The Book of Harold by Owen Egerton

The Hot Tub Incident

..... "Music is like that."
"but I don't even like James Taylor. I hate James Taylor. It wasn't the music. It was the crowd and the girl and the weed. It was all of it. It was the moment."
He nodded. " Like you happen upon this secret--- you're suprised to find it. So clear, so real. But you can't hold on to it or even look at it straight on. It's gone as soon as you try."
"Yes."
"And you're left without even the words to describe it, but you know it was there and it was what you are meant for."
"That's it."
"God making us hungry for God."
"I'd like to know God," I said. I said it casually, letting my hand skim the water's surface.
"You're sure?" He leaned back and looked up at the sky.
"Yeah. I want that purpose. I want to be a part of it, you know?"
"That's not God, That's just tinsel on the tree."
"Sure, okay. But I do want God."
"What does that feel like, to want God, Blake?"
"I don't know. It feels like wanting. I don't know."
"Do you want to know? Because I can show you."
"Yeah, I want to know." As soon as I said that, Harold pounced. He grabbed me by the back of my neck and pushed me under the water. The hot wter jets and bubbles thundered in my head. At first i thought it must be a joke and tried not to panic. I watched the drain. A minute passed, I started to struggle. I was a strong man, but Harold had me pinned. I let go a mouthful of air. My lungs tightened and i could feel blood blue, oxygenless blood scream through my heart. I threw out my arms, grabbing and clawing. I scratched Harold's hand and saw his blood cloud the churning water. But Harold didn't loosen his grip. My throat tensed and my head pulsed. I knew I couldn't hold out much longer. I knew I would try to breathe in the water. My body was going to suck in no matter how hard I tried to tell it not to. i was going to drown, thrashing away like one of my kittens. Harold let my ears above the water. My mouth and nose were still under. "There," he said. "Like you want your next breath. That's how it feels to want God." Then I was up gasping and crying. Harold leaned back. That was the first time it occurred to me that this walk might end poorly.


LIKE YOU WANT YOUR NEXT BREATH. THAT'S HOW IT FEELS TO WANT GOD.

HolyyloH

We had a prayer night at church and we sang this song tonight. One of the verses goes.. Holy are you God Holy is your name With everything I've got my heart will sing How I love you... and this was my thought...

No matter how I feel I have made a choice to put my heart in Jesus and ultimately my heart will sing how Holy our God is even if my brain and mouth aren't saying it. Eventually my heart will start to sing the loudest between the two...

Jazz Like Blue

This is from the book Blue Like Jazz

"I suppose what I wanted back then is what every Christian wants, whether they understand themselves or not. What I wanted was God. I wanted tangible interaction. But even more than that, to be honest, I wanted to know who I was. I felt like a robot or an insect or a mysterious blob floating around in the universe. I believed if I could contact God, He would be able to explain who and why I was. The days and weeks before a true commitment to Jesus can be terrible and lonely. I think I was feeling bitter about the human experience. I never asked to be human. Nobody came to the womb and explained the situation to me, asking for my permission to go into the world and live and breathe and eat and feel joy and pain. I started thinking about how odd it was to be human, how we are stuck inside this skin, forced to be attracted to the opposite sex, forced to eat food and use the rest room and then stuck to the earth by gravity. I think maybe I was going crazy or something. I spent an entire week feeling bitter because I couldn't breathe underwater. I told God I wanted to be a fish. I also felt a little bitter about sleep. Why do we have to sleep? I wanted to be able to stay awake for as long as I wanted, but God had put me in this body that had to sleep. Life no longer seemed like an experience of freedom."

A lot of times, if you've ever actually talked to me, I get really stranged out by who I am. I think I get out of body experiences more than most people and sometimes I feel as if I'm not real. I know I'm real and I know Jesus is living inside of me but this body is only my temporary home. It was just nice to read someone else being angry that we weren't born with a blow hole so we could be underwater....

... I wish I had a blow hole.....