Mothers and Our World

What we take for granted, well she is the one who always hangs around, the one voice we can turn to, as if God Himself was alive inside of everyone. The miracle of birth, and there are those who claim they have been put down, it’s usually those who have had to deal with pain, the grievances that have to find a way out. Solomon reflected, His Own Mother being a fine lady, the face that you could seek out without worry or care. Those were the days, and what child was afraid to tell his or her mother anything or ask for anything. I suppose it’s why there is such worship for the Mother of the Lord, the woman who bore Him.

Today, Solomon sighed, with a few tears, how there were many little ones, afraid or made fearful of telling their mother what needed to be said, the mountain of fears poured into the general media, getting a lodging place inside very delicate hearts, it was a mute point, missed by all the so called experts. If you are afraid to tell your mother, what happens to that stuff you need to let out from inside you. The media had over cooked itself, and sowed such harm, they needed to take a leaf out of Solomon’s book of wisdom, who was and is trusted by God, every word you speak will be used against you.

Even the online world had to ask itself, had it any responsibility, or did they all play the silent game, as if they were trying to avoid the truth. Solomon encountered the Great Spirit, no boast, just a reminder to all, the Kingdom of God is inside you, learn fast, amen.

Leaving

The office door opens, he steps outside, there is another life to be lived, he stands with his briefcase, he is free to choose, a man with ideas, an hour to himself, has plans has dreams, has responsibility too, we all have to face the bills. The school bag on the shoulders, the books of burden, their weighty, but they lead somewhere, on the street, school is over, she is filled with dreams. He checks his mobile after leaving the house, the message he waits for, from someone close, he walks on. The chair is comfortable, the power is battery, freedom to get about, on the move, he enjoys leaving places on his own, there is an element of independence in it.

The Spirit is on the move, it has always been on the move, it stirs us when we meet it, the voice of a friend, the calm we feel in certain company, the friends we enjoy spending time with, the chance to re charge the inner well, have a peaceful moment, before encountering what is out there. The world is full of dreamers, and the Spirit is always moving, going from place to place, seeking a refuge with those who want to live by it’s rules; compassion to begin with, understanding of the needs of others, a little less ego, less of the self and more of the other, it moves, The Spirit does, and when it finds a good place to rest and dwell, it’s the same as that spider in the corner who comes into the room, and rests in the corner until winter is over, no smell of chemical, this is a safe zone it tells itself, we are not leaving here..Yeah, the Spirit is choo

sey, amen.

Outside World

 

He closes the door, the walk isn’t too far, he wants a cigarette, a fix in the morning a bite in the afternoon, a few cans in the middle, and by four he will be out of it again, outside the world. She will pass by him and shrug, he is on a bench outside the church, lifting her eyes to heaven, she remarks

, did you see the like of that, alcohol drenched sloshed in front of your church, no respect she mutters beneath her breath. He eyes her as she passes; would she ever throw a few coins, has she any heart at all. She can hear his thoughts, his eyes stab her like daggers, in the back. All he does is drink it, she ignores him and walks on.

Mrs O’Neill says the cashier, she is inside the women’s fashion shop, everywhere, it’s spotless and shiny, she is there to try the new dress, there is a wedding coming up. It’s awful what you see on the street these days remarks Mrs O’Neill, referring to the drunk slumped over the bench down by the church. The attendant ignores the remark. A half hour later, Larry is slouched completely, lying motionless on the pavement now. In sleep land, he does not notice Mrs O’Neill as she passes; the smell of alcohol and that other smell, have they no respect she says.

Solomon heard two women in conversation, the sight of alcohol soaked bodies hanging around the sanctuary is too much for them, they have to speak up. What the children are exposed to one of them says. Solomon smiled, God works in wondrous ways, giving us tips, and angels come in all sorts of guises, many times just warning us all, of the outside worlds.

Shy Girl

She laughs, he listens, she forgets herself in his company, there are no ills, all dread is cancelled, she wants to hear more, she wonders his opinion, it’s love in an active form, you don’t own it, she enjoys the moment, in times of distress, she goes over the conversation, listens to what was said, the words calm her thoughts, the light gets inside her, her Spirit rises, she imagines the Sun rising, it does, when she listens to His words, she thought she was a shy girl, now she is a smiling girl, a transformation.

What is Love, the question of questions, can you bank it, can you ever own it, she is trying to get her head around it, it’s the one question that needs an answer. Solomon sighed, it’s really simple. It’s healthy to begin with, does not lead you astray, and leaves you wanting more, without loosing your mind, and leaves you smiling or crying, amen.

