A couple of days ago I found a site on YouTube that arrested my attention. SermonIndex.net contained portions from the sermons of six preachers whose ministry together spanned more than half a century in different locations. Whatever their geographic locations, their sermons had a common theme. With one voice, they contended that there was a […]
She sits in the chair, a little subdued, the medication, she sits while she waits, she is not so sturdy, they gave her a diagnosis, the memory disease, well, it’s an age thing. The limbs don’t have the same stretch, your energy isn’t what it was, the eyes not a clear as they used to be, the appetite too, not as appealing, getting old they said, Mable sighs, I am on a journey, I’m not giving up, I am growing up. A mind of her own, her own ideas, she didn’t beleive the blarney of men in charge, thanks rubbish, who filled them with such stuff, who. She fought her life seeking equality, now the journey has brought her to the care home, at the mercy of those she railed against, those that followed the rules. A nurse approaches, Mabel frowns, the pills, the last time she refused it, they sedated her a whole day, and gave her god knows what. I was just forgetting stuff, doesn’t everybody do that. How much do so many hide inside their heads. How those playing games would change the topic once the questions got testy. No one is allowed question the experts.
Solomon smiled, the story he heard on the radio, the lady with the mind disease, all she wanted, treated me as I am, it’s not your pity I want. Getting old sighed Solomon, we just want to be accepted. The story is never ending, it’s just a change in circumstances, one day you breath, the next your a bird, flying somewhere. Do birds worry when they wake, do they reach for the medication. Mabel, she is a living being in a fast changing world, so fast, the time to look after her is no longer left to relatives, the world so busy, it can hardly look after itself.
The weather, warm and sunny, no one rushing, the only que at the ice cream van, mabel recalls the days of old, how everything that a mother could do was done, same as it always was, by mothers across the world. There is a bitter taste in Mabels mouth, its’ not the tablets, its the story in the paper. The role of women, whitewashed from all circles of importance from the beginning of christianity, then copied by other religions, framing the mind set, bastards she sighs to herself.
Strong words, requires trust, the need for bravery, but lets stop here, the news was of another world, the ability to rise the Spirit, the ability to make well, put down your worries and leave them behind, follow me. How can you do without and still have enough, the words are a contradiction, how can they make sense, what is the meaning of the world, what is the meaning of the word, how can God live inside you, who can do that. These are the thoughts surrounding the early apostles, and early followers. What is my life without all those things, I feel better with a Jet in the car port, my pride rises, it makes me feel good, others think better of me, and you want me to give it all up. It must have been a bit of a downer, having so much of this world then realizing it didn’t count for anything ounce it was over, you life. Solomon had many plus and negative moments, made some difficult choices, same as many before. Listening to the words, give it all up for me, what can that mean.
Solomon slept in it over night, the answer was easy. The stuff of this world does not last, it doesn’t matter, it is out when your gone, what else is there to leave. Solomon recalled the names, those that inspire us deeply, the stuff that moves the soul and heart, he never saw a price tag on it though. It’s easier for the bird to fly when the load is light, amen.
The yeast in the mixture, the smile on your face, could it be that easy you ask. The glance across the office, that says it’s okay, we got over it, you can approach me and ask, the fear that is dismissed with eye contact, what’s the worry, the sincere expression that cannot be faked, when it’s real its’ real. the role of every life, Spirit raising, assumes that there is somebody more important that yourself in the room. The child comes home, the shoulders are shrunk, the child is worried, the mother knows immediately, what’s wrong she says, the child is not afraid, he slowly tells the story, in a minute he is feeling all right.
Imagine, Solomon sighed, it was a hard emotion, the small friend who can’t explain it, the fear that his phone hides, the worries of the bigger ones, the fear that is trapped and can’t get out. Solomon was sending the reminder to himself, those who were left behind while those who built themselves kingdoms thought it was all right. the toe rag mentality was a mind set of those of arrogant disposition, he had encountered them regularly, so he warned them about the Spirit, well, it was possibly the best news possible since the days of old, God is real, I have seen the Spirit, watch this space, amen.
Solomon smiled, it was passing on the Spirit, it was just an every day thing, no idols, amen.
