Unstable Leaders….

Where’s common sense gone, bickering and back biting, police on the streets, protesters, the army more important than health care, everyone doubting, new ideas running out, chaos, as the two giants of politics meet in the amphitheater, hoping to convince the voter, who is bombarded with twenty four seven news, sights of violence and fear on TV, confused thinking, wealth deemed the winning cause, you’ll do better with us, can this be a picture of the United States today, the so called leader of the free world, seriously.

Too much time spent of making money and not enough on creating community usually ends in chaos for all, it’s the story of the family, where the father figure spends all his time working while ignoring the emotional needs of the family, it all fall apart’s, and it leads to recrimination and blame thereafter, as to why it happened.

A man rushes in the door, he has a lot to hide, he does his best to distract his partner, rushes her around, haven’t time to speak, we’ll talk about this later, Hal she says, not now, there is a big meeting in the office later, there is talk of a takeover, it’s real big, she sighs to herself, we’ll talk about it later. After so many great schemes that never are, there is nothing to talk about later.

Denial, a condition of the human mind, tomorrow, eventually the tomorrows are all spent cleaning up the yesterdays that were ignored in the hope of tomorrow, it’s all about today, Jesus tells us.

The virus was more than a massive threat to humanity, it was an opportunity to stall the direction the world was heading in, time to think. Those who were planning on the propaganda war for the coming election would be wise to read about the ancient prophets, Esdras in particular, amen.

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Sea Rescue

Hold on, don’t loose your faith, help will come. How those who struggle to survive hold it together, the stress each day, the hours of labor that bear so little fruit. From afar we read these stories, some of us wonder, some of us pray, some do something extra, the needs of others push us to extra lengths that we would not ever dare to tread. Struggles, the mother sighs, she is brow beaten, her little daughter looks on, knows her mother struggles, vows to do all she can do assist as she gets older, doing housework is all she can muster now, it’s her Mother after all. She watches while those without care pass by all day, the dress, the confident eyes, how they look down on her, it’s all stored inside. We need inspiration to hold on.

The news that two young women survived a trauma that was dangerous to say the least was uplifting for many who heard the news, and it was of course fishermen who came to the rescue at the death. Solomon sighed, there are those who are under the stress of the virus, and the warnings, while those who have had the means, just read about it. Nothing knew here, the gap between the least and the most is a ravine few will ever fill in, and those with that we call real power, will read reports from experts, and act on them, those who have a bit of a conscience will, hopefully more will recognize the signs. In this time of great trauma, there is the Spirit of God, it’s pouring out across the world, hang on, put your faith in the fisherman.

Solomon encountered the Spirit that brings great gifts, heaven sent, but as with all gifts, it requires a little sharing. when you have real proof of divine intervention, there is no human force that can ever overcome it, read the pro

phets, amen.

August

The year 2020, the world needs rest, the populations on the move, internally if not physically, where to turn, can I, the questions, the world turned upside down, the news dramatic, the reactions chaotic, the mind full of the dread, what is happening, is this all in my head, turmoil. A mini version of a strange new world, it was going in one direction, then all of a sudden, change, how has it happened, what are we going to do now. Young artists, new ideas, the ideals they shared, the chance to put it in words, the cynics of the past, this will never change, those getting their wish, could we have done it any better.

Solomon wondered, the world stops, the ease of movement halts, a scene from a war movie, the unassailable march of the JUGGERNAUT, the sighs in the hearts of the oppressed, what does it mean, is there a message in all of this. Solomon read the story of old, how they harped on, about the unseen power, and the threat that existed, when we took it to be ourselves, our existence. The child sighs, the mother holds the hand tighter, she is nervous, they can’t escape to the country, it’s closing down. The knock on the door, the rattle of guns, the panic inside, everyone tries to hide and run, is this the end, the sighs, the nods, open up, the scream, the door comes in, boots on the stairs, it sounds like a Spielberg movie, only it’s real.

