The Source

The wrinkles, deep and old, taken awhile to acquire them, the signs of character, why try to get rid of them, nothing wrong in showing who you are. Solomon was talking with a friend, the timing was good, the sun was out, and the two of them were re calling, older times. To the outside world it didn’t seem much, there was nothing you could take away, you had to experience it, they were talking about the source, where it all came from.

It’s like a river, they just don’t appear out of nowhere, Solomon nodded, he is a student, listening. The finished product was what most were interested in his friend said, while the journey was what made it what it was.

Solomon imagined a giant river, it could be the Ganges, the amazon. When you think of them, you see a mass of water, flowing strong, deep and constant. How they start, it was the same as an oak tree, a single acorn grows, as for the big river, it begins with the trickle of a stream, after many threads join together, it becomes a big river. Jesus said much the same, all of us are Spirits, we need to create the space inside by simply following the Father’s teaching, no big deal.

In the space of an hour, Solomon and his pal solved a few mysteries, not by trying to be smart, but by listening in a non judge mental way. Could anyone learn this his friend said, Solomon nodded, it’s like the big river, you have to understand how it got so big; it was nothing to notice at the start, just follow the treads.

The weaver sits at the loom, strings of wool, different colors, it requires patience, his fingers are practiced, his foot works the pedal rhythm that turns the loom, he feeds in the different treads, mixes the colors, after awhile a pattern emerges, after that a colorful garment. Life is just like that, lots of strings connected, a few failures to begin with, a practice time, experiences, and finally, a life lived. Imagine it, that big river was no more that a drip when it began, and look what it is now, amen.

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Mess Up for Heaven’s Sake

She is an addicted cleaner, she spots dirt, she blows a fuse, her temperature rises, it’s as if she has spotted a demon, out comes the chemical rescue, a squirt here and there, got ya she smiles, while killing anything organic nearby, will you leave me in peace he says, she has the brush under his feet, he is trying to watch TV. She doesn’t listen, this has been the way for years. Solomon sighed, those were the days, a memory that makes him laugh, it wasn’t anything to be shy about.

Being an educator, you can’t make a cake without creating a mess, same way you can’t teach a child without getting upset, difference is, what comes out of the oven. The boy is small, a learner, just imitates and wants to get on with life, pulls a chair to the sink, playing with water, everyone small loves it, the splash and the mess. Roll up your sleeves, the boy turns his head, will you shut up he says, there is a smile on his face,  i said roll up your sleeves, I don’t do laundry.

The mess continues, there is water on the floor, there is water everywhere, are you finished yet, the child is washing the dishes, placing them on the side, Solomon is watching carefully, doesn’t want the kid to slip, eventually, eventually, the wash up is done, it’s time to negotiate. The dinner is always a task, how do you get them to eat healthy, do you remember the wash up he says, the child nods, doesn’t notice the spoon in the air, open up, the boy opens his mouth, another mouthful gone.

Mess up for heaven’s sake, there is bargaining power in it, it’s not just mess, it’s real learning. The mothers look at Solomon, what do you know about feeding children, he sighs, there is a cake on the table, he reaches for it, not before you have eaten your dinner they say, i suppose.

Spirit to Spirit

The interests within, words connect, like friends, burdens are put down, ease of mind, even if the conversation is tense, when the Spirit’s can relax, be true to each other, wisdom is engaged, both are listening. In a narrow minded world, with many narrow minded minds, same way the coronary artery constricts, not enough good exercise, bet you never heard your heart surgeon speak like that before, but it’s a good analogy, whatever, the Spirit relaxes, anxieties are put aside, and when the meeting is over, there is a feeling of being relaxed, how easy it sounds.

The other end of the spectrum, anxiety, wanting, need, fear, leaving you a nervous wreck, planning without knowing it, seeking ways to escape, be it the weekend or what, big difference in the two paragraphs, one leaves you relaxed, the other, stressed.

Solomon prayed to His Father in Heaven, there were extremists hoping to cause anxiety fear and stress, hoping to take advantage of others, remind them Prayed Solomon, that they will have to account for it, he sighs. The wonder of divine intervention, priceless.Featured Image -- 1110230523

Blocked

no new ideas, stuck, nothing fresh going on, got a habit that I hate, got a cat that shits a lot, man does that need cleaning up, blocked, I hope you don’t upset the cat. He pressed the button, the machine, it produced a rhythm, a beat, he put a few lyrics over it, adjusted the volume, played them low played them high, a bit like a lotto player, fancy word for a gamble, how he frame words, sounds better, compulsive deniers, when we don’t like the news, we turn it off, the head can only hold so much. Imagine it, the stuff the head has to hoard, the so called important stuff, the stuff going back years. Unless it’s the heart, why would it be important?

Don’t Laugh At Donald!!

The Golden hair do is having a bad hair do day, in TV rooms in exclusive places, there

are those laughing loudly, feeling that they have been vindicated, there is a sense of poetic justice about, and american liberals are feeling hopeful again. World leaders are getting their short term thrill. This is the end they feel, of ” The Donald “.

I am a believer in the great mystery of the Lord, and how every opportunity is used, to teach, pass on wisdom, enlighten.

Don’t laugh at Donald, while he has united many in the opinion others have of him, why not think of this!…

While all the talk is going on, and the anger mounts, the recriminations, the sexy stories, and the delirium of some, apart from the efforts to shame people, there is a famine going on in Africa, children, men, women, can’t find a piece of food, while the tabloids write like addicts on sexual activities that took place thirty years ago, who is fooling who.

Solomon encountered the cloud, the Heavenly powers were watching the games too.

Today

 

Memories can be great friends, they can linger in your heart, when your having a tough day, you just go into the zone, recall the smile, the laughter, the funny things that made you laugh, and the tenderness it awoke in you, what you learned, the quirky stuff, that takes you out of the moment, the movie you watched that you still remember, good stuff, it’s amazing how in all that you do, the good stuff rises to the top, I guess, that’s why the memory can recall it, as if it was yesterday, the joy you encountered, while you shared the moment.

Good memories, remind you of the words of Jesus, they just never leave you. Amen.  They remind you of the power of love, and what is real and what isn’t. Those that clung to you when they had something to gain, you never see them when your in need. The difference between the good and mediocre, fairly obvious.

Opened Eyes

They didn’t see it coming, straight into the storm, the human storm, not the weather forecast, satellites, they should invent one for the human race that isn’t powered by money, feck it, when it’s a snow storm of cash, it blinds everyone, well, those things you could never do, suddenly your world brightens up, I can really be like that, how the eyes open up. Parents, their nightmares begin, it was fun in the beginning, now they realize that any sod can befriend their child, and there is nothing they seem to be able to do about it, apart from read of the despair elsewhere, those distracting headlines, as if they can recall them twenty four hours later, a distraction, while the nightmare returns, their child addicted to the machine, and if it isn’t that, well, the dealer can provide the rest.

Solomon sighed, it was the story of the wise bird, looking for love, a mate, someone to play around with. When in the zone, bird can do the dance, flash the feathers, do all sorts of things, to impress the mate, bingo, we got a connection. Then the nest building commences, the future is being created, and they need to supply the foundations, not any old tree, somewhere safe, they don’t want to be blown away. Then bit by bit, they gather, the new life arrives, the work continues. If the bird knows all this, and they all do, how come the human type never seems to get it right, always distracted, eyes wide shut as stanley would put it.

The old words come to mind, He sent the prophets, they partied while Noah built the ark, amen.