 

Her Freedom, where she asks!

The freedom she is allowed, there is so much so see, it is as if she has been given her sight back,  as well as her dreams,  a far cry from the desert she had once lived. She still remembers the smell of the goats, dung burning in the fire, and the drought. Rescued, she was one of the luckier ones, apart from what they did to her down there, she shakes with fear every time the memory hits, who were these men.

In the Name of God and the prophet they said, he must have been a butcher then, who would do that, only someone cruel and resentful. In the bright light, she has found a new home, among the so called infidels, and she has never been happier. Being able to walk along the street, say hello without having to worry. The fear they sowed into so many hearts, it was not God they worshiped, it was something else.

Her voice can listen to the new sounds, her heart dreams, she is not afraid of her thoughts, she can do things she never did before, and her way of life, so much better as well. Her sisters still live there, her dream is to free them too. The fear they encountered when a stranger came to visit, the fear of opening your mouth, the fear of looking into the eyes of someone, the dreading, the death of the Spirit inside. The books they wrote, were not close to the truth, more an exercise in entertainment, they wear black all the time.

Solomon was putting words on an ugly truth, how Spirit was strangled to death in many hearts, voices squashed, the same way, Spirit was sucked out of so many lives, by the religiously chaste; if it was their intention to appeal to God, it was more an appeal to demons instead, did they not understand how to love!

He was in the middle of a war zone, a peace maker of sorts. The religious of his own family, doing their utmost to curb the loving spirit, based of course, on the intellectual thinking of the religious of course, who daily put mill stones around the necks of so many. There only agenda, was to curtail those that did not agree with them, nothing more. And they had allies, many of them. He was writing it to remind himself, they were not very Godly in mind whatsoever, it was an organisational thing with them, nothing more, and reverence for God Most High was far from their actions.

In the meantime, his Friends from the east were being urged to act, in wisdom. The amount of annoying behaviour that can be tolerated has reached its limit, in the face of divine blessings, and He was calling on all the Holy Prophets, to petition God Most High, as there was not much more that could be tolerated. His enjoyment of Spirit, had been curtailed due to their lack of giving while they spied, and harm had accrued on so many occasions, unnecessarily so, and he found this totally unforgivable, so he was sending it up, along with the plight of all the love trapped in so many hearts, on account of their inactions. His word was online, his efforts were known, they had one concern, to perpetuate the past, nothing had changed in fact, amen.

 

They ought to have been removed, amen. Solomon makes his petition in the Name of Jesus Christ, prayers and petitions made in his name are heard in the Heavens above, the greatest truth of all, amen, when from the heart that loves. He saw so many signs too, ask in the Holy Name, it’s exactly what he’d done.

The young women trapped in the desert, their voices and pleas were being heard… the story continues…..

The Small Brunette ….

She wasn’t much to look at, but she had a punch, she was not much to remember, but she had the thoughts inside her, the thoughts that sent you on your way, she was a smart brunette. Solomon sighed, he recalls the happy face, the words of hope, the kindness to others, he met many in his time, but few made an impression on the inside. It was the story of the good wine and the regular stuff, you never forget the good, amen.

As you sit there, older perhaps, tired most days, wondering if you could do more, wishing you had done it different at times, that day, this day, everyday, you got the chance to brighten the day, a thoughtful remark to someone, a simple smile, the small brunette, her’s was a smile worth remembering, amen.

Remember Neda

Gun violence was in the news, the school children causing a riot, stirring up the temperature, putting themselves on the line, they can’t shoot children they thought. Neda, the young woman shot during the Iranian Revolution, it’s Easter, Solomon remembers.

The camera rolls while her life ebbs away, let the cameras’ roll, make my life count for something, she gasps reaching for air, knowing that very shortly she would be taking her last. Solomon imagines the last minutes of Jesus, the prisoners by his side asking questions, what sort of question would Neda have asked.

With her last few breaths, all she wants, is for the world to be aware of what is going on, the lives being stolen, the imprisonment of a nation, let the camera roll she says, then dies. So her spirit is taken up to Heaven, she meets old friends, deceased relatives, friends, then she spots Jesus, what would she say;

“they were not allowing us to live, enjoy beauty, it was as if these men were afraid of themselves” she says

“I know I know” he says with a smile on his face. he is glad she is there, there is a lot of explaining to do.