Solomon was applying the thought of the dramatic to the current chaos. In olden times, old stories, we get reminders, the ways of the oppressors, and what it usually means, are these those times, and what about the end, the light, there is always light. The Hope arrives, every civilization has the same story, the voice, the giant, the helper, who teaches the new generation, how to sustain life, the qualities needed, compassion, being aware, doing what is life giving, without trying to take over the world. In the papers he read the story of the Nuclear Space, the effort to control the world where the satellites roamed, the great new war field of the future, the destruction of our means of global communication, does this sound like today, are we being warned, the new direction, an easy way to teach us perhaps, this way of life can’t sustain itself, we better try another, just an idea…Solomon smiled, He always sends the Helper, hang on.

After The Virus

New friendships made, stubborn chat between arch enemies, no escaping the facts, the virus was more than biological change, the social network was changing, how we had the chance to look at ourselves anew, perhaps ask questions for the first time ever, questioning what went on unnoticed, Mary sits at her table, doing the math of the era. In the writer’s manual they said that all the great writers made themselves known, in times of crisis, study the literature, what came out of depression, the artists who didn’t suffer a personal agony of some type, out of difficulty we often find ourselves again? All this change has to be incorporated into her book, all relationships appear to alter as, she pauses, he is moving around again upstairs, she no longer sneers, hoping to hear him fall.

Relationships change, she is getting selfish, it’s about time, and I’m not getting younger she reminds herself, even if she looks and feels ten years younger since the virus precautions came into existence, everyone looks better, hard to believe it, to be young is a matter of less stress, she recalls passing the new head shop, she used to have names for the place, now she wonders if she will try the new form of marijuana once this thing is over; Hollywood names seem to approve it, and she really trusts some of the names.

What do I miss without being too personal she thinks? She dallies with her talisman, a real led pencil, she can’t imagine a writer’s desk without one, a thin red pencil with a rubber on one end, correcting the script at least. Is it the lack of shopping, is it the lack of fear of having visitors, the need to be more focussed on self cleaning rather than the furnishings, she smiles, bathing in the full bath is way beyond the shower and the new go thing, no fun in that sort of scrub when in the shower, baths for the future , no other way, her skin is softer too, and the odours are all sweet, as if a small change in the washing habit is the same as the slow un buckling of a fragrant rose, cleaner the air, clearer the fragrance, same could be said about the other, she looks forlornly at the ceiling, Excited by dirt, she has many ways of saying it, but the virus is bringing out the imagination. Was it the worry, she doesn’t want to think that, she forgave him during her walk, not that she’d allow him near her, the six foot rule, that she can handle, does it apply to indoors, it should she says, talking to the pencil in her hand, she, it has to be a female pen, it’s not chewed up, nice and thin, and it works for real when it has to, it must be a female pencil.

Flying Spirit

Te Amo, she turns her head, she hasn’t heard that in awhile, she’s a migrant worker, and an illegal, she is waitressing,  the cook is flirting with her again, she smiles. Meanwhile there are three tables that need to be cleared and three other girls like her, vulnerable, waiting to take her job, no slip ups. She passes a table, two men in suits, are they immigration, she pretends not to look, we ordered two coffee’s one says. She nods, rushes to the table, her eye on the two men, are they there to spy on her. Being an illegal is hard work, she has moved every six months, trying to keep ahead of the posse. She possess’s a secret, one she can’t explain, not in the normal meaning of the word; she carries the Holy Spirit inside her. Remain calm, she repeats this to herself daily, evening, before sleep, calm, you live inside me she explains. It’s as if she carries a special child inside her.

Our coffee, she passes the table, makes a nod, coming she says. It’s lunchtime, the busy period, but she doesn’t mind, there are other young girls like her, who are not that lucky. One of them dances the tables, and smiles at leering men all day, it’s a job, provides shelter, things can get worse.

She fills the cups, makes for the two men, sorry she says, setting  down the two cups. His jacket slides to the side, as if he is reaching for something, she spots the handle of a gun, law enforcement he says, sorry if I upset you, she smiles nervously. He nods. He wears a brown belt, he fingers the clasp, a sign, they are on my side, she sighs…..

A Child is Born to the world….

