Jesus and His Friends….

He’s not supposed to hang out with women, they should be at home, women, what do they need to hear, they don’t make decisions, we do. The apostles are having a few beers in the tavern, Jesus is after heading out of town, they are doing his head in complaining, could they not just relax. Why are they anxious in the company of women, what do they fear. Jesus is seeking a place to relax, sit still, enjoy nature, listen as they say, undisturbed, he likes Martha, Mary, Elizabeth, even Lazarus’s sister, a pretty cool person; she listens better than the men, and they have no difficulty thinking the options through; always with the well being of children in mind; they are not planning on global domination, they think of the world to come, and how it will be for children. They are tired of the constant wars, and the talk of revenge; It’s doing his head in, they have to forgive, but first he has to forgive them, so he seeks solace. Lying on a blanket in the middle of a field, he asks wisdom to come to him, listen he says, this is not an easy situation, i need your advice, what will I do…Jesus and his friends, Men and women were always equal, they just had different skills in a world that was slow paced, that’s all….

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Martin Luther King Time – Re Blogged (never take credit for others work), God’s lawyers file papers against patent holders on his own creations, thieves!)

Originally posted on I didn’t have my glasses on….: This post is dedicated to the dreamers and doers who are making a positive difference in the world. May you succeed beyond your wildest dreams and what you accomplish create ripples that expand the goodness and greatness of humanity. With Love, Russ With Love, Russ I didn’t have my glasses on…. View original post

via in honor of martin luther king – dreamer and idealist. — Russ Towne’s A Grateful Man

The Vocation

He is lying across the bed, in his PJ’s, a side table, on it a new Glock, the equalizer as he calls it, since he took up his vocation,  a hit man for the mafia. He is pondering, it’s a few hours before the assignment; it shouldn’t a difficult, the target has no protection; he is just another noisy environmentalist, a planning artist, he objected to a new development that threatened the water supply in his town, a bit like JFK when he was slow to embrace war, he was in the way. Room service he sighs as he swings off the bed, and pats his way to the en suite. Professional, he always likes to look good, it also helps. Well dressed types rarely arouse suspicion till it’s too late. Over the years he has liquidated a few, his vocation as he calls it, the only spirit he needs, the cash fountain that gushes the same way the blood gushes from his victim, that’s his thrill, money.

The world of God, the times of Jesus all those years ago, spell a different thrill, and a bounty at the end, that is simply beyond belief, a world based on love empathy and sharing, where there is plenty, it requires Spirit of the loving kind, intangible, you can never own it, you have to pass it on, your responsible for it, a minder.

Solomon looked at the empty church; it was over a hundred years old. He wondered how many knees had knelt at the pews, the knees, the prayers said. Years before he saw the pictures, full houses everywhere, fifty years later, they are close to despair, half empty even on the busy days, vocation. What happened in the intervening period, to cause such a flow in the other direction; they forgot about the Spirit he supposed, and thought they were running a business.  He sighed, that is easy to fix, amen.

 

Hear my Voice….

She runs up the stairs, admires her slim figure in the wall length mirror at the top, the transformation, six months earlier she was anybody, she was now the chair person of a local charity, and local was New York. She left her make up bag in the shower room, an essential, given that she’d be meeting people for the next three hours. The world of Good intention she sighed, imagining herself meeting the Pope, the Dali lama was too far out for her, but she’d meet him too, if she had to, or as she termed it, while doing my civic duty dear. The horn honks, she takes a deep breath.

“don’t chauffeurs know their station anymore” she quips. It comes with the appointment, a driver and car for official functions, she calls him her chauffeur.

The world of good intention, or the intention of the idea. From a distance it sounded too easy, and there were many who were glad to have it easy, as nobody wanted to be challenged, only then would their be real solutions. You have to accept it she heard a confidant say, friends were now confidants, she had acquired power. You have to accept a certain level of homelessness, even at Christmas time. When she heard it said the first time it bothered her, well, she lived very comfortably, and poverty wasn’t easy on the eye, it didn’t sit well with the chesterfield suite either. She was adamant, she would change it all, she was different, she had an education, she wasn’t a home trophy either.

Six months later she is rushing down the stairs, when her high heel sticks in a wood split, (all the floors are natural wood, more organic and good for the soles of her feet), As she moves forward, her ankle twists, does she fall or.

I told you for the hundred time, I’m homeless, and i don’t do house share, did you not see my Vietnam war record. The counter assistant is beginning to panic, he mentioned Vietnam, a trigger word, so the specialists said, the behind the scenes advisers. She moves a curl from her face, she is too young to be doing what she is doing, but volunteers are in short supply, they also mean more money for services provided and admin.

At the world charity center, they are having their annual review. They are a group that meets twice yearly, the way

every industry does, the heads of organisations meet, discuss the thrills of the year, and the outlook going forward. In the previous five years, personal injury charities have been thriving, the demand for services doubling year in year out, a real boom area for the charity industry. If society is getting smarter, should it not be going the other way, hear my voice, amen.

The Celebrity Disease

You mean it’s a medical condition, she shakes her head, she stands before the mirror, the curvature of her rear is on her mind, liposuction or implants, she wants to be round, well, if the eyes of the nation are on her, it’s the rear they will see most of. She ignores the words coming from her friend, you are old fashioned, besides you are old as well, she continues with the performance before the mirror, am i too flabby in this she asks, while she holds up a pair of leather trousers, fake leather trousers, nothing about her is real. A day later her life is in tears, her celebrity is no longer a celebrity, she will have to find another one.

Solomon was talking with a friend, the topic was imitation, and by extension, example. What is going on in all those minds, there is nothing original left it seems, they copy cat. Solomon was listening, he heard much talk about it, the way children imitate what they are exposed to. His mind was focused, the signs from above pointed to divine intervention, the numbers too, the warnings from above. Celebrity was not what it was supposed to be, it was a trick, the same as exposure to nuclear weapons, once it got into your head, it was all you could think of. With the world producing less and less numbers of healthy children, it ought to be on the minds of the learned and wise, wherever they were hiding.

Can’t Afford it !

We can’t take him in, she was adamant. James comes home with an elderly man, he’s ragged in appearance, has done it once before. Jane is not sympathetic, she looks the old man over, wonders where they would be safe, where the locks of the inside door are. Her eyes rise up to meet James full on, what are you doing to me, we can’t afford this.

If you let me stay I’ll clean the place, Jack is not impressed by the token words, well meant, but Tony can’t look after himself, he’s got the ageing disease, and friends are few, why me wonders Jack, as he heads for the kitchen, coffee on his mind for his elderly friend, and hopefully some peace of mind for himself.

She screams at the boy, alcohol moves the emotions, he cowers, the five year old, covers his head, is worried about a blow he might receive. The friends look away, it’s a party after all, besides the child should be in bed, but the music woke him, so he comes down, weary eyed, and worried, Mammy didn’t want her possible new boyfriend to see him.

Witness, witness, put a line through it and forget you saw it. The report is another call to the arms, the youth of the district are being assaulted in every way there is. The local dealer has a hold with the police that

Edgar hoover would have been proud of. The pay off will be a few days peace, if they ever decide to act on the intelligence anyway.

Witness, witness, did the birds know something we didn’t. Solomon recalled the dream, he was above the bed, looking down, he see’s a shell break open and then a body emerge, are we all birds, are we born again. A wry smile, he’d experienced that already, amen. Can’t afford to know the truth, you can say that again.