Flying Spirit

Te Amo, she turns her head, she hasn’t heard that in awhile, she’s a migrant worker, and an illegal, she is waitressing,  the cook is flirting with her again, she smiles. Meanwhile there are three tables that need to be cleared and three other girls like her, vulnerable, waiting to take her job, no slip ups. She passes a table, two men in suits, are they immigration, she pretends not to look, we ordered two coffee’s one says. She nods, rushes to the table, her eye on the two men, are they there to spy on her. Being an illegal is hard work, she has moved every six months, trying to keep ahead of the posse. She possess’s a secret, one she can’t explain, not in the normal meaning of the word; she carries the Holy Spirit inside her. Remain calm, she repeats this to herself daily, evening, before sleep, calm, you live inside me she explains. It’s as if she carries a special child inside her.

Our coffee, she passes the table, makes a nod, coming she says. It’s lunchtime, the busy period, but she doesn’t mind, there are other young girls like her, who are not that lucky. One of them dances the tables, and smiles at leering men all day, it’s a job, provides shelter, things can get worse.

She fills the cups, makes for the two men, sorry she says, setting  down the two cups. His jacket slides to the side, as if he is reaching for something, she spots the handle of a gun, law enforcement he says, sorry if I upset you, she smiles nervously. He nods. He wears a brown belt, he fingers the clasp, a sign, they are on my side, she sighs…..

Advertisement

One Point Three Million….

That’s a lot of kidneys, eyes, livers, stomachs, thigh bones, where did they put it all, and what religion did they follow anyway!. Well, we are all influenced as they say. The pastor leading the group of children through the tour of the Death Camp, hesitated, he didn’t have an answer to the young girls question. Could he say for sure, they were ours, or was it their’s. Solomon was reflecting on the power of forgiveness, and wondered if any lessons had been learned. There were still those within the church, trying to stifle argument and learning, their ways embedded in the past. He imagined the thoughts in all the young heads, wondering if they joined the dots; What they were looking at was, the remains of extremism mixed with religious fundamentalism gone awry, aided by the growth of new technology.

Maybe if there had been more women in the upper hierarchy of the church, more compassion would exist, something the victims would never be able to find out. Solomon saw efforts to direct his thoughts, that were man made. Regardless, what had to be said, would be said, amen. In the papers, the media was hawking stories of those with influence, who had gone astray. If you were poor they didn’t intervene, unless you did something so gross, that it would be of interest to a large audience. Six million in the furnaces, 50 million overall, trying to hang individuals, seemed out of sync, amen.

 

When you encounter the Holy Spirit, there is no hiding place. Solomon sighed, time to admit the mistakes and hopefully learn.

Secrets of the Heart…

They say your real treasure lies in there she said, while pointing to her heart. Gloria was with her grandson at the kitchen table, the family having come on a holiday visit, in there she said again, this time, tapping her heart with her forefinger, her thumb pointing  up towards the sky, sign language.

Bypassing the daily stuff, freeing the mind, giving your self inside space, the ability to absorb what is lasting and eternal, against the flow of that which perishes. Solomon was reminding himself, the ancient words are so life giving, but because their meaning had been lost in the mad world so many tried to cope with, it was not easy finding the space, and even harder at times, keeping the space once found. He compared it with a parking meter, into which you had to put real coins, it had to be topped up regularly.

The mystery of God was and is the greatest mystery of all, how does it work, why does a bird simply fly at will, why do humans worry so much about the material, when only the Spirit is eternal. Solomon was listening to music, and wondered ever more, how music was so calming, and free.  His heart could be moved to a time and a place, with the mere lyrics of a tune and a sweet rhythm.

Spirit Calls…

The voices are calling, the days of old, how those of God called out, how they were delivered, because the Spirit was strong in them, and they respected the word and promise of God. How Goliath laughed at David, a mere weakling, who does he think he is, imagine the snide faces, watching this man, how dare he, even the act of walking onto the battlefield, how they mocked him fool they said to themselves, but the Great God of Heaven had other plans. Same as the widow who gave two bits all those years ago, more than all the rich men, what she did is recalled to this day, the Spirit never forgets.

Solomon sighed, he recalled those whose love he had been given, and how that love had sustained him, he never forgot either. There are those who follow with pride what rich men have to say, it gives the inside knowledge, so they think. Little do they know they are worshiping demons most of the time, money and pride, amen. God seeks kindness tenderness and love, the very currency most of the rich always seem to lack, amen.

