The evening air, the fading light, the warmth, mid summer, sitting around a table, trees to the left, grass at the feet, a beer in one hand, a few friends around. They were meeting with a Spirit, a stranger but a friend, the power of the universe was in their hands. The words of old were lost in translation, one of them utters, they all agree. The number of wars fought in the name of God, all because of the translations. Every way you look at it, it has to be a flowing river, and it has to be allowed it’s natural course. Was he talking about the river, the words, or was it themselves. He them made a triangle with his hands, it’s this simple. We are all part of the living earth, given talents and energies, how we respond is the same plight as the gardener and the crops, it’s what you put into the experiences that decides the outcome. They looked at each other, they were all young fathers, there children’s future depended on what they did, with the garden.
Imagine it, you can say what you like about Jesus, and be forgiven, just imagine it, well it’s written, imagine it, you can’t say anything about the Holy Spirit, that offends God, just imagine it, well it’s written, the border that can’t be crossed, even the demon knows it, amen, just imagine it. Imagine it, the Spirit comes from God, just imagine it, the creator of the universe, Solomon didn’t have to imagine it, now imagine that, so imagine the prayers of the ancient prophets, and the modern day efforts to taint love, and resting places of Holy Spirit. As said all those years ago, the Helper arrives, it had, there was no need to imagine it, amen.
It was a media circus, Adolf Hitler never used chemical weapons, George Bush invaded Iraq because of chemical weapons, while those responsible for manufacturing chemical weapons find all the excuses, odd to say the least, meanwhile, the oceans grow toxic, water supplies are threatened, children born with more problems, while the chemical industry thrives, while terrorists try to gain access to chemical weapons, it really is chemical alley, everyone out there is addicted to the stuff , can’t live with them can’t survive without them, chemicals, meanwhile, dubious companies are paid to dump chemical toxins in the oceans, usually in third world places, while there are plastic islands the size of Europe floating in the oceans, all because they banned the old marijuana plant, the provider of such great providence. All the while, in certain nations, they have been using the revered plant to help people with illness, a fact being recognized throughout the world, after the initial damage is done, how enlightening, amen. We are living on chemical alley he sighed, same way the truth about God Most High was denied by many, till the miracles came along.
It moves, i can feel it, it’s all around me, can’t you see it, she wondered if they were listening, her friends came to visit her, she was in a hospital for the mentally traumatized, they could not understand, they were not believers. Solomon wondered how many such souls were incarcerated, hidden away from the world, for the thoughts they held, the belief they held dear. He thought of those places, where people were picked up, for no good reason, just because they professed their faith in the above. Solomon wondered how the early Christians felt, and then read the story of Islam, and the wisdom of the green goblet, written to remind us of days like these. God acts in the strangest of ways, to remind the living of the challenge they faced, and the struggle to remain firm in the face of such obstructions. Keeping them from the general masses was a way of removing the threat of spiritual help from above, demons being well aware of the heavenly threat, as the seed of love was the connection point with God Most High. damage it, hurt it, demean it, abuse it, taunt them, harass them, imprison them, and eventually kill them. It was written, it was not going to be easy, just remember He said, if they hated me first, they will think the same of you, but don’t forget one thing. I will send the helper, the Holy Spirit, just believe and it will all work out, amen.
Solomon encountered the Holy Spirit. He prayed and it worked, remained on the path. In the Holy Name, those with the Spirit could cast out demons. Solomon demonstrated it regularly. Just remain in the zone and don’t give up, help is at hand. Once the Spirit is strong, there is help about. In the world, there were extremist forces hoping to harm the believers, those who wanted the demon to remain in charge. Solomon was adding his prayer, defeat them heavenly father, send them a sign,
It’s a beautiful day, the days events point that way, everyone is dressed to the nines, and that means there is going to be a party, a celebration. She peers out the window, there is an emptiness inside, the heart cannot lie no matter how much we pretend, the distractions of wealth and fame can’t fill the void inside. She appears beautiful, she is, but feels dirty inside, the heart has not been nourished for a long time. You will get over it her father says, everyone does. In an hour, her father will be with his mistress, and in the space of an hour will get his immediate thrills, forget about it, till the next fix is required.
