_angel_-_open_call_remembering_an_angel
It must be observed at the outset, that the phenomenon we investigate — Universal History — belongs to the realm of Spirit. The term "World," includes both physical and psychical Nature. Physical Nature also plays its part in the World's History, — and attention will have to be paid to the fundamental natural relations thus involved. But Spirit, and the course of its development, is our substantial object.



hegel. stick around dylan sez in when the night comes
fallin fr the sky.
It must be observed at the outset, that the phenomenon we investigate — Universal History — belongs to the realm of Spirit. The term "World," includes both physical and psychical Nature. Physical Nature also plays its part in the World's History, — and attention will have to be paid to the fundamental natural relations thus involved. But Spirit, and the course of its development, is our substantial object.



hegel. stick around dylan sez in when the night comes
fallin fr the sky.
Ist darauf hinzuweisen, zu Beginn, dass das Phänomen untersuchen wir — Universal History — gehört in den Bereich des Geistes. Der Begriff "Welt" umfasst sowohl physische als auch psychische Natur. Physischer Natur spielt auch ihrerseits in der Weltgeschichte, — und Aufmerksamkeit müssen die grundlegenden natürlichen Beziehungen so beteiligten geschenkt werden. Aber Geist und seine Entwicklung ist unsere wesentlichen Objekt.
Ist darauf hinzuweisen, zu Beginn, dass das Phänomen untersuchen wir — Universal History — gehört in den Bereich des Geistes. Der Begriff "Welt" umfasst sowohl physische als auch psychische Natur. Physischer Natur spielt auch ihrerseits in der Weltgeschichte, — und Aufmerksamkeit müssen die grundlegenden natürlichen Beziehungen so beteiligten geschenkt werden. Aber Geist und seine Entwicklung ist unsere wesentlichen Objekt.
It's been a bit too long since I've checked out your musings on OS, but I'm so happy and blessed that I came back for this one! After reading the poem and your comments on it, Bleue, I know that the poem will be part of my Christmas Day church service! I had never heard of it or heard it presented before, and it has truly touched me where it is best to be touched, my heart! Thank you! May you have a blessed Christmas time with some of those you love and who love you just as much! I wish I could be there as well! But, as we know, we will meet and enjoy each other with much love!
I live in my safe bubble and forget my older posts, sigh.

***James, everything in the physical world dies away, even great monuments become ashes and dust. We will not take our bodies or objects with us either.

The thing that crosses between the physical world and the spirit world is Love. What a truly remarkable thing.

***Arnie, the poem is lovely and reminds me that I can do things to make God feel my love. I'm glad you're going to use it for the service. I think God must be sad a lot and that makes me feel bad. It's been a long time since I've been treated with such love and kindness so I'm truly looking forward to this Christmas. I wish you were going to be there too but I'm looking forward to summer.

Of all the gifts, Love is the best. I feel very blessed.