Another Investigation

How many lawyers do you need to carry out one investigation; Well, you need a lawyer to agree what they are going to get paid, another to ensure they get paid, another lawyer in case there is a dispute about fees, another lawyer to oversee that the lawyers are actually acting legally, and lots of coffee machines, so all the lawyers have enough caffeine in them, to keep them awake, Oh, I forgot, you need a lawyer to proof read everything, and a lawyer to set a timetable for the completion of the investigation. Yes, it requires a lot of lawyers to conduct a reasonable investigation, as for the investigation itself, well, lets hope there will be a second investigation in order to prove that the first investigation was conducted correctly, we don’t want to have any doubts, do we.

Solomon sighed, Jesus said it simple all those years ago; The Kingdom of God is inside you, it’s a question of creating the space, no lawyers required to explain that.

One Day

The room is full of machines, she is lying on the bed, slowly in recovery from the shock, a shopping trip, she ends up at the hospital instead, the change in circumstance. Life changes so suddenly, she is unsure, strangers about her, a friend enters the room, she breathes a sigh of relief. There is a real conversation, what happened the friend says. She looks at the machines before continuing. I felt dizzy, and must have blacked out. Her friend sighs to herself, no slur in the speech, no stroke.  The two friends look at each other; they have been partners for a long time, doing everything together. What would I do if anything happened you she says, the visitor. One change and we are all affected, are we selfish to think this way. One day your buoyant and going places, the next day your a stone in the wall, someone else is leaning on you. Experience is like that. All the pebbles, the days that seemed nothing, now lying there, she is glad to have an ordinary day, any day free from the machines. If she walks away on her own steam she will be satisfied.

Solomon heard news of a friend who had a sudden health change. The circle of friends had lost a cog, and while it is temporary, it’s still a hole in the circle. The roles we play in life, the harmless seeming moments, when a regular stranger stops by and enjoys the company, respite from a crazy world. How the Spirit needs a rest from the drama’s of the world and the failure of many of the religious to understand the basics of Spiritual needs. One day they would hopefully understand, amen.

It happens, the sudden changes, the appeal to God Most High, the call. Do we hear the cry of the emigrant, or did we turn our eyes away when we saw the poverty on the street, embarrassed to look in case it was a disease you could catch. One day, the question will be on all our lips, could we have done more.

Young Savers

Parents, grand parents, the local co-op, school, teachers and preachers, the need to be a young saver, having the back up, the bit you can fall back on. Young savers, Solomon was reminded, the school year closes, the summer begins. The plans that have been saved up, the dreams for the two free months ahead, a holiday, a memory, something to fall back on come the fall, we did that and this, and we went to see this and that, the young saving their memories. The paint on the walls wont hold the building up, it will look smarted when your close up, don’t get carried away, it’s only a paint job, but a good memory, that is something to hold.

The Child leaves school, the holidays, the home life is not the greatest, his father deserted them, he was too young to understand it then, but as he gets older, he knows that he is missing something. Many call out to Fathers, don’t deny your children, save a little for them, put aside your career, park the ego, stop pretending to be important among your colleagues, go home and mind your children, be a saver, amen.

Solomon reflected on the enormous number of interventions, enormous, the record number of changes, the numbers, the weather, the old revelations come through, news of divine intervention, while the same method continued in the old church, he sighed, you exist to raise the Spirit, you are there to help them save themselves, reminding them, that you are a servant after all too

, and not the boss.

What had all the young savers in their heads, what had gone into those heads. The picture from the sky is real, the visit of the Holy Spirit, and more, news of an everlasting life, worth saving for.

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.

Migrant Mary

The tent leaks, it’s cold, but there is a TV, she is watching CNN, the debate is very personal, they are talking about the “Wall”, the door is closed to her and many like her, Dear God she says, is this always going to be their way. For cash they will allow the “dreamers” stay on, what sort of thinking is that, to build a wall, everyone knows you can cross any border these days. Mary is not your ordinary migrant, well, no migrant is ordinary, they take extraordinary chances to create a life, and they do. Miguel comes into the tent, her seven year old son, what are you looking at Mam, they are discussing us she says, his eyes light up, you mean we are going to be famous, he gets excited inside, everyone wants to be famous these days, including, seven year old Miguel.

