lay lady lay, what a memory that was, baby blue, the memories, the blowing wind, the change, the rhythms, the couldn’t care less attitude, dam will speak to you when i feel like it, tangled up in blue, oh mercy, what good am I, what if, the man in the long black coat, the unforgettable lyrics, the twang voice, that wasn’t a voice at all, a heart, that still touches, what a legacy to reflect upon, at seventy seven, not that he gives a damn. Still listening to him after all these years, who can say that, very few, but teachers all, God Bless you Bob, thanks.
It’s difficult agreeing, the rhetoric is correct, it’s the right thing to do, the argument makes sense, it only takes one final step, saying it. The time gets near, the fear rises, the hidden truth, those things you are hiding, come to the surface, the way all truth does. As they listen, the words make impact, where did it come from. From all the groups, the heads look down, he mentions the treatment of women, across all the divides, it’s the one cause they have all failed in, equality and respect. In our faults we find a common cause, so where is the bridge builder, who is going to patch the quilt, stick it back together again.
As the groups retreat to discuss the issue, the old arguments come to the fore. He said that Men and Women were equal. There were prophets too, who warned, that men would never be satisfied with one. Some try to address the issue, those that can’t forgive, gladly remind others of their so called faults, hatred has far too many friends.
Solomon was surmising, the signs were coming faster than snow in a blizzard. It was time to encourage all those making the effort for change, rather than reminding them of their faults. In parts of the world, it was dangerous, to even think change. So Solomon prayed, Help them lord, and curb the extremism that is a poison everywhere. Building bridges, he smiled at his friend, he didn’t say much, but he listened. Perhaps he was a King.
You are the sum of your experiences, and the habits that are passed on, She looks at him, what do you mean. How would he put it, it was complicated; he thought a moment, wanted to get it right, she looks at him, her heart is hurting and she is at a loss, why did she hurt when she loved so much, it wasn’t fair. She heard he had the answers, she waits.
“if you don’t forgive, or are unwilling to forgive, you bring that resentment with you, and when the situation arises again in your life, those feelings re emerge, and the memory begins to repeat itself, if you want to break the cycle, it’s as simple as forgiveness”
Seriously she says, that made sense. He smiles she gets it, he can see the hardness lessen, she is half smiling.
“and even worse he says, those real time demons will remind you, when they feel like it. Don’t give them leverage over your life, it’s why Jesus died on the cross, If his Father can forgive us for what happened that day, the least we can do, if forgive those who offend us!”
Gotcha she smiles. Another lesson learned. It was time for a Guinness.
God Most High pours over the petitions and prayers made in the name of Lord Jesus, those that are accompanied by righteous souls, are given priority. Peter stands quietly beside him; he’s never seen so many requests that made it to the Boss’s table. Pass me the wine he orders, Peter does as he is told. God sips a little of his favourite creation, then sips again, wondering, how best to unravel the mess, while protecting the good.
“have you got the names there Peter, those that sold out love, not the entire list, just the ones pertaining to the advertising industry first, they duelled with me for too long, assumed I didn’t exist, assumed I’m never react, even concocted stories about me, can you believe it” sighs God
Ten names are selected, less than one per cent, they are to have their lives turned upside down in a matter of days. God puts his seal opposite each of their names; all of them close associates of the evil one. He writes out a coded message, passes it to peter. Send it down, and if anyone of them tries to petition me or whatever, I’ll never be home, is that clear
Solomon sighed, what was it like with Moses in the desert!
Meeting God requires nothing more than you creating the opportunity to do so. The rest is managed by God.
Ever the feeling, the one thought that is constant, it floats from mind to mind, the moment when the stranger will appear, invisible but very real. How our Spirits are interfered with, the power of thought and well being curbed, as if someone had applied a break. It must be on so many minds, apart from those addicted, well addicted is too hard a word, it assumes medical need, the suppression of an old habit, it means there is something wrong, what are we going to do about it, almost. No, no, the scale of the problem, so damn political, the scale of the issue, sounds a lot better, particularly to the addict, a business proposal more the truth, you will pay for the therapy, you can pay me back later, the connotations, you can read so many ways. But the stranger in the room, the heckler in the audience, the noise that wants to make noise, the head miner, feeling for anxiety, hoping to exploit, Solomon was listening to it all, and most importantly, the stranger in the room, total recall.
We lived in a world where news was used to exploit undermine and unhinge at times, those receiving it, some call it head mining, others call it propaganda, Solomon sighed, it wasn’t exactly new or anything, it just happened that, that same power to harry people, was now in nearly every pair of hands in the world, total recall, smell the coffee.