The Jesus Conference

Was it that hard he sighed. he came from the end of the earths, south of the pole, to add his experiences. Abide in his ways and you will find peace. When he first heard about it, “The Jesus Conference”, it had to be a success, what other figure in history promoted it so well and healed by word, no other. A great idea he thought. It took him an entire year to raise the fare, but he got there. Even high up in the Andes they heard of the great one, and many times in history the helper had arrived. The preservation of the forest, the preservation of the world was at risk. They will be enlightened.

All he found, trinket sellers and fiery nobodies, blinged out, with no reverence for Jesus at all; they were  using his reputation, that was all. He traveled a long way.

Solomon visited friends; some attended churches, some attended mosques, some prayed in private, some didn’t pray at all, allowing their deeds to describe themselves. One thing in common, they all believed in Jesus. How come they never came to a common agreement in this issue. With his mind on finding a solution, Solomon imagined a conference, on the Topic of eternity, and Jesus. Before an idea becomes real, we must think about it, amen. It wont be long he sighed.

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Endurance and Love

 

Start at the end, she lies on the bed, holds a memory of him in her hands, a chain. each time she touches it she feels his strength. To this day she mourns for him, it was the heart she admired, it was her spirit he cherished. Solomon was remarking on the strength of love, and what it could achieve. The times they had endured; he was walking through the remnants of the human graveyard, once a city, it was now a memorial. He saw the thin figures scattered about, he had the photo’s on the wall to remind him, this actually happened; the gas chambers, the false teeth, the bones, the crematoriums. What proof did you need; what he saw devastated the human heart, a reminder what it could do, when it all went wrong.

The number is a tattoo on her arm, her memory, their memory. It was a difficult time, but their love endured; fifty years later he still makes her smiles; She tells her visitors; he always shared his ration with me, but he was a man when he died a young boy, amen.

There are those Dear Father in Heaven, of extreme views, trying in work their way into he thoughts and minds of all who are good, trying to sell them fear, pass on all that is wrong. remind them

for ever more, that their schemes will only fall on those that attempt to harm and no one else, amen.

Getting Married, or where did all the years go!

marriage, they were drinking in a downtown bar, an early house. Seven in the morning, the heads were drowsy, the hangover affect, the brain slow to engage, the words just a mutter, a sigh, a fart, what a life.

“Life is a marriage!”

What do you Mean jack?

Well, the day your born your into it, and the day you die you dissolve it, isn’t that a marriage. His friends looked at him, maybe that was it. Divorce was akin to a breakdown, a RETREAT. They shake their heads, his companions. You got it wrong they say. Marriage is a relationship bond, the promise to hang together not alone on the journey. When we get carried away, children arrive and we settle down.

The same way life is a marriage, the older you get, the more becalmed you become.

The Gallery Girl

Nerves, a shake of the hand, the opening of the exhibition, will there be anyone around. She read the blurb, how they extol the works of those long gone, who didn’t make a penny from it, yet they praise them all around, for the cost of buying the art today. The Gallery girl has no such illusions; she has heard all the talk, knows a certain truth, nobody does it for cash, they do it to show off the talent, a form of Gift, amen.

In war truth suffers first, the latest blockbuster about the Vietnam war, another example. Then it’s the artists, did the Dixie Chicks…

Dixie chicks really complain about the war in the Middle east, a million dead and injured many years later, on account of the rush to the front, like all artists, those with minds of their own, they offer a truth of their own.

How will God judge the exhibition, she is a believing gal; her talent is obvious, a gift. Will he wonder from exhibit to exhibit, or just look at the price tag and decide. Imagine it, God and the price we put on everything, in order to justify doing something about it; Gallery Girl Hurry up, there is an opening there for you too.

That Hurts!

On time she wakes, presses the button on the side table, the news. My pills, where are they, her first thought, can’t do anything without them, so see thinks. She is hiding demons; not demons inside, but the demons she is actively fighting. Her Spirit is strong, has been known to confront, no one mess’s with her, one strong woman they all say. In the morning no one can see her, the struggle, the weakness, the admitted failure; she drops two morning pills, they will put her on a calm cloud; she is ready to think.

She squeezes her hand, balls it, is the pain gone. She was playing guitar the night before; after there was a long ache, worse than a tooth ache; she wasn’t a talker, she played guitar instead. Her leather trousers are on a heap on the floor; she looks around for another pair of shoes; least she didn’t take home someone. It’s like the mind thing, when you forget, some things she wish she could forget it all; yeah, she had those thoughts, but they never went far, she numbed the demon first. That hurts, it’s her knee, she needs to sleep with it straight, her memory is vague; one thing she knows for sure, Her Spirit must remain strong, and that hurts sometime.

She had it all, another life lost, another star gone. So the pages said, the talent lost. But was it really; didn’t the events give an added energy to her works, as a new generation became aware of her artistic output, and would be influenced accordingly.

Daniel The Prophet – So what can your God do then…

In ancient times, and it’s recorded, there were demon Gods in existence, and there were those, who practiced the dark energy. Men worshiped rocks, and made sacrifices for this and that God, hoping to appease and find favor. Then there is the story of Daniel, (and many other stories of similar type). The kings advisers betray Daniel, the star of the Kings team of advisers by trickery, at which point the King throws Daniel to the lions. Daniel as legend has it, survived unhurt from his trials, at which point the King made them all worship Daniels God, what happened to the treacherous advisers, is probably gore, it doesn’t matter. The point being there are those who believe and there are those who worship demons. In the years in between the times of DANIEL, AND TODAY, there have been many remarkable events, that signify the existence of the Great God of Daniel, irrefutable, despite the efforts of many to rubbish His existence. Why are these stories still told; why do storms change course; what force makes that possible; why wasn’t Daniel eaten and chewed up by the lions.

In the world today, there are many wondering, what happened, as their lives are turned over in a single event, why did it happen to me. Solomon was reflecting on Spiritual Faith, faith in the Loving Spirit, not faith in the material, and what faith in the Spiritual way actually meant. He himself encountered Great Spirit and more than a few miracles, but is still surprised, that those who lead their flocks, fail to recognize, the healing power that Great Spirit disperses, when the love and Faith is real, amen. What happened to that Spirit, that used to reside in human hearts aplenty, what toxicity harmed it. He could imagine some, on their knees this moment, asking God, why me?.

Wisdom would assume, respect for the Higher Power of Heaven, amen. And as that respect gets stronger, divine assistance becomes easier; there being safe hands out there; ask Daniel.

In the Heads of us all…..

Can’t cope, can’t concentrate, you keep on running and those problems they keep following us. Life was a field of lava, it was all depending where you were. watching it from afar it’s not serious, up close it can all become consuming. He wondered, the flow of the lava and the human flow, or the race. He wanted to create a sermon that would help the congregation, they had been terrorized to long with the message of doom and damnation. They needed hope, a version of it that would stay in their minds. maybe that is the reason Jesus spoke in story terms: the legend would pass on, and while it may altar according to the sort of people who relayed it, basically, the use of terms common to that particular culture, the nugget would remain the same. That’s it, he saw it. The lava that flowed down the mountain, were the troubles that followed you, the problems you never dealt with, while salvation was the truth, how simple did that sound, how would he put it into the sermon, the performance was an hour away.