“It happened all over the place, they just enjoyed the control of women, that’s it!” he sighed, before adding;

“you give them a little power and they are soon addicted”

She rises her eyebrows, that’s it she thought, they were addicted to control right from the start.

Neda, young lady of the revolution, gave her life, made full use of it, amen.

Patrice Mulumba

The Intelligence Community

You have the economic community, the cultural community, the euro community, but has anyone heard of the intelligence community, or does intelligence count for much anymore, after all, if the image is all we seem interested in, who needs intelligence, and being short on patience and in search for the self, what has intelligence got to do with anything. The remarkable thing about intelligence, it seems prayerful in the beginning, the world of good intention, the collective wisdom, the ideas, then an action. I suppose you might compare it with a decent prayer; full of gusto, driven, passionate, and in need: many prayers are about rescue, something we need. really intelligent prayers, include more than the life around us, we spread our wings, bring others into the equation, very non modern, the world of the selfie thinks for the self, do I look good in that, you would if you went on a diet, i can hear the comment, this does not sound intelligent at all.

So, being interested in all things human, I have a vested interested in finding intelligence, a bit like seeking life on mars: it’s up there, it’s real, what did it exist for. So without further chit chat, i decided i would seek the intelligence community, not the spying world, but the real world. If laden with talents there has to be an awful lot of intelligence out there.

My first day on the job was not inspiring. They could send men to the moon, but could not sort out access to the world wide web. After all, creating a global platform that allowed anyone with access to a device, entry into the adult world, be it a child, a teenager or adult, did not seem all that intelligent. The same as starting a fire at a petrol pump station; it don’t take much but the consequences can be deadly. As I thought about it, a pint of Guinness to interrupt my search for intelligence was not a bad idea at all. At least that was an intelligent thought.

What world would create toys that encouraged violence, am I right or am I right!, that movie again, the chance to get it right today. Yeah, a cult hit I recall, but because it didn’t include enough violence and sex it was deemed a box office flop, when it wasn’t a flop at all, the intelligence i am looking for. Of course it was said, 2,000 years ago;

“the wisdom of man will prove to be pure foolishness when compared to the wisdom of God”

1940’s, the California desert, are you sure this will work!, a group of scientists build a device with the power to destroy all life, sounds stupid all these years later.

 

Unhinge Me….

The old man warned him in advance, “well Paddy I am a surprise for them if that’s the case!”, Solomon listened to his old friend, in his 80th year, pass on the wisdom, he said it again. The old man had heard the stories about the demons, had proof few knew about. Solomon listened carefully. The one thing he didn’t tell the old man, the visit of the great spirit, he was setting a trap for them.

Them were now flying across the Atlantic with no cargo door on the plane, the hinges on the door having failed; Solomon had prayed, let they become victims of their own treachery, amen.

Seriously

Once upon a time there was a woman, who ability to heal outshone all the stars of the New Hollywood, remarkably, she was the worlds first female evangelist. The testimonies, readily available in the archives of all the major U.S. dailies, recall healing on a Jesus scale. Medical evidence exists, the facts are real, and this was the revival movement at it’s infancy. The belief was, that the second coming of Jesus was imminent, and a revival in faith was instituted. The temple where she held her gatherings, in Los Angeles, evidenced so much healing, it made clear the words of Jesus, i will send the Holy Spirit, he will be your helper. Less than eighty years ago, this was all going on. Famously, via the words of Augustine, it was claimed centuries before that the era of miracles and healing was over. However, having encountered Great Spirit myself, I often wondered where the Holy Spirit had gone, it has to live in the heart, how we encourage that Spirit is my favorite hobby.

In a nutshell, what we fill our heads with becomes a traffic jam as sure as junk food becomes a health problem. We might get away with it in the beginning, but it always catches up with you. On a side note, a person who claimed to know me well, claimed, he was lying of course, well I was on my way to the “office”, when he pulls up, he has the actors pose, distraught, upset, reads my concern, I listen, he adds a few tears, has a story, he needs money, he has cheated me before. Would you lend him a couple of dollars, I did. He assumes the Holy Spirit is no cheese to worry about, how will the story end?

One day is all we need, to prepare the right prayer, may God Most High in mercy, pour out the healing spirit, and fill us with the right frame of mind today and everyday. For those who want to research the evangelist mentioned above, her name is Aimee Semple Mcpherson. Her son, is Rolf Mcpherson.