The diseases have eased since the red cross doctors arrived, but the food is staple, porridge with lots of vitamin, meanwhile, the leaders of Davos, sit down to an eight course meal. There is a flash from the cameras, looks delish says Miguel, he is fed up with the bland food, and used to doing without. What are they discussing he says, he’s a smart child, can ask the right question at the right time, will make a good job when he grows up, if allowed, the other options don’t augur well, he is smart, and that is not something to be wasted. You don’t want him becoming a terrorist.

A teacher in her homeland, a number now, counted with millions of others on the move across the globe, when your without and you don’t have an address, there are few who take you seriously.

Solomon sighed, when will they apply the wisdom and teaching of old, all those old gitters are going to face the eternal judge, for real, they will all have to account for themselves, with all their educations and those expensive schools, you’d have thought they might have learned, have they not seen the signs in the Sky, should have gone to the opticians sooner I suppose. A war was raging, the old time nationalists wanted to turn back time, problem was mother nature was weaker, and they were all being used by the new world extremists. At least after all the troubles of the past, the younger set were not going to fall for that, as for Migrant Mary, the tent leaks, the air is cooler, but Miguel still dreams of being famous.

Flight of Destiny….. could be a diva’s dream….

 

 

The wings rise in union, the small creature is carrying a message, destiny calls, obstacles in the sky, the usual predators and obstacles, and the latest threats, the magnified air, the invisible microwaves, can send the radar spinning, little dove is one of many, that have set off before, it’s a journey across the world. Little heart, she recalls the day she was born, the shell cracked open, it wasn’t easy, she had to move around until it fell away. Interesting, you noticed everything around you, the beginning, your first breath of fresh air. Never did you imagine you’d be flying high up there, even if you were made for the journey, it’s a surprise every time, the lift and you’re airborne, no jet or exhaust fumes. Sally flaps her wings, a little slower than before, her tempo is slowing, it will soon be time to rest.  Rather than cross the ocean at the widest point, when the others didn’t return, it was decided you’d cross as much land, in case it was the water that caused their demise. You are trying to follow the map, but you found out early, that even the landmarks had changed, cities where there were towns, but some are still there. A church steeple or another holy place, the only places where you can find safe nights rest, clouds on the horizon too, rain, it only adds weight, normally it wouldn’t matter, but this was not a normal journey, the message you carry, has the key that will open the gates of Heaven. A couple is getting married, and your arrival at a certain perch will be a sign, then the book is revealed, the holy men and women will unite.

The rise in electronic masts, the waves, the frequencies they interfere with, is putting your navigation skills to the test, but your one of the last ones, they said you did not fly that fast, lucky for you, it is giving you time to circle problems rather than immerse in them. The wings are heavy, you have been flying a Lindbergh, non-stop for five hours, you need a rest. It’s essential, put the wings down and have a good eat.

There is no need to carry anything, otherwise, you don’t fly, one of the great secrets, you and your kind know too well. The way humans worry, there you are waiting to gather a few crumbs, the conversations you hear, when they are troubled help is sent to them, an army of flying helpers, everyone has a specific purpose. The mind is tired, and you need to stay focused, the old teachers words, the reason you and all you feathery creatures were created, at the time, perhaps too young, you thought it was an exaggeration, now, in this time of stress, what you thought was an excess, it holding you in shape, strange words you sigh, the ache on the wing is forgotten, you could fly for hours if you stayed in this frame of mind.

Haven’t been home in a year, what is taking so long, when you get there you will be on time, what sort of timetable is this, that’s what they said to you at the beginning, what planning, you can never lose, then you remember the month you spent in the sun, unplanned, but you were having doubts, and the company was great.  Fresh homegrown bread with lots of grains every morning, berries and all sorts of fruit, some you only heard of, served to you every morning by the gentle mullah, while there was a war going on in all directions, maybe it was wise to stay when you did. Two weeks at the monastery, they treated you as if you were a royal guest, boy did you live it up that fortnight and put on a couple of ounces you had to shed before you were able to take flight. There, you spot the steeple, the head changes, you turn the flaps on your wing, you do a recognisance, there could be a hidden mast, and that’s an experience you don’t want to repeat, sent you off course for five hundred miles, your lower in the sky, you do a second pass, nothing dangerous, it’s a real monastery, not one of those private homes, it’s safe to land.  Some damn map you say.

 

 

She wakes from her dream, her first interview today, a young aspiring actor, she has a big heart, wants to play those roles that inspire, give heart, if only she can overcome those obstacles. Her bedroom door opens, her breakfast, eggs benedict, her eyes lift, just the start I needed……what a dream, imagine being a little white dove, do you know what that means….