Moses and the Burning Bush

Lightning, the sky lights up, from nowhere, a bolt of light descends from the Sky, air traffic control that was close, missed by inches, a loud crack, the terror and screams nearby, it could have hit us. Solomon listened to the news, he was burning the green at the time, then heard the news, could it be real, the earth was on fire,

fire it seems. If a healthy environment is our get out of jail card, then everyone on the planet was getting a reminder, and as in olden times, when God chose to use a burning bush to communicate with his Prophet, many thousands of years later, the same was happening again. There were those bent on the destruction of the living environment for real short term gain, as if we hadn’t enough palm oil already.

Yes, the various environments needed support; the creator could only do so much, our free will does the rest, choices. A student of the ancient texts and striving to get a clearer impression of what it all means, Solomon thought the timing of the burning bush was apt, given that some world Leaders were meeting together, and talk was of the burning bush, not that it was meant to appear on the agenda, but when fire rages, who can afford to ignore it. Imagine, they meet up, discuss, never once wondering, if the fate of the burning bush, was a clear message to them, well, leaders lead, they don’t build castles in the sky.

Thirty thousand feet, the engine wobbles, everyone on the jet trembles, former certainty wanes, could this happen to us as well, yes it could sighed Solomon. Stories such as Moses and the burning bush, are there to remind us, of the many ways God communicates with us; this is a living planet and it does not belong to you, amen.

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The Party at the Inn

She is going through the list, who will she invite. She is very particular, doesn’t want to offend her guests, doesn’t want to upset anyone, mostly herself, it’s an image she has to protect, so she tells herself. The cost of it going wrong, she could lose the friendships of those who can help, her career is all that matters, the money is pouring in, and her manager wants to ensure it keeps that way. He deftly reminds her, the maintenance costs alone are staggering dear, and you love to swim in the pool, she does she admits, things, they can keep her occupied.

She checks the list, all are well to do, there is no need to be embarrassed, everyone will get along fine, she passes the list to her manager for approval, well, he has steered her well so far, she is busier than Elvis in her prime, besides, she had thrown a few dollars into the shelter, a few turkeys and boxes of sweets, they’ll think it Christmas, and she will give her ego a kick.

He reads the statement, the transfer overseas, the pension fund he reminds himself, the accountant is going to get a bonus, the fund is out performing the best estimates, it’s gravy all around. He reads the invitation, another of those parties, he wonders if he will bother, thinks twice, there might be a few worth networking around.

Is it all they do, count money, measure, size up, have they heart, is there any

spirit in them, Solomon imagined God Most High listening to the goings on, the pride and the foolishness of it all, no thought given to the eternal. Some party though….

A knock at the door, the butler purses his lips, she couldn’t possibly know this person, too shabby, and the face, drawn, I’m Mary, she says, a man stands at the gate, she has a bump, move on says the butler, madame has no time for you, he points to a shelter down the road, that’s where your type go. Solomon sighed, was the story of old all about the well being of Spirit, and the welcome it could look forward to, just imagine it…. isn’t a pity it’s only a crisis when there is no way out and never before, damn, wheres the party..?

as Old as rare gold….

 

Your not supposed to look at the legs, it’s why we are sacking you Mr Smith, what am I going to tell Mavis, Mavis being his girl, well, 89 she is an old girl. Jimmy Smith, her nephew, young and naive, didn’t read the new regulations, no looking at girls in the office anymore, it’s offensive, he’s not impressed, what will I tell Mavis. There is no one else he can tell, and she is deaf.

Her head is shrunk, the skin is tight, old age has got a hold of her, and her time is near, so she believes, depressed, wanted to do more, the nursing home she lives in, is waking up, another drowsy sleep, she thought all night about the stuff she used to be able to do, in between the screams of some of those inside, it feels like a prison camp, maybe it’s getting old. Don’t forget Mavis, God Most High can do anything, she hears it inside her head, medication.

The door opens, the trolley girl as she calls her comes into her room, a nurse with an assortment of medication. She mixes the tablets with some soft food, open up Mavis, the nurse says, with a hand behind her back, she helps Mavis raise her head, it’s easier to swallow, two spoons, the medication is gone, so is the Trolley girl, doing the rounds

The Tired outlook…

He read it before, he heard it before, why can’t they lift the Spirit, is it really that hard. Trying to sound polite, is like a lion washing his teeth before he chews you up, it’ll leave a good taste in his mouth, nothing more. The effort to impress, words that are not yours, the love you try to express, when you don’t actually feel it, it’s the same as the next trick at the circus, the magician about to overwhelm, problem is, you can’t get away with it. The next thrill, that will busy you, the toy that curbs the disappointment, the gift that glitters, distractions, from the tired outlook. Solomon encountered the tired outlook, the weary soul, who had set foundations in the wrong place, and was afraid to move.

The dark wave, that once shone bright, the application of rules, when you decide you had enough; demons in a nutshell, drawing you in, forming part of your life, leaving you with, the tired outlook.

