Fill the Shoes Chaps….

Over the top the first man goes, only to be eaten by a lion, over the top, the trench, they all stand up, in the meantime, those in the background, giving the orders, change their position, hoping something will work. Next, the woman hears voices, she is suddenly a prophet, we will use her as an example, till her prophecy becomes a conflict, when she doesn’t co-operate with those in the background, they tie her to the funeral pyre and light her up, and so it goes, again and again, they lift them, support them, and when they grow tired of them, they give them the chop, and they wonder why they can’t get anyone to fill the shoes. Years later, fro mall views, the groups in conflict, morph into one, the only thing they have in common, money and power.

Solomon was reflecting, reality, not the rose tinted expressions of a few optimists. In certain parts of the world, there was devout worship of God Most High, and adhered to strictly. In the other part of the world, those who tainted those who held beliefs in the world above, what are you bothering for, they are all saying. Solomon was watching the play from the middle, extremism had many friends in all sorts of places, he prayed accordingly, that God Most High silence the extreme opinion, especially at a time, when there were those making concentrated efforts to increase wisdom and understanding of their view of God. Love is color blind, amen .

It is easy to reflect on why so few over the years, ever stood up, or stood up, only when hidden in a large group. Did the world want the Peace of Jesus or business as usual, he could see the critics to that one, amen.

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That Moment… — Erika Kind… a re blog, maybe I’m lazy, too tired, worn out, had too much, well, If you need a little pep in your step….

Quote

That moment, when you naturally take a deep breath with a smile on your face. That moment when you see the struggles you are in right now and maybe also the challenges ahead but without feeling under pressure. That moment when you find yourself above the life you lead. That moment when you realize that […]

via That Moment… — Erika Kind

Addiction

Can’t fill the gap inside, it’s impossible, can’t, I am going to throw up, she is on her feet and moving, not too bad he smiles, geeing up her Spirits. She is seriously wobbly, will collapse at the first obstacle, he holds her arm, he is leading her to the toilet. Spittle at the edge of the mouth, her hair once lush, has thinned out, he waits outside the door, making gestures to himself, this too will pass. Alcohol addiction, what a curse. He listens while she washes up, readies the energy, she will require his time for a few days, in order to get over the worst of it. The nerves will settle, it’s just the encouragement she needs at the start.

The bathroom door opens, there is a smile on her face, the same smile you would imagine on a small baby, after taking it’s first steps, i did it I did it, you sure did he sighed, how easy was that, a little effort, a smile on a face. She makes it back to the bedroom, her glass of water is half full, she will want a refill. A loud sigh, she is between the covers, food he asks, she shakes her head, I will get you a glass of water instead. He leaves the room, ventures to the kitchen, takes a deep breath, slogans come to mind, he makes an effort to ignore them, refills the glass, heads back up the stairs. She is sleeping, day one over he sighs, while leaving the glass on the bedside locker.

With a little help from you friends sighed Solomon, and it’s easy to overcome, an addiction.

Pure Rhythm

The stream of wisdom, a garden grows, reacts to sunshine, is automatic, it grows, sun, rain, moon, stars, the time of year, the cold, the frost, the fourseasons, the days go on for ever, add in the only additive that has a mind of it’s own, the image of man, and the great rhythm is altered. Imagine it, paradise in it’s early form, the animals, birds, everything as it should be, then the actions of the man and woman, it’s all yours says God, but I ask you not to eat from that tree, it has a special function. The enquiring child, the stubborn mind, out of sight, satiated, well it’s a dare almost, love is already toxic, it has to be shared, then the descent, till we get back to the basics, and try it again. It’s easy upset the rhythm.

In the world there were mind gamers; those who played with the minds, it was one time, a love game, then it becomes twisted, then it becomes corporation games, then the changes we would rather not think about. He imagines the garden, the addition of the chemical fertiliser, the death of the small insect, the distress of the bee, and how what once was beautiful, was slowly destroyed. Having encountered demonic minds, who play with minds, Solomon was sending up a prayer to his Heavenly Father, curb their intincts and plans, and let their schemes fall on top them. Enough words, that should do the trick, amen.

