You saved a life today….

Are you listening, read on, you actually saved a life today, she shakes her head, this guy is looney, she is a nurse, he is a psychiatric patient, long term, she plays along, say nothing, this guy is nuts, his smile, she has seen it a hundred times, you saved a life today, he is repeating the same words, the look in his eye, the sooner she is out of the room the better, your meds, he takes the glass of water in his hand, closes his eyes. She watches him swallow the pills, job done. See you later she says, as she turns to leave the room. He is a long termer, no prospect of getting released, institutionalised.

She is about to close the door, he calls her back, I got a present for you he says. From under his pillow, he removes a plastic bag. He skakes it at her, her eyes widen in surprise, the red blues and pinks, she recognises them, pills.

Like I said he smiled, you saved my life today.

How did I do that she asks tentatively, while taking the plastic in her hand.

You said hello with a smile that’s all.

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Silencing the Doubters…

What will I say, how will I defend myself, what are the options, the young apostle is asking the question many have on their minds, they are being sent out, he wonders what the support package includes, this is a risk filled world, they have traps baited, and they expect the new recruits to fail. The master answers, I will send you the Holy Spirit, He will give you all the answers, and if that doesn’t convince them, I will remove the obstacles, you just have to believe.  The usual suspects laugh as they see the line of believers, there is a rather cynical attitude prevailing in the minds of those who have controlled the scene for a long time. They have used every trick in the book, to undermine the confidence and faith of the believers. spied, tried to harm emotionally, searched histories, did their worst, the repeating signs in the heavens, have made them wary, this one seems better prepared, they are tentative. they use those at the bottom of their pile to taunt and annoy, they even make promises to family.

Young Slim, is in bed, it’s the night before the big day, when he will set out, the next pioneer, the little turtle trying to get to the life giving water before being eaten. The vultures wait, waiting for him to appear, easy pickings, once he is out of the shelter he is ours. Ever see one of those Clint Eastwood movies, well, just imagine yourself in it. Remember the residents of Nazareth, wasn’t he the carpenter’s son,  how could he be any good, a Son of God, give us a break, they spit on the ground, waiting to undermine. Well, the turtle got to the water, David toppled Goliath, and all the old empires ended in the dust, and now, two thousand years later, the changes going on, are overwhelming many, and they all point to what was written in the past.

Solomon smiled, What is Spirit, and why do those in situ spend most of their time trying to undo it, while trying to maintain their own, isn’t that very narcistic, as if they thought the change would never come. Silence the doubters prayed Solomon, the Spirit crises out, amen.

The Source

The wrinkles, deep and old, taken awhile to acquire them, the signs of character, why try to get rid of them, nothing wrong in showing who you are. Solomon was talking with a friend, the timing was good, the sun was out, and the two of them were re calling, older times. To the outside world it didn’t seem much, there was nothing you could take away, you had to experience it, they were talking about the source, where it all came from.

It’s like a river, they just don’t appear out of nowhere, Solomon nodded, he is a student, listening. The finished product was what most were interested in his friend said, while the journey was what made it what it was.

Solomon imagined a giant river, it could be the Ganges, the amazon. When you think of them, you see a mass of water, flowing strong, deep and constant. How they start, it was the same as an oak tree, a single acorn grows, as for the big river, it begins with the trickle of a stream, after many threads join together, it becomes a big river. Jesus said much the same, all of us are Spirits, we need to create the space inside by simply following the Father’s teaching, no big deal.

In the space of an hour, Solomon and his pal solved a few mysteries, not by trying to be smart, but by listening in a non judge mental way. Could anyone learn this his friend said, Solomon nodded, it’s like the big river, you have to understand how it got so big; it was nothing to notice at the start, just follow the treads.

The weaver sits at the loom, strings of wool, different colors, it requires patience, his fingers are practiced, his foot works the pedal rhythm that turns the loom, he feeds in the different treads, mixes the colors, after awhile a pattern emerges, after that a colorful garment. Life is just like that, lots of strings connected, a few failures to begin with, a practice time, experiences, and finally, a life lived. Imagine it, that big river was no more that a drip when it began, and look what it is now, amen.

Suffering What, good for me!

You are just being relocated Jones, it’s not that we are getting rid of you, see it our way, you are being moved, an even better job opportunity, won’t you feel great, you will be thanking us afterwards, she smiles through her bleached teeth, her half moon smiles runs as far as her ears, and those nauseating glasses, frame less, all Mr Jones can do is sit there, bite his lip, they are giving him an extra 10% severance, there is nothing he can do, it’s the ultimate breakup, he is going to suffer regardless. Good for me he howls, his arms surround his office bits, pictures of the children, what will he tell the wife, there is a mortgage to pay, and the health cover they have currently is essential, one of the children has permanent bad health, good for me he howls, as he dumps the cardboard box on the back seat and gets into his ford. Suffering is good for me, he slams the car into gear, will I run a red light, too much too much, he calms down. The car is stopped at the corner, waiting for the light to turn green, Jones is all over the place, an old man comes out of a shop, so what, Jones watches him go to the alley, there is a trolley full of his stuff, the old man begins to push it, lame as well, looks like he needs a good nights sleep. Could be me, the lights change, the mood eases, it’s only anger now, cooling as he goes, suffering is good for me, what was she saying, probably had someone to clean her ass all her life…

No good comes out of suffering, well, many would disagree, how many lives have changed in such circumstances. Solomon sighed, what did the early believers feel, when they saw their Leader on the cross, helpless for awhile. Then the signs came, remain patient, and two thousand years later, He is still the one they pray to, how about that! , use my Name he said, the Holy Spirit will come, you just have to believe…the rest is history…

 

 

The Golden Child

They need a few words, the King asks, where is the poet, he must write the lines. The pages are before him, he wants to fill them with words, it’s the story of the inner child, the secret place where angels dwell, the mountains of bias and ego don’t exist yet, there is nothing to blind the little one. Everywhere he goes, he can see them, Spirits, only eyes that young can see them, eyes that have not been burdened.

