Hole in the Ground…

You don’t expect me to dig that he said, His Father was pointing to the spade, hurry up. A plot had been marked out, he was being asked to dig a drain. Machinery can do that he sighed, shovel in hand, he found the spade easier to dig it, it cut through the soil easier, whatever. If he wanted to use the car, he had to dig the hole, so he saw it. Half an hour, a little progress, this is going to take an eternity, his fingers were not used to such work, they were beginning to blister, what would they be like by dinner time. He kept on checking his watch, mobile phones did not exist in those times. I could ring the landscape company ho thought, and hire one of those little machines. And his father would be off all the afternoon, he imagined the surprise on his father’s face, to see the job completed before the due time, think of the credits he’d earn.

Many years later, they gather for the anniversary celebration of his Fathers passing. He is there with his brothers and sisters, friends, they reminisces, tales are told. His wife is with him, their children too. He was always a teacher, Father, said his sister. He nods to his wife; she is after a bout of depression, she was in that state of loss for a few months, he wondered how they got through it all. Then he thought of his father, that hole in the ground, patience.

Passing on the Spirit

How can you heal inside, those resentments you told so tight inside you, they are like rocks you cling to when in doubt, well that’s something true you think. Anger, to have a good reason for it, gives you the green light to feel like you do. So you get over the anger, eventually, that rock is no longer there to cling to, there has to be something else, you start looking inside yourself, your life instead of the faults others parade before you. We spend our life seeking relief from the world, planning our next break, looking into the future, aiming at some date into the future.

She listens to the old man, he has a weather beaten face, is out in the weather a lot, but his words have a resonance. You had the freedom of the world once, there was no where you couldn’t go, and you went everywhere, then the impossible happened, you became ill, the juggernaut stopped, leaving you in the middle of nowhere, how will you cope. Clinging to anger only drains you, makes you only more resentful, especially when you are feeling the emotions.

Can’t move too freely once, you are listening now, the fast paced life no longer practical. You begin to notice the life around you. How can this man your talking with be happy you think, there are none of the signs you associate with success. Still, you are listening.

We are all Spirit he says. You look at the shine in his eyes, there is something in there. The last time you saw that expression, you were looking into the eyes of a loved one. Just passing on the Spirit he says. You thought you stopped for a coffee, but what you got, was a lesson, on how we pass on y

our Spirit, well, this old man sure did remind you of other times.

Multi Person Syndrome

Who Am I today, what a question to ask yourself, then again, if you exhibit yourself in the world, you want to be seen, or create the impression, how do you want to be seen, Pope Francis has a woman grab his hand and arm, two handed,

she pulls him off step, he scowls, taps her on the hand, it’s the day he is due to make a speech on violence towards women, and there he is seen slapping a woman, tap tap, then henceforth, like a scorned child, he retreats to the temple, what, and the greatest wonder of all, no security police are needed to intervene, no guns are drawn. Every other leader in the world, would have had a posse of guns around him, and the pictures would have been all over the world, where security analysts, international experts, police handlers and others, would have been interviewed on the big TV, where all day, the story would be repeated, again and again, when in fact nothing in truth had happened at all. Are we all that easy to manipulate.

Solomon was wondering how to reconcile, all the violence in the world, with the will of Peace and Love, the will of God in fact, do we ever listen to the words of Jesus, God is inside you, tap your heart, inside you, stop, but does God mix well with violence, or more succinctly, can you Love God and Love violence at the same time, is it possible. It was a mute point, the year is 2020, the changes are continuing, miracles and great events, weather warnings, many will be praying for Help, petitioning the Holy God of All, so, with wisdom in mind, you don’t need to fill the head with violent images, neither do children, amen.

Who Am I

The questions in the hearts of many, what is my life, who am I, why do I exist, what is my purpose. Seated in a cafe, outside of course, no borders exist, we all breathe the same air, enjoy the same sun, she twiddles her thumbs, she has come a long way, crossed many borders, had adventures you want to forget, had to sell herself, we all need to be fed, and a hungry child doesn’t ask where the dinner came from, the little eyes look up at you, for me they ask.

The time of the arrival of Christmas, a festival of praise, our way of giving thanks to God. She looks at the men and women passing by, their arms holding bags, it reminds her of the time, when all her possessions could be held in them, apart from the child she held to her heart. Who Am I, she keeps on asking.

