Gritting my teeth: and a prayer:

Frustration, upon frustration, upon frustration: and it is here that prayers taking your mind off these frustrations and directing it towards Christ start to mean something.


"The Lorica/St. Patrick's Breastplate Prayer"

    I bind unto myself today                                    (dog just threw up - this ain't no escapist prayer)
    the strong Name of the Trinity,
    by invocation of the same,
    the Three in One, and One in Three.

    I bind this day to me forever,
    by power of faith, Christ's Incarnation;
    his baptism in the Jordan river;
    his death on cross for my salvation;
    his bursting from the spiced tomb;
    his riding up the heavenly way;
    his coming at the day of doom:
    I bind unto myself today.

    I bind unto myself the power
    of the great love of cherubim;
    the sweet "Well done" in judgement hour;
    the service of the seraphim;
    confessors' faith, apostles' word,
    the patriarchs' prayers, the prophets' scrolls;
    all good deeds done unto the Lord,
    and purity of virgin souls.

    I bind unto myself today
    the virtues of the starlit heaven,
    the glorious sun's life-giving ray,
    the whiteness of the moon at even,
    the flashing of the lightning free,
    the whirling wind's tempestuous shocks,
    the stable earth, the deep salt sea,
    around the old eternal rocks.

    I bind unto myself today
    the power of God to hold and lead,
    his eye to watch, his might to stay,
    his ear to hearken to my need;
    the wisdom of my God to teach,
    his hand to guide, his shield to ward;
    the word of God to give me speech,
    his heavenly host to be my guard.

    Against the demon snares of sin,
    the vice that gives temptation force,
    the natural lusts that war within,
    the hostile men that mar my course;
    of few or many, far or nigh,
    in every place, and in all hours
    against their fierce hostility,
    I bind to me these holy powers.

    Against all Satan's spells and wiles,
    against false words of heresy,
    against the knowledge that defiles
    against the heart's idolatry,
    against the wizard's evil craft,
    against the death-wound and the burning
    the choking wave and poisoned shaft,
    protect me, Christ, till thy returning.

    Christ be with me, Christ within me,
    Christ behind me, Christ before me,
    Christ beside me, Christ to win me,
    Christ to comfort and restore me,
    Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
    Christ in quiet, Christ in danger,
    Christ in hearts of all that love me,
    Christ in mouth of friend and stranger.

    I bind unto myself the Name,
    the strong Name of the Trinity,
    by invocation of the same,
    the Three in One, and One in Three.
    Of whom all nature hath creation,
    eternal Father, Spirit, Word:
    praise to the Lord of my salvation,
    salvation is of Christ the Lord.


This is an ancient prayer, but I took it off the site here (I copied the old translation, which the site says is by Cecil Frances Alexander):
http://anglicanprayer.wordpress.com/2009/03/17/st-patricks-breastplate-prayer-aka-the-lorica/


I feel deeply, but lately I have not felt much of God. So I have to remind myself of this prayer, and be bound to all these things.

My Cluttered Self

More clutter musings. In a word, since Christmas break I have torn up many pieces of paper to be disposed of, and I have deleted multiple emails, and I have dreamed of all these great recipes I want to try that can use up the random leftovers in the kitchen pantry...but dang, is it ever hard to keep up now that vacation is over and I'm back at work. My Cluttered Self would note that this begs the question: Why invest so much time in picking through old things and organizing them all into "perfect" little categories that in actuality can never be perfect, instead of just living the life by which you accumulated them?

Because I Need. More. SPACE. Yes, I'm the stereotypical spread-out-American type who needs a little room to breathe. And with so many "I will get back to this sometime"'s that build up and become sources of guilt-ridden failure, I am held back from daring to move towards new adventures.

Adventures, e.g.: Actually being able to use my bedroom to make art in without having to create new piles in order to create space. What a concept!

A more detailed example: I am currently cleaning out my iTunes library so I have fewer songs that are perpetually on "skip" status. Being inclined towards the eclectic and the slightly eccentric, naturally I want to have all those cool random songs that no one has ever heard of. (Hipster?) But so many of the freebies that you download from Amazon or iTunes are absolutely terrible (or as one friend would say, "Crappity-crap-crap-crap".) There are gems amidst the rubbish, but not as many as I would hope.

My Cluttered Self would be afraid to delete a mediocre song because it could be that eccentric song that will perfectly fit round out my playlist and fit my mood that one random time when I feel like jamming to that sweet, sweet melody. But my new Anti-Clutter-Self is realizing how that actually prohibits me from listening to a lot of my music that maybe doesn't quite make my fave list, but is still music of value that I want to keep. See, when I'm faced with an overwhelming library of music, much of which I still haven't listened to yet (because they could end up being the crappy freebies instead of the good ones), I tend to overplay the safe songs that I know I like - and they become annoying through constant over-listening. If more of my music is stuff I know that I (even moderately) like, I can relax and let myself listen to a broader selection of the music I already have.

Yes, I know I overthink everything. Such is the burden of being an imperfect perfectionist.