To wake up each morning knowing that the Creator of the universe loves you — From guest writers… re blog, you are never alone

The greatest thing in life is to wake up each morning knowing that the Creator of the universe loves me. As one writer put it ‘He loves me as I am, not as I should be, but He loves me too much to leave me as I am’. ~ Alan Hermann

To wake up each morning knowing that the Creator of the universe loves you — From guestwriters
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Understanding Compassion

You can’t look at me that way, you can’t come into the house and treat me like a slave, where did you learn such things. Another scene, they enter the club, the girls are toe rags, flash the cash, do what you like, you can get to humiliate them, they are so high, what does it matter, another man’s daughter. The thought never hits you, just legs and a bush, and time to get excited, someones daughter, what planet are you on.

He twists in the bed, the thoughts run around his head, getting older, he can sense the future, what if, the big question on the minds of many, is their really a Messiah and a God, he is soaked in sweat, what the blazes are you thinking Roy, this is insane he says, talking himself through his personal nightmare. Who can say no to God, well, many have said no to good, he twists in the bed. They sleep in separate beds, have been a long time. I loved her then, then, well, I do love her now, he is not sure, what was he hiding from all his life. She loved him anyway, and if he wasn’t busy in the passion department he was always a great father. She never told him, she realized his quirky ways, fell in love with them, the sexual world was never her thrill, she was always a mother in the making, and compassion is her way, way she treats the world.

Solomon wondered how many folks were having the what if moment, the signs were all pointing up, and the old guard were being swept aside, a new understanding was gaining a hold, and the plans of the extremists were about to implode. A man in power wore all the faults of the human race, went through the entire fault spectrum, warts and all, and the opposition hadn’t laid a punch on him, seemed as if he was holding up the proverbial mirror. Solomon smiled, who could have wrote the script, a pope from the edge of the world, Islamic leaders driving change, and a very open society in the Irish republic, a far cry from the closed days of doom and gloom that used to be preached, and the women who left many shores in order to find freedom.

Understanding Compassion was a topic on the minds of many. The light of divine intervention was making it clear; we are tenants in someone else’s vineyard.

Those Old Wars

A lot of bloodshed, a lot of heart break, does anyone remember their names, hardly, Amo nods in the bed, still a teacher, he listens, it’s all that He can do these days, listen. You are not feeling well he says, his visitor is an old friend, they were in college together, that is sixty years or more, over a hundred and twenty years between them, come to think of it, a lot of living time on the planet, a couple of major wars, the great one in 1939, do they all remember that, ration cards, doing without petrol, driving the car twice a week, if you were lucky enough to have one.

I’m getting old Amo, says the friend, not unlike yourself, they share a smile. They went on the odd holiday together, when travel was a huge experience, not the twenty four seven event it is now, when tickets to anywhere can be bought within hours of flying, and half the price when you do. Amo sighs, everything moves on, in the end we leave behind what, memories, that are hopefully, a legacy of a sort. The old friend, nods. Will anyone remember us, the thought is on his visitors mind, Amo has no such fears.

Immune to the news, Solomon sighed, when we hear too much of it we switch off. There is another appeal, another famine zone, another disaster, another social meltdown, the car moves along, the radio is changed, music, an awful lot happier, positive. Immune are we, to news and all that we don’t want to hear. Solomon pursed his lips, an observer, he watched it all. It must have been the same at the time of the ancient prophets, the news no one listened to, the descent into pleasure, this is going to last forever. Time tells us, it never lasts, maybe that’s what we need to recall, it is all passed on, your habits, good bad or indifferent.

Old Boy Blues

This can’t be happening Cardinal, it does not appear in any of our texts, it seems to be from the other Book, they don’t want to mention the word, why, it will mean extending their vision of compassion, it’s a touchy subject and they have got used to control, why would they ever dream of ever giving up that. You mean we are not the only ones, the setting, can’t you see it, 2,000 years earlier, the same argument between the Pharisee’s, as they gather to discuss the words of Jesus, anxious that he is getting a hearing and the crowds, worse still, they are listening to him, and he is even doing what the divine can only do, or is it demons.

The thought of eating without the ritual cleaning, and all sorts of food is fine with him, damn it, if this is allowed to go on, it’s going to make our rules and regulations meaningless, how did we allow it they sigh. Power, the old problem, and the zealots who are certain of their authority, enforceable authority, able at will, to undermine, well, when you imagine it, they put Jesus on the cross, hoping it was the ending of him, little did they know, it was only the beginning, and it’s being growing ever since, The Power of Spirit, and how it works to overcome the instincts that destroy us. Old boy blues, how can they explain this?.

