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The soul is the human being, and the expression that results is a manifestation of its beauty, or its tragic deformity.

Today a volcano, Mt. St. Helens, is building magma beneath the surface, and the Almighty is telling us something with a sobriety only He can convey.  If we do not Be, we chain our soul and soon we die, or explode from years of forces moving within, finding a way to be released.

True life is a cathartic experience of seeking to free the soul that was meant to be when we were knit together in our mother’s womb.  The choices we make are driven by that journey we are destined to live – the journey to live as we were created to live.  Wrong choices enchain the soul’s freedom to be.  Right choices free it.  But nevertheless, the choices are still driven by that inborn, God-given drive to be, and freely so.

Many have chosen not to live.  Some of these have chosen not to live by choosing paths of least resistance so as not to forge their freedom, lest sacrifice be too painful a sting.  Others have chosen not to live by feeding a compulsive addiction foisted on them by doctrines of man - right and wrong, “truth” and “lie”, majors and minors - lest they risk a peek over the terrifying cliffs of freedom.  But maybe we all dance with these flames, in seasons, and waste precious moments to these spiritual games.

This collection of psalms reflect many expressions along this journey.  Some are expressions of pain, and some are expressions of joy.  Some are expressions of compassion, and some are expressions of fury.  But all come from that same well – a well of my own intimacy with a God Who wants, deeper that any desire, His creation to be restored to that original masterpiece He painted before the dawn of time.

That painting is finished, now.  The last stroke was painted by His son, with His own brush dipped in blood.  It’s a painting full of color and beauty.  The question then is put out for all of us to answer: will you participate in the masterpiece?  Living is the answer to this question.

I truly acknowledge and understand that none of these thoughts and intimations are new to anyone’s soul.  Indeed, I truly believe that they are as old as the hills that surround my home.  My prayer for you, the reader, is that they strike you as a hammer to a tuning fork.  And I pray that the notes that resound are notes that bring healing to your body, restoration to your heart, and revelation to your spirit.

In the Name above all names,

Christopher Choate