Prayers said in the Name of Jesus, the Holy One, are heard in the heavens above. Solomon had seen it so often, it was as if he was watching Jesus do it live, amen.

The Small Brunette ….

She wasn’t much to look at, but she had a punch, she was not much to remember, but she had the thoughts inside her, the thoughts that sent you on your way, she was a smart brunette. Solomon sighed, he recalls the happy face, the words of hope, the kindness to others, he met many in his time, but few made an impression on the inside. It was the story of the good wine and the regular stuff, you never forget the good, amen.

As you sit there, older perhaps, tired most days, wondering if you could do more, wishing you had done it different at times, that day, this day, everyday, you got the chance to brighten the day, a thoughtful remark to someone, a simple smile, the small brunette, her’s was a smile worth remembering, amen.

Damn Damn Damn

 

They meet in the desert, the tents are busy, the hangers on hover around, wondering what they are saying inside. The light of God Most High shines, inside the wise men of old meet in Spirit, (They carry Holy Spirit inside), they discuss the meaning of love, and what it means in the modern world, has it changed.

Jesus stands up, he has memories, but they are not hurtful, even if they left deep scars inside and out, he has an understanding of the Father’s wish, that everyone be saved. The Great eastern prophet listens, his head to the side, the church leaders look fearful, their past connects with them when in the divine presence, it unsettles them. Moses rushes into the tent in a sweat; he apologizes for his sudden entrance, Jesus nods, haven’t seen you in awhile. Dressed in formal desert robes, old habits die hard, he has had a revelation from on high, the proverbial reminder of Heaven’s will.

We were just discussing the meaning of Love says Jesus, Moses smiles, it’s why I was summoned here.

“it’s up to us to rewrite it if that is what it takes!” Suleyman says. Jesus raises his eyebrows, he recalls the day they deserted him, left him, how often did they try to move him on, what a journey.

The prophet from the east, is listening, everyone is listening in the tent, the wisdom rolls out, actions are being mined in their heads. They decide on a first base principle;

Never take advantage of the vulnerable says Suleyman. Jesus sighs, this is going to be a long day indeed.

Artists Artists Artists.. United?

He has something to say, you should listen to him, she has a new voice, listen, artists, the small child has words he wants to say, he’s a child no one listens, why. Artists, the great global consciousness, well that was the way it was supposed to be, the collective thoughts contained in their works, be it sculpting, writing poetry, long stories, canvas, all filled with need, their heads and the hearts, pouring into the world their thoughts; man, I wanted to hear those words, they mean something, artists, and what happens, or more important, what is it that this all means. Consciousness, awareness, the need to show, the necessity to open hearts to new pathways.

What in affect happens; down through the centuries, anyone who harboured thoughts that conflicted with the dogma of the ruling class of the day, usually thwarted, unless they had the patronage of the same people, and when some made a break through, difficulty is what they found, resentment caused, labels applied, unwell, not one of us and so on, unless the general populace loved them and defended them.

Solomon was reflecting, there were so many issues, so many you’d be lost in the haze. He read about the difficulties the traditional sources of comfort were having; loss of personnel, message not being absorbed, loss of connection, and so on. In relation to divine enthusiasm, if you based your “art” or “vocation in life”, on the connection overhead (Solomon encountered Holy Spirit, the real one, was saved a few times), a power that hit the peaks at the time of Jesus, you would assume you’d hang onto the connection, not by cheating, but by incorporating the principles in your life. If talent dries up, maybe it’s time for a career change, rather than go fishing for others talents, those less organised as they say; otherwise their divine connection blurs then dies.

Solomon was comparing the times of Jesus Christ, the threats that he had to overcome, the weakness of the believers in the face of miracles, and the regular threat, same today as then, of the already organised machine that controls so many lives. At a time when there has been so many signs, and they are on the way, everyday in fact, the danger of speaking up, saying it as it needs to be said, simply, be brave.

Artists, avenues for thoughts to disperse; there has never been a more needy time for them. Your job won’t matter if the toxic dump leaks into your water supply; and the environment for your children won’t change into positive territory, until you make the effort to improve things; leaving it to your leadership, is the same as waiting for Godot.