The Throne Room

He shows his guests around the fabulous drawing room, it’s filled with art works that you usually see in museums, he purrs as he explains; well I bought the Michelangelo when I made the deal for the..I bought the Van Goff a year later, the guests edge closer to the paintings, they want to get the smell, it’s overpowering to be surrounded by such power, well, the art pieces are not worth fifty or a hundred million, even if there are those who will pay the price, it’s the feeling of supreme authority, the fever of power, it’s so stimulating. In the company of such a power filled human being, it’s intoxication, and Mr Power knows this too well, and now that he is getting older, showing off to his friends is one of his hobbies. Did you see the way they react he says later that night, when all alone with his butler, his wife left him for the golf instructor a few years before.

While they gurgle with excitement, each of them wanting a private audience, this man can change lives, all they want to do it is imitate him. Change lives, change my life it seems, their mantra. Imagine, the lives we imitate in the pursuit of happiness. Solomon sighed, a happy breakfast; in the company of friends, food cooked with care, and no shortage of refills when the coffee is near the end. Solomon made tough decisions in his time, but there was one decision he had no choice over, the night the Great Spirit arrived, proof of divine help, the ultimate award. The riches of this world will be coveted by others, but the riches of Heaven, will be,

a love that is shared. Old Mean bag and his trophies, would leave a legacy of resentment, nothing more, as sure as sure is, when he moves on, those left behind, will gladly spill blood in order to get their hands on those trophies.

 

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True Love

The power of the prophets, the foundations of every great relationship, True Love. Solomon sighed, the Heavenly Father never lets down his own, he might rebuke them, teach them, spoil them occasionally, but he always acts out of love.

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The Big Match… Music by dire straits, read all about it, the sultans swing…

 

Everyone is up for the game, it is all over the papers, in the heads of everyone, there is a bounce in the step, it is on the edge of domination, the thoughts in many heads, all about the big match. It will last eighty minutes, and there will be rejoicing for some, misery for others, and by the evening time, the big game will be forgotten, replaced with another Big Match, talked up, when the frenzy will repeat itself, the addicts dream.

In the middle of the joy to come, you can let the hair down, your excess’s won’t be noticed, same as your lust in those poor parts, where women are cheap, but as you open your eyes, its’ on everyone’s mind. Why are they not at the beach like the rest of us, then you remember, the big game.

Twenty per cent, probably an awful lot more, with deep seated addictive minds, and no shortage of replacements; the children can’t do without the gadgets, the parents don’t have the patience. The urge for the next hit, once you have that feeling, the big match is the cover, well, we all want to get out of our lives, when it becomes a drug, well, you are in lots of company.

Solomon sighed, how the mood is so easily changed, could be a name dropped at an inappropriate time. As for the big match, can you put yourself back to the times of the early preachers; no doctors, no hospitals, but faith in many hearts, they are all believers in the Heavenly God, problem is, it has never been fully explained, it’s inside you. Then they hear about the Healer, the testimonies, he has the power of God in him, now, that is what you call, a big match, and it lasts for ever.

Solomon, is in bed, he is contemplating, asking for help, always. There is no reason to feel proud, no one makes it alone. The air whirls, the Spirit appears, darn, this is help from the Heavens, and it’s been happening ever since.

Ignore the news….

it’s so full of drama, confusion in many places, millions running to escape, others travelling thousands of miles to find a home, meanwhile, a young girl is telling all what to do, see how they threaten that young opinion, were our leaders not supposed to encourage questions, no more agree with it, your job is too precious to risk, does it not remind you of the time of Jesus, the similarities and the threats, the effort to rubbish the simple logic of a young girl, we heard it all before, and the best the commentators can do, is try to drown the message, cause it shows up their incompetence these last twenty years.

