She stands around the hot hob, her arm goes anti clockwise, as she stirs the healing mixture. Sometimes her tears fall, sometimes she sings, she adds a few herbs, and if she spots someone really ill, she adds an extra bit. Solomon sighed, how food well prepared and served with care lifted the Spirit within. It reminded him of the words of Jesus; how you disperse your charity, with humility. That’s it he smiled, that’s who she reminded him of, the caboodle they created, was the tastiest in the world, and you could never get enough while feeling fulfilled, you were left unfulfilled and wanting for more, yes he sighed, they serve the food of life, amen, thanks.
Everyone is up for the game, it is all over the papers, in the heads of everyone, there is a bounce in the step, it is on the edge of domination, the thoughts in many heads, all about the big match. It will last eighty minutes, and there will be rejoicing for some, misery for others, and by the evening time, the big game will be forgotten, replaced with another Big Match, talked up, when the frenzy will repeat itself, the addicts dream.
In the middle of the joy to come, you can let the hair down, your excess’s won’t be noticed, same as your lust in those poor parts, where women are cheap, but as you open your eyes, its’ on everyone’s mind. Why are they not at the beach like the rest of us, then you remember, the big game.
Twenty per cent, probably an awful lot more, with deep seated addictive minds, and no shortage of replacements; the children can’t do without the gadgets, the parents don’t have the patience. The urge for the next hit, once you have that feeling, the big match is the cover, well, we all want to get out of our lives, when it becomes a drug, well, you are in lots of company.
Solomon sighed, how the mood is so easily changed, could be a name dropped at an inappropriate time. As for the big match, can you put yourself back to the times of the early preachers; no doctors, no hospitals, but faith in many hearts, they are all believers in the Heavenly God, problem is, it has never been fully explained, it’s inside you. Then they hear about the Healer, the testimonies, he has the power of God in him, now, that is what you call, a big match, and it lasts for ever.
Solomon, is in bed, he is contemplating, asking for help, always. There is no reason to feel proud, no one makes it alone. The air whirls, the Spirit appears, darn, this is help from the Heavens, and it’s been happening ever since.
The second you pause, stop, the eyes open wide, the memory is born, you didn’t race past on the way to your next appointment, you stalled, you might not plan it, you had to stop, a second look, how the first impression is real every time. Solomon recalled the army of good souls, out there today, trying to impose their truth rather watching who the audience was, you don’t need to lecture, you just need to live it if you believe it, deeds.
A boy pulls a box on wheels, a wooden box with round bits stolen from a supermarket trolley, the boy wasn’t going anywhere, he was going around in circles, and his two pals were chasing after him. Solomon watched from the comfort of the upmarket saloon, a car another drove. The drop was a quick stop, a five minute call, the neighborhood wasn’t friendly, no jewelers or anything like that, maybe a rehab center, as close as it gets to humanity. How important was that first impression, how important is every act of kindness, they add up.
In the modern world we tend to leave caring to charity workers, by passing the inner soul, as if we are management level, and leave the hands on stuff to others. The inner soul is God’s refuge inside, and it needs to be exercised, it does not live on good intentions, you have to get involved. As time passes, the need for a more emotional world is becoming so obvious; without souls that care, what is left, not a whole lot.
Solomon recalled that little boy and his pals, who appeared around the corner, pulling their imaginary car, with a piece of string that someone discarded. First impression, how they fared after that, the three young friends, who knows, but they made an impression on Solomon and his heart process, amen.
Darn, the buzzer goes, the alarm clock buzzes, who could be at the door, she clambers out of bed, bumps into the chair, what time is it, she wipes her eyes, clearing, the buzzer goes again, I’m coming she shouts, she knows the voice; frantic words are muttered outside, you have a ten o’clock and you are behind, she fumbles with the lock. The door opens, she retreats to the kitchen, the kettle is set to work, her assistant is done up to the nines, darn, she looks better than me. She opens the press, where are the pain killers, she has a brain rush, you need to order more of these, she holds up the noisy container, two or three loose tablets left. Then she thinks to herself, the sleepers, they are getting low too
, and there could be an emergency, she dismisses the thought, the time she dropped the container on the bathroom floor, and how sticky they were when she tried to pick them up. What about the anxiety stuff she thinks. Her assistant says nothing for a few minutes, she has been through it before, addict central.
The placebo affect, golly, you begin to feel better when you actually believe it, the Spirit, the initial push, the way opens, in those moments of searching, seeking a reason to believe, the aches, the anxiety you felt a minute before eases, same as the feeling you get when going to a big dinner, you look forward to the good food, forward looking, the point being, you are looking ahead.
Solomon encountered the addict, well, he encountered a few, and he was listening. The conversation was muted, addict was trying to direct the conversation, pointing at weakness’s he perceived that would distract Solomon, a tactic many use, deflecting. Solomon listened, this hurt, he saw how his companion was trying to control the situation, why would he want to do that, hiding from himself?
Feeling good, there is news of a cure, Solomon read the news, A rod was telling all the good news, he got the all clear. A believer, he thanked his faith for keeping him in the zone, he wanted to get well, had not given up. Solomon smiled, as soon as we realise that we are all bit players in a great movie, when we consider this, and apply it to our lives, we will see the value of our existence, no matter what angle we take. Don’t we all seek meaning in life, our purpose….
As said before, if you don’t believe, why are you doing it for!