Solomon had a prayer for them; those already dead inside, there is a light that can’t be extinguished, amen, and it is real Love, no need for the tired outlook.

Life is a tunnel

The tunnel is a metaphor, the journey, the struggle, danger, feeling trapped, relying on others for advice, a guide, decision making, dealing with fears, the sense of the unknown, and the outcome, enlightenment, getting there, the I’ve been waiting for it moment, then the light, and hopefully, being free. Imagine it, the caves built, to hide and find refuge in, to smuggle, or hide treasure, your not so sure what you are going for find down there.

A woman crosses into Israel, she is a refugee, needs urgent medical care, is not allowed access the normal way, restrictions, she has to find another way, she uses the underground. Dark Enemy, is building top secret weapon, doesn’t want the allies bombing the regular plant, builds network underground, we have all seen the movie. The tunnel, it has many interpretations, freedom seeking ,a hiding place, a prison, a journey.

When we get to the light, the other end, and we breath fresh air, the euphoria having made it, it was worth it, yes, it was a struggle, but we got there. You have an illness, its’ six months, could be six years of treatment ahead, it’s the tunnel again, it’s the struggle. The chemo you have to go through, the unknown, the experience of others, the guide of doctors and nurses, the support of family, spiritual guides, it all helps you get through the tunnel.

In olden times, Jesus told the early followers, its’ not going to be easy, you will struggle, there will be those trying to stop you, they will even hate you, as for demons, there will be plenty, but don’t ever forget, if you remain with me, you can’t fail, and besides, if I am not there in person, the Holy Spirit will come along, so don’t give up.

Solomon sighed, stepping into the tunnel, the first steps, at least there is one we know for certain, who will always be there, remain steadfast, you are never alone, and death is not the end. Being alone, that’s the darkest tunnel of all, when we actually believe we are.

Don’t talk to Strangers

Good parental advice, the world is full of deviants, now follow my advice, don’t talk to strangers, the four year old’s are listening, why asks one child, a little more spirited than the others, well, the teacher has a check list, well, they might kidnap you, steal you away and bury you in a forest, steal all your Christmas presents, and… The child is smart, wonders what is in the head of the teacher, paranoia.

Child tells himself, it doesn’t make sense, is everyone really going to kidnap him. Who pollutes the mind he wonders. His friends share their stuff online, weird he thinks. His older brother and sister are always talking to stranger’s online, and no one has kidnapped them yet. paranoia.

Prop them up with fear, well, can you really get away with slapping your child mentally everyday, there is bound to be a reaction sooner or later, children are not stupid. How silly of you, says the head of school, did you not hear of the boy who was grabbed off the street, he was never heard of again, terror.

Feeding the fear, and paying for it later, Solomon sighed, they said the same of Jesus, all those years ago, he was considered a danger to society all those years ago, by society and it’s rulers, an upstart with opinions who challenged them all. Don’t talk to strangers, engage with like minds instead, Solomon sighed, the ghetto mentality has proved worthless, created borders, fired all sorts of hatred, encouraged bias, fueled envy, no.

Enlightenment, amen.

The Head Liners

The stuff the head fills with, the recall, the continuous reminders, the little triggers, the wearing out of the resistance, the cry of a child, that won’t give up till it gets your full attention. Escaping the fear, the words of threat, where do you go, the authorities can’t be trusted, everyone can be bought. Inside, the thoughts swing over and back, the lion and the hyenas, they are fifty of them, One lion, they wear him out, the constancy of their efforts, he will have to fall, will tire him out, eventually he will set down and be taken. The stuff that gets in your head, you haven’t got this, you ought to have that, as for your car, the subtle reminders, you are just a consumer, targeted, played. It was the same story all those years ago.

Solomon was reflecting, the children were on their way back to school, moms and dads were getting them ready, new books, the uniform, new shoes, all the bits you need to fit in, no child wants to be left out. He recalls the times of the early believers, and all the appeals by the early apostles, to their growing numbers of believers. They were having a hard time, they were being taunted, goaded, where is he then!. The parade of wealth before them, the ancient roman empire, and how it rewarded those you were servile to it, well, Caesar triumphs over the world, long live the emperor. The troublesome believers, a threat to the old religion, a threat to Rome, the pressure is applied, examples are made of the most vocal, to put off any new recruits. Two thousand years ago, no computers, no red cross, no united nations, just the promise of Jesus, hold tight, the kingdom of God in inside you, you just have to believe.

Today there are great changes going on; the world is topsy turvy, the old regimes are loosing power, and the Spirit that is crossing the world, points to heavenly powers. Solomon could vouch for it. He encountered the Spirit, and held firm, saw many wonders, don’t forget, fill the space inside you, will loving thoughts, death is not the end, just the beginning of the next leg of the journey. As for the head games, ignore them, they too will pass. One thought and they could be transformed into babbling fools, amen.