Solomon was reading some of the choice comments from supposedly clever people, who made less than flattering comments about the young Swedish girl Greta, was it not very hypocritical, the very things she was stating, was on the minds of millions, makes you think what the many millions thought, stand up, create space for loving Spirit to dwell in you, you will be delighted when you do, and more importantly, you are never alone.

Water

it’s the same as the air, it tastes the same to all, and without it, we can’t survive. Solomon was building the pillars of solidarity between all the main religions and the outsiders who had enough of it all, and had lost patience, water sighed Solomon, is that not a cause that involves us all. Imagine, the Great God of heaven who lifted Solomon from the iron threads that once trapped his body, was the same God they all worshiped, or so they claimed. Imagine it, back in the old days, along comes the spider, well, the news that makes all other news irrelevant; put away what separate’s you, focus on what you have in common. You want your children to grow up with a healthy frame of mind, you don’t want them adopting your petty bias’s, leave your frustrations to yourself, there is no point in infecting others, extremists do that, surely you don’t want to be considered that, an extremist. Water, we can’t exist without it, neither can we live in a healthy world, that does not give credit to the Holy Architect.

The news was great; the Spirit was flowing, and many were gaining a new understanding of their lives, and what their roles were. Life is a movie, we all play our part.

 

 

First Impressions

The second you pause, stop, the eyes open wide, the memory is born, you didn’t race past on the way to your next appointment, you stalled, you might not plan it, you had to stop, a second look, how the first impression is real every time. Solomon recalled the army of good souls, out there today, trying to impose their truth rather watching who the audience was, you don’t need to lecture, you just need to live it if you believe it, deeds.

A boy pulls a box on wheels, a wooden box with round bits stolen from a supermarket trolley, the boy wasn’t going anywhere, he was going around in circles, and his two pals were chasing after him. Solomon watched from the comfort of the upmarket saloon, a car another drove. The drop was a quick stop, a five minute call, the neighborhood wasn’t friendly, no jewelers or anything like that, maybe a rehab center, as close as it gets to humanity. How important was that first impression, how important is every act of kindness, they add up.

In the modern world we tend to leave caring to charity workers, by passing the inner soul, as if we are management level, and leave the hands on stuff to others. The inner soul is God’s refuge inside, and it needs to be exercised, it does not live on good intentions, you have to get involved. As time passes, the need for a more emotional world is becoming so obvious; without souls that care, what is left, not a whole lot.

Solomon recalled that little boy and his pals, who appeared around the corner, pulling their imaginary car, with a piece of string that someone discarded. First impression, how they fared after that, the three young friends, who knows, but they made an impression on Solomon and his heart process, amen.

Young Turk

Hair greased, slicked back, he is not attitude, he does not recognize authority, not of the human kind, his goal is heavenly, has seen his home village destroyed, the pain and trauma, the cheap words of world leaders, after every atrocity,  they have been saying the same thing for years, pass the book, let the next set of leaders take the chance, see how long will they last, meanwhile plan for retirement, and a comfy living, while observing the harm, from all their inaction. Did Jesus say the same, words are great, prayers too, but without love in actions to support, what were you anyway, an empty vessel, a lot of noise and nothing else, as for those long winded applauded speeches, just yellow paper now, faded as the dreams were, the hopes raised that never flew. The Young Turk does not intend to suffer that fate. He is patient, he intends no harm, and will do his thing, he does not want to loose the heavenly connections, that is what has been happening, these last fifty years. The Young Turk has ideas of his own, prays it straight, and when he does, the help always arrives, no fool him.

So many refugees on the move, so many trying to find a home, clean water, it used to be all over the place, why did we have to pour poison into the water; well, the child in rags playing in the rubble, forever hopeful. Solomon sighed, may the schemes of extremism and those who plan such things, implode of the extremists, amen. can’t we just accept we are different at times, amen.

Solomon sighed, he told the health professional a few details of Life in the Spirit, the struggle between the material and eternal life. Well, it’s not easy being a believer sometimes; it puts an onus on you.