Solomon sighed, the sun bursts from the Sky, the approval from on High, and no set of rules to coral it, just sweet simplicity. The old men could be discussing the fate of Joan of Arc, it could be anyone of Great Spirit, what happens, as Jesus said, they murdered the prophets and then afterwards, praised them. He was reading a book, the green cup of wisdom, words in the Islam Holy Book, is mentioned in the story, as for other words, they prophecy the Return of Jesus, too. In the end, the goal is the same, there are those who hold the words on high and repeat them, and there are those who acknowledge them, but don’t follow them, in the middle, the Wisdom of Jesus, solves all problems, for those who use them, same as good medication, taken with care, amen.

Harry the Potter

Amo, what does He mean when he uses words such as potter, and stuff, it’s rather confusing, the request of a small child. Amo drifts back to his school days, he is having a recall while lying in bed in his care home. The thoughts on his mind when he faces the divine one, it’s like preparing for an exam, and Amo has high expectations.. A teacher all his life. He tries to remember the answer he gave that day. The child had one of the harry potter books in his hands, was there a connection he could make.

Amo thinks, don’t pretend if you don’t know the answer, and if it’s an educated guess admit it. Amo is tired of the so called global experts, and their expert opinions, it hasn’t worked, caused huge global problems, these so called expert opinions. A bit like Brexit and the United Kingdom, a huge bonus for every country but the United Kingdom, so much for expert opinion.

The potter fashions the clay, creates the vessel that holds liquids or foods, enables us to sit down and eat together. Without a vessel to hold water, think how difficult it would be. The Child nods, easy to understand that. So when it goes wrong sighs Amo, what does the potter do, say when it begins to leak. The child nods, that’s easy the little boy says. He makes a new one. Amo’s face widens into a grin, a wise little vessel this one is. Amo continues.

The clay can be refashioned too, when it gets out of shape he says and needs to be adjusted. You mean when it’s been made asks the Child. Amo sighs, God does not make mistakes, he wants to get it right. How about this he says smiling. The times when you know you done wrong and allow someone else to take the blame, how do you feel about it after, The child sighs, tears in it’s eyes, you feel bad, and you try to avoid them, don’t you, he says.

Amo is trying to connect the thinking of the Child to wisdom, there is no one solution. In his mind he recalls the teaching of Jesus, the faults that are passed on when we can’t forgive, and the resentment it causes later, and the harm passed on.  That would be one reason for refashioning the clay, apart from the destruction of the message it was supposed to carry… One way of putting it, enough for one day he sighs, the class is over, he is back in his bed in the care home, but smiles at the memory of long ago, seeds well sown, he’ll pass that test all right.

 

Wisdom

Rules, we were made to break them, improve on them if you like, so the young assistant listens to the old man, rules, it was her middle name, the fear of getting it wrong, and the paralysis it creates. She was trying to appease the old man, they get diddery don’t they. She mixes the drink with the clotting agent, his swallow is difficult, the muscles don’t have the same dexterity, she assumes he doesn’t want to choke. Where are you from he asks, then he said, I like your accent.

I come far from here she says, her accent east European. She spoons in the thickening agent, and passes him the cup of tea.  He sips with difficulty. Her hand takes his shoulder, leans him forward, makes it easier. He swallows easier. I like your accent madame he says with a smile, so you have traveled too she imagines. You didn’t tell me where you are from, he says, he is smiling at her. why would anyone be interested in where she came from. She remembers her mother, her father, those left behind, inside she sighs, thinking of them, and the struggle they made in order to give her the freedom to travel. Wisdom he smiles, as if he could read her mind. Don’t be afraid to ask he says, with a smile.

The Temple Door

He watches them enter, he has been waiting a while, there has to be one who understands, the words have to have meaning, not simple acknowledgement, there is plenty of that, who doesn’t need water to drink, an acknowledged fact, yet so much of it is poisoned, when it gets rare, suddenly things hurry up. Solomon reflected, why were the prophets necessary, why were they sent around. Reminders, there is a destiny, that even the demon acknowledges, were we supposed to be working towards that, making it possible. He is hungry, it’s a place where the worshippers gather, they are told to imitate Jesus and the prophets, he seeks a sign. Has been living on a bench, not a tramp, far from it,. he comes with divine authority, there is one among them with the faith Necessary, he continues to wait at the temple door.

The wonders of the stories of old, the constant rebuke of those in charge, repeated so often, no wonder he said it was great news for the oppressed and the poor, those moved out of societies view, it’s ugly having to admit the downside. Get them out of my sight, who needs reminding of that.

Solomon smiled, his Mother held the door open all her life, didn’t suffer the views of those who waited on society, to deliver. In her heart, in her family, active in your faith, and you will be delivered. How many times had the helper arrived, every time, and what was the response of the organised religion, the same as political parties trying to recruit a candidate?