Solomon read the paper over his coffee, the usual, the weekend games, the pundits and their fury, the fate of another manager, by the next day, it would all be forgotten, same way the car park fills and empties, we take new places, and we rarely remember where we parked the day before, unless it’s reserved of course, and we are made to feel important.

A baby sits before the music man, too young to be a fan, can’t spell his name, can’t recall the lyrics, he just bobs his head and listens, the rhythm gets him, and so it gets the angels, who he see’s floating about, cause he is not blinded by things yet, but can see what seems eternal, the way faith is, you can’t see it, you can’t hold it, all you can do is

pass it on. The baby nods, listens with his friends, amen.

To be part of the Kingdom, as Jesus would say, you have to be just like that child. Solomon sighed, it’s amazing what you learn from a simple picture, amen.

Journey of My Soul

Man, did that get her attention, she hadn’t heard those words before….

words, what is he going to say next, they were all listening to the “Guru”, waiting for the inspired words to reach their ears, silence, they stare at each other, the assembled, inside they feel a little pious, well, they are the lucky ones to be in the audience, to even hear the words firsthand, Solomon sighed, imagine what it was like for Jesus, in real time, you can’t beat the original.

What is a journey anyway, it’s what happens in between the times you were born and the time you leave your soul, the meat in the sandwich, the experiences that you fell into, the niche you found for yourself, the choice between comfort and risk, decisions. A Journey is a serious of decisions, some made for you, some you make on your own. Solomon was at a group meeting, a bunch of story tellers, the theme they had to write on, the journey, the journey, so many different meanings, endless. Some journeys you make as a tourist, sightseeing your way through life without getting to know anything, some you make out of great distress, the troubles that befall you, and how you deal with them.

Then there are the journeys that change worlds’ Solomon smiled, he’d a few of those in his lifetime, not just one, but a whole bunch of them, each of them juicy on their own, but he got through the maze. His inspiration, those who made similar journeys, well, similar in that they caused him to take the risk, and go the route less taken, when you go jungle as they say, and forego the usual comforts.  Nelson Mandela, persecuted for taking a stand, Che Guevara, immortalized, Martin Luther King, too, the point being, those that made those choices before, laid the stones of future journeys for many, and each one of them, did it, one day at a time, the speeches only came at the end.

Monday, a new journey, he was asking for help, sure he would be assisted, as prayers made in the Holy Name, never go unheard, and it just happens. Believe, amen.

Will someone do the laundry!, everything is dirty…

Lessons in life, mother teaches her son, he is on his way to college, don’t forget to have clean clothes, she reminds him and reminds him, child is on overnight, mother’s first concern, cleanliness, doesn’t want to hear anything bad, you have to do the laundry, well, why does every mother and others, spend a little of their day, cleaning up. Too simple, so were the parables of Jesus, stories and lessons in one, a good movie, same as those Clint movies, dirty harry etc….

Eastwood that is, lessons in life, and if they are entertaining, all the better, they will get our attention and are more likely to stay in our heads, longer than mere facts.

Solomon was commenting on the wisdom of Jesus, and how simple he made things. He had a Spirit inside him that cut to the heart, his words literally pierced your insides. In the world of judgement’s, the analysis of a life, the juries getting heat, the newspapers are getting print, the spin experts getting heard, the machine of news runs and runs, they never run out of ink, till the eyes start to look elsewhere. In the meantime, they dig up corpses to grab your attention, tossing the worst dressed excess at you, hoping to appeal to your inner sensitivity, well, to say you didn’t listen, is almost as bad as what was wrote, guilt rises, you have to have an opinion.

Surprisingly, if they don’t have a near by victim to pin the accusations on, they don’t bother to write about the issue at all. Well, say it as it should, and one day you will get to the truth, the real truth, not the abridged version.

Jesus stands in the square, the crowd gathers, blood is going to be spilled, the woman is tied to a post, bunches of rocks are gathered, ancient Jewish text says this is the applied punishment for adultery. The men in long beards are ready, the Pharisee is about to read a prayer before they rain down rocks on her, their Judgement in, mothers bring their daughters, just to warn them, this is the result of breaking the law, watch it girls. The woman who is judged, head down, waits for the first blow, then she feels a soft hand on her head, she looks up, meets a pair of compassionate eyes, eyes that don’t judge, they understand. He turns to the crowd, waiting for the game to start, his eyes scan the crowd, going face to face, inside they feel the power of the gaze, as the stuff they have been hiding comes to the surface. The conceited pharisee, who is about to give voice to the lords decree, as per the scriptures, feels angst inside, as his own guilt surfaces. Then Jesus asked,

“who here isn’t got dirty laundry somewhere, well, get on with it!”

Solomon imagined the great drama, Jesus on his knees, his finger writing in the sand, then wiping the words away, as if he had come to bring light to the words of God, by wiping the teaching of men from the minds of all. Well….