Hair greased, slicked back, he is not attitude, he does not recognize authority, not of the human kind, his goal is heavenly, has seen his home village destroyed, the pain and trauma, the cheap words of world leaders, after every atrocity, they have been saying the same thing for years, pass the book, let the next set of leaders take the chance, see how long will they last, meanwhile plan for retirement, and a comfy living, while observing the harm, from all their inaction. Did Jesus say the same, words are great, prayers too, but without love in actions to support, what were you anyway, an empty vessel, a lot of noise and nothing else, as for those long winded applauded speeches, just yellow paper now, faded as the dreams were, the hopes raised that never flew. The Young Turk does not intend to suffer that fate. He is patient, he intends no harm, and will do his thing, he does not want to loose the heavenly connections, that is what has been happening, these last fifty years. The Young Turk has ideas of his own, prays it straight, and when he does, the help always arrives, no fool him.
So many refugees on the move, so many trying to find a home, clean water, it used to be all over the place, why did we have to pour poison into the water; well, the child in rags playing in the rubble, forever hopeful. Solomon sighed, may the schemes of extremism and those who plan such things, implode of the extremists, amen. can’t we just accept we are different at times, amen.
Solomon sighed, he told the health professional a few details of Life in the Spirit, the struggle between the material and eternal life. Well, it’s not easy being a believer sometimes; it puts an onus on you.
He has no teeth when he laughs, there is just a wonder in his eyes, you asking me he says, what could be interesting about me; the school children are doing a survey of the aged, they are on a return visit to the retirement home; Old Murt laughs, My life, you want to know about it, the children nod. It was simpler then he says, he looks around him, there is disdain in his stare, used to care for the elderly, at home, at home he says to himself, in those days they did lots different. He doesn’t want to discourage them, they are young, and every generation strives to do it better, improve on it. Murt finds he isn’t tired the way he is when talking to the aged, his own age. Young ones are enthusiastic, energy, he can pick it up.
My life, Solomon sighed. He’d heard from a few climbing the mountain; they believe this and that, good at rituals, rules for food, times, it’s well laid out, not too hard to follow; Then Solomon sighed, if there is no love in it, what does it matter, My Life, amen.
Are you sure this is a good place to set up a stall, the other bear nods, he is wearing sun glasses, does not want to be recognized, it’s a desperate time, and finding a new home is not easy. The stall they set up is outside the big rock concert, it is a petition gathering enterprise, and there is the hope also of meeting some of the famous campaigners, the bears have definite ideas, and they are front line spectators of the ice debacle. They are even offering free ice lollies for anyone who signs up. A child asks, are those fur coats real, the older bear smiles, Fur, who uses real fur these days, everything is fake these days. It was a bold decision, coming all the way from the Arctic, well, they got caught on an ice berg, and ended up in San Francisco. The signs were all friendly too, they even formed a committee to save them, those San Francisco Nationals.
Fox’s leave the forests, joining more and more in the cities, lot of waste food there. The two polar bears do the happy bear dance, one foot to other and back, sign up sign up. Are they really fur coats another child asks. The signing is going well. A dozen rare parrots fly in formation, they are escaping the Amazon fires, they are on the California coast, flying north, they want to cool down. One of them Spots the two polar bears at the stand, shouts out to the others, I think we have reached Alaska he says. Well, where do you expect to find Polar Bears these days?.
He closes the door, the walk isn’t too far, he wants a cigarette, a fix in the morning a bite in the afternoon, a few cans in the middle, and by four he will be out of it again, outside the world. She will pass by him and shrug, he is on a bench outside the church, lifting her eyes to heaven, she remarks
, did you see the like of that, alcohol drenched sloshed in front of your church, no respect she mutters beneath her breath. He eyes her as she passes; would she ever throw a few coins, has she any heart at all. She can hear his thoughts, his eyes stab her like daggers, in the back. All he does is drink it, she ignores him and walks on.
Mrs O’Neill says the cashier, she is inside the women’s fashion shop, everywhere, it’s spotless and shiny, she is there to try the new dress, there is a wedding coming up. It’s awful what you see on the street these days remarks Mrs O’Neill, referring to the drunk slumped over the bench down by the church. The attendant ignores the remark. A half hour later, Larry is slouched completely, lying motionless on the pavement now. In sleep land, he does not notice Mrs O’Neill as she passes; the smell of alcohol and that other smell, have they no respect she says.
Solomon heard two women in conversation, the sight of alcohol soaked bodies hanging around the sanctuary is too much for them, they have to speak up. What the children are exposed to one of them says. Solomon smiled, God works in wondrous ways, giving us tips, and angels come in all sorts of guises, many times just warning us all, of the outside worlds.
She sits in front of her desk, her notes arranged to the side, the stuff she wants to express on the screen; in a full on world it’s not easy to be heard, and it’s more difficult when your a woman, she sighs, all she wants is understanding, someone to say to her, you are not mad, there is nothing wrong with you, you are fine. A child comes in from school, has some art work in his school satchel, is keen to show it to his closest; this is what I done, it’s all I want to say, understand me.
She pushes the chair with her hands, she lost the use of her legs in a stupid accident, and worse, it was preventable, a darn bug she collected. She sighs, that creep inside her, upsetting her life, how dare it. But as sure as the disease came it can be overcome. Every day she reaches out to others, remains strong inside, her Spirit is what drives her, gives her understanding. Yes, she has her moments too, and she has a lecture prepared for her heavenly encounter, you have been warned she says to herself; you cut off a layer of understanding she says, as if talking to God herself.
He checks the schedule, he is a busy man, has a family, company duties and hobbies. Occasionally he lectures others. He goes through the calendar for the month, smiles, few off times, great he says to himself, no gaps in the CV for this month.