I went in his house and sat down. I was a stranger. And he took it upon himself To make me feel comfortable. He did. Just a feel good moment.
“The Little Boy and the Old Man Said the little boy, “Sometimes I drop my spoon.” Said the old man, “I do that too.” The little boy whispered, “I wet my pants.” I do that too,” laughed the little old man. Said the little boy, “I often cry.” The old man nodded, “So do I.” […]
They are not soldiers you train and put into action archbishop. The young curate was risking his career, trying to explain the difficulty, the shortage of new entrants, and why it had happened. Old men don’t want to listen, unless it’s the doctor they are talking with.
In the fifties, there were processions of young men, that ran the length of a football field, men who had offered to serve the higher calling, “called” by the Spirit, the Spirit the religious orders cared for and minded as if life itself depended on it. It was years ago, the parade was now a trickle, a drip drip of water compared to the full flow; same way the Spirit had been depleted due to a whole set of factors too long to mention. The basic rule according to Solomon; you nurture the Spirit and the results will deliver. Sadly, that Spirit was squeezed out of existence almost; too many interfering influences, and too little forgiveness, just as happened to so many things, as the new takes over from the old. Would they ever learn sighed Solomon?.
One day, was that too much to expect, one day they would get it right. The Spirit is the Holy Messenger, the one who reminds of the life to come, brings blessings, it was spoken of many times in the ancient scripture, it was told in the ancient tales, how many of us had invited angels into our homes, and the blessings they would bring with them. Today, fear rules he sighed, and it’s not unreasonable either, the threat of violence on those who suffered it, is devastating. Solomon wrote the story so often, a thousand times, get the Spirit part right, the rest is made easy. Spirit connects us, amen.
Poor, lacking an education, passed over, your home address off putting, what a start, there has to be something better, your weighing up the chances of success, while others are weighing up your chances of failure. It will reach a point when you fall over, and where will you be then, where will your God be then. The fear seeps in, the constant worry. temptation rises, you take unnecessary chances, you have less and less empathy for others, till finally you use any opportunity, regardless, where is your God when you need Him, the taunt of the demon.
It was said all those years ago; you will be mocked, made a fool of, ridiculed, spoken badly of, after a kind or thoughtful act, your troubles will mount, you will become despairing, what then, where is your God.
A child looks in the window, knows he will never afford to buy what is for sale, the only way of getting one, is stealing them. Eventually, gets caught, is thrown into a detention center, where there are worse, who will teach him even worse things, and invite him into their world as soon as he is free again. It is a carousel, the new arrivals, the few who are deemed ready, the life after, when they join the Gang, all over a simple pair of shoes in a window. He is transferred for £100 million, cheap says the oldest of the boys, cheap at a 100, he could have gone for 140 instead.
Noah, Abraham, Moses, Jeremiah, Isaiah, Esther, and many others braved temptation, and we still recall them today, and many others. They all beat the devil, amen.
Jesus promoted forgiveness for reasons of supreme wisdom; think about it, how forgiveness leaves you light as a feather, no more grief to hang on to, that is how you do it, amen.
Originally posted Jan 26, 2013 I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit together at the table of brotherhood. -Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. On our path towards heart’s dream, journey’s value, at […]
She lies on the bed, the tired body and the heavy head, sore from a bruising. You will meet worse than me he said, years before, when he spoke to a so called friend of the thug who helped end her life. Really sighed Solomon, could anyone be worse than what he was looking at, someone who preyed on the vulnerable, dosed them with drugs, to keep them under his control. Not likely sighed Solomon to himself.
After many promises and interventions, and the missing friends: they too had a life to get on with, she finally is overcome, a victim; the blame put on the descent into alcoholism. She knocked on many doors, sought help from many corners, all she attracted were the wolves who preyed on them, those without back up or good friends. One day he sighed.
Solomon was recalling a friend, who had passed on this day years before, a true tragedy.