Joan of Arc

She passed on, this day in fact, the year 1431, burnt at the stake, she heard the voice of God, was filled with the Spirit, the same power that gives the swallow a lift, fly, the bird flies, and before her, as said all those years ago, by Jesus Christ, you murdered the prophets of God, and then built tombs to them and venerated them afterwards, the words of ancient scripture, come through, while the prophets are a tide that never fails to arrive, washing away the stone of stubborness, planted in the souls of men, who envied power and control. But the tide of Prophets comes and comes again, same as those warriors facing the machine guns with only swords in their hands. Is this the reason we are given examples of huge human loss, as the human tide tries to overcome the demon, amen. Solomon sighed, it is one way of viewing the journey, and the ever lasting eternal gift that is waiting, when the walls are breached and torn down. The souls mount up, the Body of Christ strengthens, layer after layer, until they fill the body of Man, thereby allowing the return of God’s Holy Spirit to earth. Solomon smiled, yeah, we have come to that moment, thank you Joan of Arc, and all those you inspired, amen.

Ironic really, those that tried to control the earth now have to clean up the mess they created, hurry up boys!

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Lifting The Spirit

“it does not lift itself, you have to pump the gas, there is an endless supply when we do.

Solomon was reading a story, the ancient worlds, well, 3,000, or 2,000 odd years ago, seems a long time, but when you break it down and add the years of a small community together, the combined ages of six families can exceed a 1,000 years lived very easily. In the days of old, walls made of mud, warm weather, the shepherds in the hills, the women fetching water from the wells, meals prepared in pots, smoke drifting across the yard, children playing, no one worrying either, is the goat getting fat, the only fear, the thought of war, otherwise, plain sailing, the only other threat, the fear of the Romans, they controlling the lands. The Original Jews, believers mainly, worshiping the sabbath, teaching in the temple, waiting for the Messiah to arrive, as written in their ancient books. A lot of discipline required, the communities labor daily, the pharisee’s play at politics, soothing the angst within the community, keeping the roman’s at arms length, who allow them freedom over their own affairs.

We read these stories today, and then we try to compare those times to these, we add what we perceive to be today’s way of thinking, todays standards, to what was going on in those times and we try and make it sound logical, which is not easy, if downright, impossible. Don’t Marry outside your own, do this, do that, adultery an anathema, you can’t have that, it will destroy the peaceful community, you can’t get a bus and arrive in New York, after messing up in Los Angeles. You get the point, it wasn’t as we see things today. But passing on the Spirit, the strengthening of it, passing it on to those already endowed with it, same as passing on your traits, getting stronger and wiser as a result. Lifting the Spirit,isn’t it great to have a Spirit that is strong and full of good purpose, rather than a Spirit that is strong and full of resentment and hate. One version leads you to a life of Great Hope,the other version leads to a world of tyrants. Nurturing in a sound environment, lifting the Spirit, amen.

Finding Love

I found it, I found it, the eureka moment, it was there all the time, i just didn’t have the time to notice. It could not be bought in the store, ordered online, stored in the garage, hung in the closet, it only existed when you created some, it was as living as the air. Once she accepted this, she found love everywhere she went, how simple she sighed, finding love could not be simpler. Finding a reliable man, well that was galactic by comparison, amen. She put on her make up, a few strands of hair were off center, her lipstick smudged, so what, he’ll think, what does it matter what he thinks, wasn’t that the problem all along, seeking in others what we already have ourselves, approval.

Voodoo Child

There has to be someway out of here, Jimi Hendrix, words written a long time ago, imagine the frightened child, here, there or in Aleppo. The joker cries, the thief inspired, I’ve seen the light he says. The mother groans, the small child is bleeding, the operation has been a success, the strange priest decree’s, she is safe she is safe, from what Jimi asked. Imagine, cutting young women and children in the name of God. Solomon was saying it, few in those parts were afraid to mention it, they are stronger, the women in fear, 200 million across the world and more, cut for no other reason, other than being the voodoo child. Jesus came to tell them to stop, none of that stuff was necessary, his father had no time for it. Reading about it in the news, he hoped Mrs Clinton would cross the winning line, even to lift the women in those far off places as well, amen.

Brave

Small in stature, big in heart, lots of understanding, he’s a friend of the Holy Spirit, he doesn’t answer, the teacher glares, stupid little boy she sighs, she’s almost overheard. He’s not going to repeat the error, she made little of him, humiliated him when he rightly answered the day before, she was getting over a hangover, he was in the way. No, they said, say No

to strangers, and those that make you feel bad, the child was listening, he was no chump, but a brave little man. Solomon was reminding himself and others, there is a God Most High, and those that terrified children in anyway, trouble was coming for them, brave boy, he answered right, he said nothing at all, amen.

Where’s The Medication

Can’t put it down it always picks me up, when i can’t find it i cant sleep, when i find it it’s such a relief, all that medication, prozac, zanex, valiums, and a thousand other combinations to choose from, which one will i choose to day, the void is everywhere i look, not happy with the doctor, the teacher, Donald trump, the news, everywhere i look, i feel a need for more medication, and it’s just so, i can’t survive without it, it’s in my head, my friends are on the stuff, not forgetting the billion or so addicted to it, has taken the lives of many people, some famous, the few, but the others who live in silence, in the western world, they talk of breakthroughs in health treatments, but no one has ever wondered who we got to using so much medication. Solomon wondered what had them all going crazy, depression, sleeplessness, stress, common with children, was there anyone out there capable of even presenting it as it was and is, a global pandemic, where’s my medication darling. Solomon encountered the best medication there is, proof of Real God Most High, not by books but by his own eyes, made him sit up and think, who needs medication, if all your going to do is worry about it.

Victory

Anger, resentment, pissed off with the neighbor, a friend to remind you, getting paid to upset people, getting used to hurt, enjoying the pain of it, knowing the fix that will help you escape it, the tranquilizers first, the bottle, the other hidden addictions, getting one over on somebody, and you call it a victory. The lawyer schemes, fills the client with ideas, doesn’t tell him to do it, just explains a thing or two, victory, the man does his neat work, the honest man is bludgeoned, the evil one goes free, victory for the lawyer, client gives him the bonus, the off shore bank account gets a boost, the local hospital is left short again, the wheel chair is not replaced, the nurse is taken off the rota, the old man is left alone, victory. Great, the estate agent smiles, with the cash he can bribe the bank manager, and the heroin continues to flow, the addicts grow in number, the honest souls don’t know what do do, victory. The lawyer, the estate agent, accountant and pals sip champagne and eat snacks, rare caviar that came direct from the black sea, victory. Solomon sighed, didn’t they know they were walking on thin ice, he’d encountered the Holy Spirit, so he began to write about it, the Real Victory, amen.