In a dream, the faces are clear, children transform into demons, preachers act the part, they rise the crowd, there are many who want to believe, the runaway bus, the church under repair, the driver gets out, wants to be saved, the man with Spirit, the words of the preacher, so many want to believe, they know the name, they ask for a story, he is shocked and amazed, he can see the faces. they all want to help with the repairs. How is this possible, in dreams, faces he has never seen, it’s a warning and an assault on all that he knows, those that mislead and those that want to be lead, the sheep seeking the shepherd, the shepherd turning into a wolf. Solomon sighed, he did encourage the words of Jesus, and there were those who didn’t want to imagine; this world is not the end of the drive, it’s a turn around the road, from being out of control, your suddenly in the driving seat, responsible for your life, and you have to account for it, there is no escape from it, the uncomfortable truth, the truth of eternity, the everlasting gift, amen. Stacking all the cash, gloating over the control you think you exercise over others, the sly grins, the stuff you got away with, it’s all nonsense, you have to account for every yard. Solomon say the Spirit, the one that answers to the Heavenly power, just done, it’s real.
Those misleading those who believe, were going to get the ultimate warning. Amen
What are you doing, I’m talking to you, the small child ignores his senior, continues with the virtual game, it keeps the mind occupied, what difference does it make he thinks, an extra half hour on the machine, he punches the buttons, it’s exciting, ignores the older person. Child is dismayed, watched a documentary recently, the failure of the adult population and now the existence of the world is endangered, enjoy it while you can, he has heard all the feel good blurb, one life, do what you can, chase the power and the cash, and the thrill if you can, everybody else is at it, Doesn’t God understand, the child is engaged in mind, the game continues, heard some leaders on TV, the game is all that matters, well, he picks up on the propaganda, can fool his mother his teachers, just about everyone, what are you looking at Big Brother, I’m doing what you have all been doing all these years, looking after yourselves, he looks at his older brother with contempt.
The Bishop makes an appeal in church, the environment, the little boy listens, wishes that the bishop was more exciting, and said something he’d hadn’t already heard. They preach from comfortable positions, you are not fooling anyone. as for the Treatment of women, this child has heard from his grannies conversations with friends, he is a bit of an eavesdropper, all children are, the desire to learn burns inside them. Voting rights only arrived in the last hundred years, and they burned women for having ideas, the little boy listened to those stories, didn’t like what they did to women, he loves his mother, and now they call themselves his mothers friends. does not like his mother portrayed as a sexual object either.
Solomon smiled, the wisdom of God and the foolishness of men, they haven’t a clue. Leaders rise up, and make fools of the usual candidates, Donald Trump comes to mind, every vice of the human race, seemingly, his brand is bumped into cyber space, and the sound byte gets him elected, the elongated strategies of the solid candidates ignored, same as the child and his little brother, why should you listen to more of the same, when in the past they let everyone down, the child is no fool, and no one fools God. Well, playing games with climate change fools no one ,a case of a boy called wolf, amen. Power, money is control, watch them come, watch the forests burn, really…
And you want to send example to your children, they usually imitate you.
A lot of bloodshed, a lot of heart break, does anyone remember their names, hardly, Amo nods in the bed, still a teacher, he listens, it’s all that He can do these days, listen. You are not feeling well he says, his visitor is an old friend, they were in college together, that is sixty years or more, over a hundred and twenty years between them, come to think of it, a lot of living time on the planet, a couple of major wars, the great one in 1939, do they all remember that, ration cards, doing without petrol, driving the car twice a week, if you were lucky enough to have one.
I’m getting old Amo, says the friend, not unlike yourself, they share a smile. They went on the odd holiday together, when travel was a huge experience, not the twenty four seven event it is now, when tickets to anywhere can be bought within hours of flying, and half the price when you do. Amo sighs, everything moves on, in the end we leave behind what, memories, that are hopefully, a legacy of a sort. The old friend, nods. Will anyone remember us, the thought is on his visitors mind, Amo has no such fears.
Immune to the news, Solomon sighed, when we hear too much of it we switch off. There is another appeal, another famine zone, another disaster, another social meltdown, the car moves along, the radio is changed, music, an awful lot happier, positive. Immune are we, to news and all that we don’t want to hear. Solomon pursed his lips, an observer, he watched it all. It must have been the same at the time of the ancient prophets, the news no one listened to, the descent into pleasure, this is going to last forever. Time tells us, it never lasts, maybe that’s what we need to recall, it is all passed on, your habits, good bad or indifferent.