This Child is not ordinary, she reminds me of my grandfather she says, the eyes. Every Mother has the reaction, some more than others. Would you ever put an effort into what those eyes will soon be seeing by the time it’s four and five, has anyone ever thought of the images that are going to fill that little doting head. Character, i don’t think so, even those exposed to radiation have character, but not my baby. I’d die for the child, and the father says, if anyone harmed my baby, they’d not find refuge on the earth. he flexes his muscles, makes the point, they’ll find out in short time. So why are so many sitting down when they should be standing. Love Baby, love a peaceful world, amen.
maybe, she twirls, the dress does not look right, the mirror is full length, she stands there, head left head right, head up head down, doesn’t feel right, damn, she marches to the bedroom, a bundle of clothes on the bed, she reaches into the press, what now she sighs, four to choose from, she’s a size eight, wants to be a seven, grabs the navy jump suit, quickly changes, returns to the mirror, half an hour later, she makes up her mind. A pout of the lips, cool she smiles, on her way to an awards ceremony, wants to look her best. Whats the hurry, in traffic, taxi driver watches her reaction in the mirror, hyped up chick or what, she is hopping, can’t this bus go faster, is getting nervous, the delay is killing her. what’s the rush!.
famine chick, in her small tent, the aid convoy hasn’t arrived yet, was promised a week ago, will it hurry up, her child is cramping with the hunger, the water milk diet not sustaining enough. She doesn’t mind, it’s her child she worries about.
I’d like to announce the winner of the new female singer of the year, and the winner is, she bursts in the door, the audience turns around, the noise she makes would scatter a flock of birds. her day is made, she arrived on the stroke of recognition, the fuss with the make up and stuff worth the wait.
She pulls her hair, ringlets, cutie, she fawns for the audience, opens her mouth the way all the bright teeth people do, pauses. i would like to dedicate my award to the ..
The child is crying, she is fraught with anxiety, she holds the baby, one eye on the door, a miracle she pleads, how can i stop the suffering of my little child. She shakes the baby, talking to the wee one all the time, she’d feed him from her breast, but they are hard and tight, no milk in there, she needs to feed to provide for the young one.
i’d like to thank my agent, and my family for getting me this far, without them i would have got nowhere. She bursts out crying, the emotions too much, success has come at last.
Without food there was nothing she could do. The dead bundle is cold, she sits on the floor, wailing.
Anyone for canapes!
Lots of heart wrenching, pain anxiety fear, severe loss, grief that is hard to suppress, Solomon read the news, one man and the damage he done, an eruption of hatred, and wondered what the response would be. He recalled the 9/11 tragedy and the response that led to much more bloodshed, when the opportunity was lost to build bridges, at least gain a fuller understanding of the feelings of the ordinary decent believers in those far off parts. At the time, the words of Jesus come to mind, forgive forgive forgive, what a thought the early disciples said to themselves, he wants us to forgive, after what they have been doing for years. Nobody remembers the suicide bombing last month last year or last week in Afghanistan, or Baghdad, the many thousands of lives lost, accept those affected in those parts, the news forgotten elsewhere, business
as usual in the minds of many, we have become immune to murder almost, then we get this horrible news, and it’s local, and media, the global outrage, the talks in cabinet, the preparation of a response. It was a time for calm heads, why rush to judge, the antics of a mad man, why blame a nation or a religion. Jesus got it right all those years ago, and it’s time we started listening.
Solomon had the visit of the Holy Spirit, he wondered not what it meant, just let God do his thing, and that is love through us all. The demon was smiling this morning, hatred sown, more victims for the fire of hatred, well done!, well, Solomon saw a different picture, a lot of healing had just begun in the unlikeliest of places, in the hearts of many, amen.