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.

Breakfast Feast

I’m hungry, she is tired of hearing those words, she is a mile from the white house, roaming the streets of the most powerful city in the world, she is not alone. Downtown, they pour over dishes their lobbyists pay for, while the shelters turn people away. They have eyes but can’t see, is there a message in that, they wont attend a meeting either unless they get paid expenses. I’m hungry he says again, she feels the change in her pocket, soon she says.

Solomon sighed, a deep heart felt sigh, the love connects the light shines, the words of Jesus are made real; allow God to reside inside you and transform your life, it’s that simple.

She gets a seat in a side cafe, it’s Irish owned, the manager is an Irish Emigrant woman, she serves the biggest breakfasts in town. From the counter she watches the eyes of the small one, how he watches the tray laden with food for another table pass close by. His eyes widen, a little hopeful smile appears, i’ll be having that soon. Her heart breaks each time she see’s that expression on a small face, hoping. As for the loud mouth campaigners, they make the noise and then hide behind their private gates; do they say such words of thoughtfulness just to antagonize us all. Mary is practical; hunger can’t wait. if only one of them.. if only one had the courage of their words, some day, some day she hopes.

Finding Agreement

A bunch of muscle flab flesh and bones gather in a large room, seeking agreement, a matter of words, once they are slung in the right order, peace is not far away. Jesus, meets some low life’s, low according to the Pharisee’s, he cures them, raises the eyebrows of the high and mighty, there is disagreement, well there would be no disagreement if he agreed with the practices of old.

The flab opens the mouth, another flab speaks up, another flab frowns, another flab checks the phone, another flab complains. They all claim to be believers, they will attend services, they will get on their knee’s, they will instruct their children, they want them to believe. So why do so many find it hard getting agreement, why the discord.

The parable of forgiveness, how often it was repeated, how many times, how many blows must you sustain, how why, why forgive anyway.

One of the flab has issues; lost a father in a conflict, had a relation who died in the war, had the hurt of others passed on to him, he was a child. In the meeting flab is touchy when harmony is mentioned and agreement; all the past hurts rush to his mind, the old memories, the hurt; if only he could have forgiven, or if the hurt had not been passed on, if only….

Demons make hay while the human soul hangs onto hurt, amen.

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.

Men and Women

You and me, we get to know each other, we wriggle with our fingers, there is an energy, you can read each others thoughts, how are our emotions in tandem, then we part, the memory remains, wish I could have more of that, she sighs, when I am with you I think of nothing else.

 

Solomon listened to the prophet woman, she had staying power, was on a one person mission, her devotion clear, aimed at pleasing God. Solomon listens, she rattles on, he nods, some days we have to clean, other days we wash, we smarten ourselves up, fine, there are a lot of changes in a single minute, the memory of 9/11 a very real event, along with the multitude of assaults on civilians, who had their entire towns bombed from a safe height, we all have ideas of righteousness, not all of them work out.

Men and women said Solomon, he threw out the point, we are in this together, all of us, none of us made it without the other, so why all these differences then. He wanted to invite her over for a chat; there were a few holes in her thought process and Solomon wanted to help her fill them in; If you are going to teach Jesus, God, and the Holy prophets, you need to have a base built on compassion. an understanding of unconditional love, and the humility of a farmer depending on the weather, please.

My Eyes

Damn advertising Guru, could sell a g-string to your ninety year old aunt, and tell her it was comfortable, get you to forget yourself for a while, the blurb, you look great in that, even if you could not see, darn advertising guru, as for those psycho dudes, the head experts, is there a ship I could borrow, the mid Atlantic would be a good place to bring them for a Holiday, moor them off shore with their off shore accounts, a few strong anchors, away from everyone where they can’t do anymore harm. Blast sighed Solomon, he listened to the news, the crocodile tears, the affect of pornography on happiness, relationships, and children of course, the darn advertising Guru, what medication was he on, vitamin “M” of course like so many. Too darn busy getting their thrills to wonder about the affect it was having on others. Solomon encountered the “Spirit” the early apostles enjoyed, and when it is real, you don’t have to excuse your thoughts. So many eyes squinting over their small screens, wondering, is this love what we are seeing, cause they seen to be doing nothing else.

My eyes cried God, what are they doing to the children of the world. Solomon recalled the words of Jesus, God is inside you, the Spirit, it’s not over there, it’s inside you. Why pollute the eyes of God you wonder, unless you intended in murdering the Spirit within. Holidays are occasions, not every day experiences. One of those moments, he saw the expression on the faces, he prayed, there was a sense of disappointment. He listened to the words, the bread and the fish, the division of food, the Spread of the Spirit, well being, it was a lesson, simple as that, you share and it gets better for everyone, Amen.