I could be watching TV. Well TV is what he heard these last six weeks. A break from the rattle tattle of the office printer he was used to night and day. too warm to move, cosy and wrapped, fed continuously, room was getting tighter, Pushy was getting anxious. Due to make his first official appearance onto the world stage, he’d been holding off this last week, on account of the weather forecast. Cold and icy for the next three weeks announced the weather forecaster a week earlier, just as pushy was ready to make his big entrance. Pushy decided to remain a tummy baby, yet to be born, but like all great actors, waited for the right moment to enter the fray. She’s eating burgers again, washed down with orange juice, pushy liked orange juice, burped inside her tummy, forcing him to shake a leg.

“I can feel him moving” smiled Mary. Other friends laughed loudly. Pushy wiggled around trying to get his ear into position. What are they saying, I’m not even born yet and they are making plans for me. Did they ever hear about free will.

Like sliding about, be a baby inside a tummy. Pushy was rolling around in his mother’s tummy. She was on her feet again. She’s eating again, what this time wondered pushy. Smelled okay, he wondered if it was a Chinese, hopefully not. Beef, fresh Irish beef, yummy smiled pushy who was being fed through his mother. The rich smell of Tipperary beef, probably the best beef on the planet. Well, when you have the freshest water in Europe to cook with, to grow with, the outcome is usually wholesome, and good for pushy who could only think of himself.

Do they all speak with that accent wondered pushy, the theme tune to a familiar soap opera waking him up after a short nap. They didn’t speak like mammy figured pushy trying to work out the plot line, moving himself around, trying to get his best ear to the action. The doorbell rang. Shit sighed pushy, he’d never know if they had the affair. New shit tomorrow.

“any news yet” asked Jennifer, a friend of mammy’s.

“if it doesn’t move soon I don’t know what I’ll do” replied mammy, back on the couch.

This is really bugging me, they are pushing me too far. I’ll surprise them.

More food, spicy shit, this is unbelievable fumed pushy trying to move around his tummy room. Makes you fart, burst even. Dirty tricks department, they are trying to move me. Wait till I get out of here, just you wait. She stopped eating, god that was close. The door closed. It was time for bed. The bump the bump, four more bumps and we’d be on the bed. He liked the way mammy massaged him while they were in bed lying down. He could swim up and down across and for as long as he wanted, unimpeded too. she’s getting fast sighed pushy, not realising that is was he who was growing fastest. I used to be able to stretch, not so much now.

Soft music put him in a trance. She played him frank Sinatra in bed. Good taste, a real smoocher, our frank Nuts, I don’t believe it, not even normal nuts, spicy nuts. She’s trying to do my head in sighed pushy kicking out in disgust. Mary smiled, patted her tummy. Who loves you she said. Pushy listened with rage, how could she eat spicy so late at night. Down there, he often wondered what was down there, never went down there, felt safer up here. He could rest up here, down there and he’d nothing to hold onto. His foot slipped all of a sudden, got caught on a ledge. Pushy held on for dear life. Twisted around, head first, if I go down there I’ll never come back, I’ll lose my comfort zone. Where’s the water gone. Mammy was on her feet. I hear her on the fone. I’m stuck, I’m stuck. Jennifer is at the door. Mammy mammy, it’s an earthquake shouts pushy, does anyone ever listen. What am I supposed to do. Stuck in the black hole, I’m dead I’m dead, ah, ah, I see light, light, god I’m alive, I’m alive, ah mammy, mammy screams pushy, tears in his eyes, tears in her eyes as well.

Lights everywhere, the place smells horrible, voices I never heard all around me, I’m not putting up with this. Pushy cleared his throat and screamed for all his worth. A minute later he was lying with mammy. She’s my mother smiled pushy…. 

Prayer for the World

Hope love transparency justice fairness and revelation of truths, the message of lord Jesus Christ, righter of wrongs, revealer of truth, safeguard us from all that is evil in this world and destroy and lay waste the evil one and his supporters the world over, strong words strong winds but evil can never be allowed a foothold in the hearts and minds of the human soul. I from experience and my own errors understand the methods of this evil force, that has spread similar to a cancer across all worlds, so in my prayer, throw your protective shield Dear Father around those who struggle to promote love and compassion throughout the world.

