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…

 

 

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Ezra Revisited….

Gather as much as you can, run home, store in on the shelf, look at it, put a price on it, polish it, dust it, those ornaments, re arrange them, stand at the side, they might look better over there, no, you change your mind, the way you part your hair after it’s been a certain way, you change it back again, that’s better, it looks familiar, you feel safer in the surrounds, same friends, well, you know each other, same habits, cause your friends, then as you get risque, you tell them of your experiences, the stuff you never told them, the weird dreams, the visions, you ask them what they mean, then they tell you, they had dreams too, and the story unfolds, and the wow moment, you had the same dreams, and maybe that’s why you’ve been friends.

Your sitting in the waiting room, it’s the doctor’s surgery, there is news you have to get, it will predict the future, well, will you be running marathons again or going for treatment, the life changing moments, the moment you feel real, and you know the news your about to receive, is going to alter your life, there is no way it can’t. Every thought comes to mind, the anxieties of old, when you had similar moments, the emotional gloom, then the high you got, when it all worked out. You let out a sigh when your name is called, you rise from your seat, you check the expression on the doctor’s face, and the tell tale signs.

Life can change in an instant. It wasn’t the tsunami earlier in the week Solomon was thinking about, but a memory long past’ He is walking across the busy city street, traffic is moving in all directions, the lunch hour has arrived, workers are in a hurry, they want to get to the early seats, some rush in and out of traffic. From the corner of his eye, he spots a girl, swerving between cars, out pulls a bus, she disappears under it, she might have slipped, she was in a hurry. That night he reads in the paper, young woman dies on busy city street, he is not a rubber neck type, doesn’t gawk, just reads the story, another life lost, probably changed the lives of many, parents, friends, husband maybe, boyfriend, work colleagues, and left a hole in the lives of many, that had to be filled somehow.

Why does it remind him of Ezra, the ancient prophet, he wasn’t sure. But there had been a few great moments of change going on, and for some reason, he knew they referred to Ezra, so he reminds himself. A lot of what he said, had in the main, occurred, maybe coincidence, but it was no coincidence, That he had encountered the Spirit himself, as he found the words that needed saying, any time he sought.  Leave the great legacy behind you, amen, that’s what Ezra did, 2,700 years ago.

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….

Me Too Hungry….

Me Too, Me Too, what are you saying Liz, your not making sense, Me Too, what’s wrong with you, we are all hungry, give us this me too rubbish. The weathered woman looks up at the overhead satellite, keeping on eye on them, while they starve to death, Me Too, hunger, who isn’t. Her Friend is stirring the mash they call food, a ladle in one hand, a mobile phone in the other, a modern smart one. She is reading about the Me Too revolution going on, she wonders if it’s a game show, many famous people are involved. Me Too she shouts, her friend sitting in the shade turns around, will you give up this Me Too rubbish or we will send you to the asylum. At least they will feed me there she replies, with a laugh.

The old lady gets up, wonders over to her friend, what is this Me Too business. Sitting in the middle of the desert, they are reading all about the new social media thing, what is it about, they don’t understand it. They press the right button, they go to an information section and donations, the younger one reads, she nods, Me Too she says, who hasn’t suffered in this world.

Suffering says the old woman, I haven’t not known it, amen, Me Too.

The Reason You Exist! TRYE…

TRYE, the reason you exist, big question, I haven’t time for this, I have a plane to catch, the speech is half prepared, and the babysitter is late, I know why i exist, will someone find me a nappy, Jesus, can babies shit, where are the wipes, damn it, those creams are so sticky, on my god, someone has dropped the nappy on my speech, please stop crying, the reason I exist, how the hell am i supposed to know this, I will deal with it later.

Pouring over the speech, worried about delivery, the pause, you have to get it right, like a catwalk model who know’s how to pose, timing, it’s important just to pause at the right moment. Tipexed out, you pass the splotched paper to your assistant, she will even wash your dirty underwear, and your smelly socks, she depends on you for her living, and the ball of cash, a dependent of sorts, you can’t exist without each other.

Eight in the evening, and you return home, exhausted, you fall onto the couch, the baby sitter smiles, baby ate and slept well, you sigh, i can deal with that, one of these days baby will be going to school, and you will smile, cause you were responsible for getting her that far, well, you and the babysitter, why do I exist you ask. You climb the stairs to the bedroom, you feel your chest tighten, panic hits you, is this the moment, when you won’t exist.

The hospital is bright, your helpless, wires stick you, and machines all around you, suddenly, all you can think of, why have I been doing all this. You realize your an egotistical smile, the money you made will never be spent, and the friends you have, are not friends ,just acquaintances, the only thing you have in common, wealth, and there is no feeling in that, unless your making plenty and getting high on the buzz. Why do I exist, the question runs through your head, the doubts that can’t be hidden by a busy routine.

You exist to overcome the material, in favor of Spirit, for how can it fly, if it’s burdened by what is temporary, amen, how can you pass it on!.

Don’t talk to Strangers

Good parental advice, the world is full of deviants, now follow my advice, don’t talk to strangers, the four year old’s are listening, why asks one child, a little more spirited than the others, well, the teacher has a check list, well, they might kidnap you, steal you away and bury you in a forest, steal all your Christmas presents, and… The child is smart, wonders what is in the head of the teacher, paranoia.

Child tells himself, it doesn’t make sense, is everyone really going to kidnap him. Who pollutes the mind he wonders. His friends share their stuff online, weird he thinks. His older brother and sister are always talking to stranger’s online, and no one has kidnapped them yet. paranoia.

Prop them up with fear, well, can you really get away with slapping your child mentally everyday, there is bound to be a reaction sooner or later, children are not stupid. How silly of you, says the head of school, did you not hear of the boy who was grabbed off the street, he was never heard of again, terror.

Feeding the fear, and paying for it later, Solomon sighed, they said the same of Jesus, all those years ago, he was considered a danger to society all those years ago, by society and it’s rulers, an upstart with opinions who challenged them all. Don’t talk to strangers, engage with like minds instead, Solomon sighed, the ghetto mentality has proved worthless, created borders, fired all sorts of hatred, encouraged bias, fueled envy, no.

Enlightenment, amen.