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This blog is about all that touches me on a day to day basis, everything that inspires me enough to blog them, its about motivating stuff, about life, spirituality, quotes, lines, poems, that impress me, devotions, my views, even about events of life that bother me
Monday, June 25, 2012
Wednesday, June 20, 2012
Lot's Wife
GENESIS 19:23-26
23 By the time Lot reached Zoar, the sun had risen over the land. 24
Then the Lord rained down burning sulfur on Sodom and Gomorrah —from the Lord
out of the heavens. 25 Thus he overthrew those cities and the entire plain,
destroying all those living in the cities—and also the vegetation in the land.
26 But Lot’s wife looked back, and she became a pillar of salt.
Here is a beautiful poem depicting the consequences of crucial choices or decisions we sometimes make in our lives under most demanding situations.Lot's wife despite the escape from the horrendous situations and the repeated warnings from the angels, could not stand looking back, she was not bound for the unknown future that God had kept for her family, after this great escape,perhaps she was the reason in convincing Lot in settling at Sodom and Gommorah in the first place.
I find myself sometimes like her, knowing fully well the dangers iam attracted to look back, how many times , i find myself being chastened by the inner quiet voice of the Holy Spirit, the situation may not be this crucial as in above story, but in day to day life , the choices we make, are the ones having the rippling effect on the far greater consequential choice.
-Ruth Joyful
Lot's Wife
by Anna Akhmatova
translated by Max
Hayward and Stanley Kunitz
And the just man
trailed God's shining agent,
over a black mountain,
in his giant track,
while a restless voice
kept harrying his woman:
"It's not too
late, you can still look back
at the red towers of
your native Sodom,
the square where once
you sang, the spinning-shed,
at the empty windows
set in the tall house
where sons and
daughters blessed your marriage-bed."
A single glance: a
sudden dart of pain
stitching her eyes
before she made a sound . . .
Her body flaked into
transparent salt,
and her swift legs
rooted to the ground.
Who will grieve for
this woman? Does she not seem
too insignificant for
our concern?
Yet in my heart I
never will deny her,
who suffered death
because she chose to turn.
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