 

Children the world over have been the target of this evil menace, and must be halted and destroyed at once. My heart has raged against this force most of my years, and to this day I am still in the middle of this battle, a battle we are winning with your merciful help. We are starved of resources sometimes, as this evil force targets those who wish and do your good deeds. In a world of such chaos it is hard sometimes to stand against this bad energy, but we are winning. The evil one is on the run, help us recognize it, stop it, and to destroy it, I offer this prayer in the name of the sacred one, lord Jesus Christ, as the prophets of old and now say, words and requests that come in his name from the loving heart, are heard in heaven above, in your mercy lord hear our prayer, amen.

Solomon read a prayer he put together with the Help of Great Spirit. Years later, it felt as if it had been written for today. Out of the closet into the frying pan, let it flow, amen.

Professional Ethics…

Behind every fraud, there is always a professional nearby, what do they teach them in school. Solomon observed a class of school students outside a firm of professional people. It reminded him of Jesus and the day Jesus sent the demon spirits into a herb of pigs, who in a mad rush afterwards, ran to the cliff and threw themselves over, was there

Patrice Mulumba

A lesson in it. Is this the fate awaiting those, with higher roles in society, who deny the existence of God, by means of their activities. It certainly gives the parable added meaning.

Walking the street, he stops outside a shop, there is a child screaming, not shouting, but roaring, for no apparent reason. The overall complexion of the company, does not encourage compassion, there is something out of place. Solomon sighed, said a silent prayer, the screaming child stops, goes calm. It reminded him of a night, when Solomon was very young, it was a nightmare of sorts ,a demon faced soul was trying to overcome him, Solomon recalled holding firm, and the demon vanished from the dream, interesting he thought.

Across the world, professional men and women made it possible for the worst of harm to occur on a gigantic scale. In truth, there are some who act like mobs of demons. In the current times, the signs were appearing, the Sun was bursting from the sky, sudden changes in the weather. The experts called it the result of Global warming, what else. Solomon called them, acts of God.

Days of Gratitude

How many of us have life changing experiences, Solomon listens, the preacher speaks, he retells the story of the ten lepers, healed, and how one in ten returned to give thanks, to God, so Jesus tells. Solomon listened, gratitude meant a lot to him, the day more poignant than most, his own recall a little blurred, his memory of events poor, but the results, never doubted. It was the anniversary of the perfect intervention in his own life.

 

To encounter the perfect intervention, where all that is seems lost, and all from then on is new, is rare indeed. The tingle in the feet, your still connected, the feet will move again, the lower body functions, how you got there, you have a faint recall, this must be the feeling you get, when you are born, how did I get there, and since so many do it the same way, you think nothing of it, it just happens.

So much we regard as a right, so the mob tells us, this is what your entitled to, and if you don’t get it, you ought to sue some one, there are lawyers on every corner, complain. So, there is the gardener, the flowers are sad, they have lost their luster, they don’t grow so strong, who does he complain to, probably himself, I didn’t use the right fertilizer. Then recall the mindset of the One who set the style of the flowers, the colors, their size, the smell; he does not get the same scent, the senses are not moved, the garden is plainly not that healthy, who does HE complain to.

Gratitude, how we respect the gifts we are given, and how we pass it on, it’s that simple, amen.

 

Spirit Calls…

The voices are calling, the days of old, how those of God called out, how they were delivered, because the Spirit was strong in them, and they respected the word and promise of God. How Goliath laughed at David, a mere weakling, who does he think he is, imagine the snide faces, watching this man, how dare he, even the act of walking onto the battlefield, how they mocked him fool they said to themselves, but the Great God of Heaven had other plans. Same as the widow who gave two bits all those years ago, more than all the rich men, what she did is recalled to this day, the Spirit never forgets.

Solomon sighed, he recalled those whose love he had been given, and how that love had sustained him, he never forgot either. There are those who follow with pride what rich men have to say, it gives the inside knowledge, so they think. Little do they know they are worshiping demons most of the time, money and pride, amen. God seeks kindness tenderness and love, the very currency most of the rich always seem to lack, amen.