The Young Master

He went to reach for his toothbrush, felt a brush against his leg, two sleepy eyes look up at him, Solomon smiled, inside he thought to himself, I hoped you would stay in bed, even an hour would have been great, that plan is gone, he continues to wash his teeth instead. Little hand reaches for his, Solomon smears it with paste, watches while the child imitates his moves, his small eyes watching how he moved the brush across his mouth, half laughing, but seriously laughing, glad to have a role model, one he

could argue with, one he could ask, one he was not afraid of. Stern words were never spoken, just a cast of the eyes and a frown did the trick every time. The routine is finished, the time for the breakfast, Solomon does the big friend thing, sits down and eats with the small boy. Slurp after slurp, the watchfulness of the young master, imitating the teacher, a wise young child.

How Children imitate it all; and how those charged with responsibilities tried to blame the individual for their failures. Later; He hears the cot move, the time is early morning, Solomon sighed; so this is what it’s like to be a mother, your children take your attention and time. The stuff Solomon learned from the young master, amen.


Sex Scandals

Seems we can’t get enough of it, papers full of it, Hollywood planing to make pictures of it, (a biography!), money has no friends just plenty of enemies. The Flight to the Asian paradise is nearing completion, they look at their watches, the boys smile, bird time. A case of the bird flew again. At least this time they bought plenty of the stuff that keeps you clean. Sex scandals, young, online, the couch, the daily drive to tempt you. Solomon didn’t think God Most High had the ear of the so called pious. No, the ear of the honest, at least you know what to expect, the truth.

How many times, how many different positions, what was on their minds. The stuff we tune our ear to, and the stuff we conveniently forget. Solomon sighed, now that GMH, God Most High was alert and the Spirit grew in strength

, he imagined help arriving from all sorts of places, amen.

The Gallery Girl

Nerves, a shake of the hand, the opening of the exhibition, will there be anyone around. She read the blurb, how they extol the works of those long gone, who didn’t make a penny from it, yet they praise them all around, for the cost of buying the art today. The Gallery girl has no such illusions; she has heard all the talk, knows a certain truth, nobody does it for cash, they do it to show off the talent, a form of Gift, amen.

In war truth suffers first, the latest blockbuster about the Vietnam war, another example. Then it’s the artists, did the Dixie Chicks…

Dixie chicks really complain about the war in the Middle east, a million dead and injured many years later, on account of the rush to the front, like all artists, those with minds of their own, they offer a truth of their own.

How will God judge the exhibition, she is a believing gal; her talent is obvious, a gift. Will he wonder from exhibit to exhibit, or just look at the price tag and decide. Imagine it, God and the price we put on everything, in order to justify doing something about it; Gallery Girl Hurry up, there is an opening there for you too.



Spirit filled, absorbing like sponges, a raised voice or a scream, imitating, watching, eating, excited, noisy, fairly normal bring a child; add in the extras, the gadgets, the thumbed games, the overtly sexualized world, the bias of parents, they trust them, and soon the child becomes, dispirited, like little prisoners trying to escape their world.


Rose tinted glass’s were fine to wear in the dark; in the clear light of day, the rosey hue might tint it, help the eyesight if that is the case, but when a world was rearing children in the depths of depression, it asked questions. Solomon encountered the Great Spirit, in real time, not imaginary, 100% real time proof of the existence so many wondered about. Put it this way, he wasn’t going to make a fool of himself by pretending.


The Connector

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.


The Vocation

He is lying across the bed, in his PJ’s, a side table, on it a new Glock, the equalizer as he calls it, since he took up his vocation,  a hit man for the mafia. He is pondering, it’s a few hours before the assignment; it shouldn’t a difficult, the target has no protection; he is just another noisy environmentalist, a planning artist, he objected to a new development that threatened the water supply in his town, a bit like JFK when he was slow to embrace war, he was in the way. Room service he sighs as he swings off the bed, and pats his way to the en suite. Professional, he always likes to look good, it also helps. Well dressed types rarely arouse suspicion till it’s too late. Over the years he has liquidated a few, his vocation as he calls it, the only spirit he needs, the cash fountain that gushes the same way the blood gushes from his victim, that’s his thrill, money.

The world of God, the times of Jesus all those years ago, spell a different thrill, and a bounty at the end, that is simply beyond belief, a world based on love empathy and sharing, where there is plenty, it requires Spirit of the loving kind, intangible, you can never own it, you have to pass it on, your responsible for it, a minder.

Solomon looked at the empty church; it was over a hundred years old. He wondered how many knees had knelt at the pews, the knees, the prayers said. Years before he saw the pictures, full houses everywhere, fifty years later, they are close to despair, half empty even on the busy days, vocation. What happened in the intervening period, to cause such a flow in the other direction; they forgot about the Spirit he supposed, and thought they were running a business.  He sighed, that is easy to fix, amen.



Beat the Devil

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.