Solomon sighed, they use, they abuse, they provide all sorts of poisons, it’s the way, or the way they have been
conditioned to think. The males just find the fix easier, the vulnerable young women they meet, and others they think they can use. Solomon called them demons. How the princess would swap it all for inner happiness, but wasn’t that the message of Jesus, there is another way. He was mocked regularly for stating his faith, for stating that Love was the way to the Father. But Jesus said the very same, he was in good company. The night he was visited by Holy Spirit changed the world, it was the proverbial landline to God, stay in the zone and be amazed, he is every single day, amen.
maybe, she twirls, the dress does not look right, the mirror is full length, she stands there, head left head right, head up head down, doesn’t feel right, damn, she marches to the bedroom, a bundle of clothes on the bed, she reaches into the press, what now she sighs, four to choose from, she’s a size eight, wants to be a seven, grabs the navy jump suit, quickly changes, returns to the mirror, half an hour later, she makes up her mind. A pout of the lips, cool she smiles, on her way to an awards ceremony, wants to look her best. Whats the hurry, in traffic, taxi driver watches her reaction in the mirror, hyped up chick or what, she is hopping, can’t this bus go faster, is getting nervous, the delay is killing her. what’s the rush!.
famine chick, in her small tent, the aid convoy hasn’t arrived yet, was promised a week ago, will it hurry up, her child is cramping with the hunger, the water milk diet not sustaining enough. She doesn’t mind, it’s her child she worries about.
I’d like to announce the winner of the new female singer of the year, and the winner is, she bursts in the door, the audience turns around, the noise she makes would scatter a flock of birds. her day is made, she arrived on the stroke of recognition, the fuss with the make up and stuff worth the wait.
She pulls her hair, ringlets, cutie, she fawns for the audience, opens her mouth the way all the bright teeth people do, pauses. i would like to dedicate my award to the ..
The child is crying, she is fraught with anxiety, she holds the baby, one eye on the door, a miracle she pleads, how can i stop the suffering of my little child. She shakes the baby, talking to the wee one all the time, she’d feed him from her breast, but they are hard and tight, no milk in there, she needs to feed to provide for the young one.
i’d like to thank my agent, and my family for getting me this far, without them i would have got nowhere. She bursts out crying, the emotions too much, success has come at last.
Without food there was nothing she could do. The dead bundle is cold, she sits on the floor, wailing.
Anyone for canapes!
She puts on her robes, dresses the traditional way, covers up. Women pass her on the street, they look at her, odd they think, who’d want to cover up. She spends five minutes preparing to go out, they spend an hour worrying about how they look, who was covering up. She doesn’t seek the admiring glances of men, she has no intention to tease. It’s odd she thinks, the way some seek the attention, when they ought to seek happiness. One day they will understand.
the child comes homes after school, the welcome is personal, his mother is waiting for him, They discuss the school, what did you learn today, no stones no anxieties, they chat about the news, he tells her what he is doing, about the school trip next week. She smiles as she watches him leave the dining room, he is heading off to see friends.
The morning is a rush, they rush will begin in less than an hour, and they have to travel. They both “work”, and across town takes at least a good half hour. Come on Johnny hurry up, come on, you’ll be late, will you get your son to move she sighs, she has an early meeting, it’s her review. he rushes cereal, take it with you, she hands him a fruit bar, come on, hurry up, we’ll be late. They bunch into the van/car.
Perception sighed Solomon, there were those who thrived on attention, and those who suffered on account of the lack of it. One day they’d learn. If they gave half the attention to what was important, what a difference it would make. Imagine, going down the street, and everyone looking at the faces rather than the rear ends, where did that idea come from, cover up I suppose. Happy B day.