An older man passes by, catches her eye, and smiles at her. Her fears are put at ease, he is not one who will betray me, she can see it. Who Am I.

Refugees, immigrants, women seeking shelters, children seeking example, Solomon was reminding himself of past times, the race to buy the last gift, wondering what they might think of him, did he spend enough. Years later, he sits with two codgers, he having escaped death in this life by divine intent, no longer worried what others thought of Him, think about it, the One who made life real for us all. Who Am I, a child of God he said as he passed her by.

Who Listens?

He raises his voice, the teacher, everyone listens, he is serious now. There is a quake inside, can’t afford to close the mind, the words pour out, there is not a sound in the room, there is full attention, he is the respected teacher. Tone of voice, respect, an interest in learning, a future, it’s important how the words come out.

The baby is in the chair, the mother is trying to feed baby, come now, the baby gurgles and laughs, is playing, mother is not impressed, she has the laundry to do, and there are a HUNDRED other jobs to be done, baby of course does not understand, living is playtime, everything baby see’s is amazing. Come now she says, while the spoon of mulch approaches baby mouth.

The Preacher is at the altar, making a speech, wants the attendance to really listen, he has his pride too, the numbers in the congregation are falling, what was a full house is now a dribble, but the preacher continues to work hard, he wants to do some impro, off the cuff, but he is not allowed to stray from the guidelines, words from the Bishop, who smiles, how did we get this far he says, as if casting an eye to a time, two thousand years ago, when there were large crowds following Jesus.

Who listens, the ears are clogged, the eyes have been blinded, we hear the voice instead we see an image, we hear the words, yet we judge the speaker, even when we agree. Solomon wondered about the impact we have in life, and how aware we are, of that influence. On stage, a school, a mosque, a church, online, how do we listen, how we use email, do we intend to upset. How do we listen; feedback usually helps, amen.

Can I Ever forget….

Ten thousand feet, the bomb drops, the cheer goes up, the plane turns away, did you see that, Solomon was reflecting, how difficult it is to forgive oneself, the crew learn hours later, they see the carnage on the TV, we did this, the memory becomes embedded, a twist in the heart, call it what you like, but inside there is a need to forgive this, and you think, we were misled.

Solomon was reading a story of ideology mixed with wisdom, based on a small world, that was part of something cruel, the days of the second great war, and how so many were sucked up into the vortex: the days of redemption had arrived, how many got involved, in what turned out to be something very sinister indeed. From a distance, it seemed to be the actions of a few bad men who caused the attempted genocide of the Jewish People. In context, the seeds for change had been sown into the heads by many, from all across the world, Germany being the staging point for this social catastrophe.

Reading the words of scripture, how people are misled, where false Leaders emerge in time of crisis to form solutions, that part answers

the problems we want addressed, it’s too easy almost. Jesus of course warns us; The Kingdom of God is inside you, you just have to create that space, and when it comes to space, it’s the resentments that cause all that inner space to used up, while it’s forgiveness that cleans it out.

Spirit Woman

She screams but no one hears, it’s inside her, the torment, find me peace of mind, where, a thousand thoughts a second pour over her, it’s as if she is being bombed mentally, everywhere she looks, for you for you for you, I can’t get my head around this, she pleads, give me your peace, she can’t understand what is wrong, then she hears a voice, spots a face, her calm returns, she feels God is with her.

As Jesus said, we need space for the Spirit to reside in a healthy state, tell us, it’s something we all know, peace of mind, priceless. Solomon was remarking on the many souls he encountered on his walk through life, all of them, the descendants of past generations, habits and mysteries passed on. How do we create space when the world is on top of us, the bills, the education of the children, me time, sorry but the holidays have been cut, what, her thoughts interrupted,  I was trying to find space, she hears the mail drop into the box, what this time, she is anxious again, her money is short, what do they want this time.

So many walls are built to prevent us reaching the peace of mind we so badly need, so many give up and accept it, and those who protest about it, well, they are radicals. Solomon recalled years ago, all the weirdo’s, the strange stuff, well, it was never strange, was about longer than conventional religion, it was just never explained to us.

Is it possible he sighed, to set aside a week, one entire week in our long journey, to figure out how to slow this train down; Mother Nature is tired, the water is not what it used to be, the birds are getting pissed with us, even our own children are on the streets, protesting about it all; As said, Children will teach us all, perhaps it’s time to listen.