The Ziklag Almost Daily 1.25.24

Beauty, Wisdom and Grace

Yes, I did.

I let you inside.

You found the place where I hide.

You found the real me.

We are a greater company than any of us imagine. Plus, the angels are with us.

📐🌊Almost Daily Sun Tzu

Victory without losses is the high art of war. It is not, “Did you win?” but, “Did you take what was his for your own?” and, “At what cost?” cf 3.3

📐🦋Almost Daily Maxim

The hunger to borrow more owns more sinister demons than debt. cf Pr 27:13

📐🦄Almost Daily Red Letters

The great skill of love invokes happy freedoms the self-seeking cannot even dream of. cf Mt 6:3

📐🦊Almost Daily Smarts

But it was too late. The damage was done.

I was two years into the experiment. More so, it was working.

I hadn’t just adopted Ahrens’ or Luhman’s system. I’d gone beyond.

I Will Teach You to Be Smart was originally conceived as a popularization of Ahrens’ work, something accessible for many, built to repristinate the scholar’s treatise. Then, the world turned, and it was conceived as a path to analog system management all but divorced from digital information. Along the way it picked up a hero-story about the refractive capacities of the 6x4’s notcard, got intermingled with tome-like interest in Hebrew vocabulary and ontologics, and chased more than a few rabbits down a wonderland of marvelously discovered holes.

Now, it’s about smartening up.

But what even is “Smart” anyway?

📐📦 Almost Daily Talk Them Into It

Make it your daily morning ritual to remember that in Jesus Christ you cannot die.

Remember that there is no end to this moment. Rejoice that it will never stop, but it will always get better. Preach to your own soul that this journey is worth it, if only because the Good King himself has said it to be so.

Jesus loves your life. Embrace your heritage as immortality. Strap on this fact like a sword in the morning. Use it to slash away at your dreams of vain glory, and find the illumination of the Christ who gave you today, just as it is, just as he wants it to be, for you, for us, for him.

Tell yourself out loud as often as possible about this precious identity, this being adopted into the bloodline of Jesus, this call to by baptized in his Name.

This crown is worth immeasurably more than rubies. This meal will satisfy you far more than a pot of stew. It faith may not still every storm like a charm, that’s because it’s so much better than that. Faith lives on promises, and a prayer.

If you are going to walk on water, it will be because you’re dancing in the belly of an ark he appointed for you.

The Christian does not preach to convert others, because the Christian knows that it is not his power to do so. The Christian preaches because it is in his power to preach, and the Holy Spirit, as by means of an instrument, with the distinction of bugle’s sound, converts the heathen and inspires the faithful.

You do not have the power to repent for someone else. But you can insist that the grace of God is a free gift for you, and you can stand upon that foundation even amid the ruins of the world. You can imitate Christ, the fearless King, because you are a member of his body. You are called one with the God who speaks.

Jesus, the King, who reigns by words, has rebirthed in you a new discipline, a discipleship, a way to be that is better than what was.

“Follow me.”

This is war. The demons tremble. Lift up your head, for it is our songs of thanksgiving that pave the way.

True religion is always given to you in order for you to give it away. The more that it goes in, the more that it goes out. The more that it goes out, the more that it goes in. The more that it goes in, the more inspired you must supernaturally be.

📐🪽From the Wyr Eld of Watergeist

Ringo’s eyes opened.

Gulp.

The flavor of juicy, living ecstasy was still there. But now a sense of shame came with it.

How very embarrassing.

Ringo’s eyes darted from side to side. Was anyone watching? This was simply unheard of. What would people think?

His cheeks were probably turning green. He could tell, because his stomach was rising up like a mountain of frustration and furious uncertainty.

But then. What was that again? That smell. Oh, the aroma.

Maybe just one more bite.