Aimee Mcpherson

A woman is filled with the Spirit, an energy that comes from afar, it has the power to heal, word spreads everywhere, Her name is Sister Aimee McPherson, she lived in the early parts of the 1920’s, started the revival movement, a woman, and this at a time when women had few rights, just imagine it. They came to her in droves, they even built the great Theater in Los Angeles, what was the history of this woman, and more importantly, where did that Spirit go. If it was around once it will be around again.

Solomon was reading the story of the pioneering spirit, who filled meeting halls and temples to over flowing capacity, while delivering the healing help, what happened to this great energy. It was an insight to to today, when preachers had lost that initial zeal, tied down by too many burdening rules, as if the impressionists themselves were under threat as they painted their great masterpieces. Who was Aimee McPherson.

 

 

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Is that enough!

Advice, all he heard was advice, advice, from his teachers, from his parents, just about everyone, wanted to give him advice. His parents, who argued daily, advising him, teachers who wanted to see the back of him, advising him, as if he hadn’t enough, he was getting more advice, advice on what to do, advice on how to escape, his upbringing. Had enough, he had enough, the doctor wants to put me on medication, medication, for what, for being honest. The day he tried to throw his father off the balcony, he meant it, he had enough.

Ten years later he waits for the therapist, his fourth in six months, for more advice. Waiting he picks up a magazine, the good parent guide book, he looks at it, dismiss’s it, ten years too late. His young years were lost, his parents being hippies, didn’t approve of Christmas. Imagine it, they smiling at him, their friends, discussing the great philosophers, the wisdom of old, the way Rousseau wanted children to have real life experience when young, like visiting prisons, hospitals, these things they could discuss, as for Christmas, it was a capitalist plot to relieve you of your money. That was the argument they used, we are different, we are not like the other lot. Saved them from giving up the booze or rearing us. Perhaps Rousseau might be impressed with the real education we endured. I just want to enjoy Christmas like all the other children, is that enough?.

Solomon sighed, why couldn’t all the religious tribes enjoy the season, and put the interests of their children’s future first. Allowing them to make friends was the start, is that enough.

If you take four of these a day, they should begin to affect you in about a week, if you feel squeamish that is normal, if you get sick i wouldn’t worry, but if it continues for a day or more, come see me. Same time next week smiles the doctor, I have had enough, amen.

Imagine It

If you could turn every one with evil intent into a babbling fool, just imagine it, their mouths pouring our dribble, imagine it. Solomon was recalling the story of old, the power of Great Spirit, the power the Child Jesus was gifted with. Casting out demons was on Solomon’s mind, the grudges, hatred, resentments that so many carried and found an opening at the wrong time. At least with alcohol you had to consume it first before you went on the rampage. With the silent resentments and hatreds stored within, (good reason or not, experience or what), once the topic was raised, accordingly, the partnering feelings rise with it, those deep seated feelings and anxieties, boom, the explosion, touchy feely they say, they being friends, they being polite. Imagine it, God Most High, who has heard it all, waiting for mankind to mature, the way a farmer waits, for the plant to give it’s full potential, imagine it, waiting for the day, when they would all realize that today was the day everyday, not the baggage you brought with you everywhere, smile, amen.

Are you worth it!

seriously, you can’t be, you don’t mean what you say, nobody could, am I worth it, do you think your buying me dear, he has a fierce gaze, she is looking for a slave, another to add to the thousands she already owns. The eyes are intense, the captured, the bounty of war, is being sold off with all the other possessions of victory, the mercenaries wont fight again unless they are paid, and a young man is worth ten years free labor, should make a price, I’ll take she says, while jabbing him with a spiked stick, he reacts, but the chain around his neck holds him in check. I’ll train you she says to herself. She has broken the spirit of many strong men, not forgetting the women and children she bought down through the years. Rome, you got to be joking, this is downtown Manhattan.

Thank you for calling our help desk, please hold, a sales assistant will be with you shortly, slaves waiting, the whole darn world, waiting. Solomon sighed, he wrote the story of the Holy Spirit so often, and then changes, divine, it was not the usual way to spend a life, should have been fleecing them online, selling all sorts, whatever, but then again, who could he complain to, if it all went pear shaped, only the One who sent the Great Spirit, and there was no escaping that, are you worth it.

Our thoughts maintain the world, but turning them into wise actions is the one essential, Solomon recalled the words of Jesus, 2,000 years old, but alive, God resides inside you, are you a good neighbor, amen.

Rewarding Hate

The details are gross, the readers are in the millions, the details are worse than a bad day in a slaughter house. Fixated the readers are spell bound, did they really do that, the small details thrill the most, the writer gets an award for encouraging hate. Solomon recalled the times, when there were elders, wise men in every community, wise women too, (do i here the sexist complaint). In times of distress, the wise elders were the first source of comfort. The matter is discussed, the complainants make their case, the well being of the community comes first, ears do not need to hear the details. Why fill the heads with all sorts of strange thoughts, same reason they used to try and shield young children and others from pornography, it wasn’t deemed good for a healthy society. Are you joking they say in their heads, this stuff is ancient, get to the modern world dude, wake up, what’s wrong with rewarding hate.

The bias we pass on, the activities we encourage by giving them Ink, the ideas we plant into the head, same as the daft environmentalists, when the river is poisoned they suddenly decide to act.  Solomon prayed for revelation, and help from the world above. He encountered Holy Spirit, encountered the enemies to love as well, there was a need for a worthwhile prayer, a basic set of words that would help all

that was good, so he thought about it for awhile. One thought could turn those who deceive and those who encourage evil into babbling fools, a good idea, imagine if it works. everyday since he listened, the real intentions of many are made known, and it is growing, so much for those who reward hate.

Friends

Have a nice day, listen to this!

Where has Daddy Gone….

I hear that again she says, I hear it everyday, her head is splitting, what can she answer, he has left them, just keep them busy, she does her best, works two jobs to keep it together, their boy, well, her boy, what do you say to the abandoned child. Besides she thinks, so many have to get used to it, a moral crime, but who notices. Halloween is approaching, trick or treating she smiles. He is helping her clean the kitchen, his small hand on the brush, I’ll do this he says. He heard it said in church, do good at home and the Good Lord will help you out, so he tries.

Where is Daddy gone, she hears it in the morning, how can I fix it for him, buy him a new toy, anything to distract him. Seeking the love he has been denied, he will seek till something overtakes his emotions, he’s a pushover for anything that blurs his mind. The years pass, he is in a jail cell, sharing it with another affected child that never grew up.  What did your father do asks his cell mate, how can you answer, he was a deadbeat, left them.

Solomon was listening to a story, it was hard on the heart what he heard, the stuff you have to listen to, but a listener he was. The child is a tool in a warring marriage gone wrong, hurt the father, deny him access, it’s her trump card. all she did was hurt her child. Bargaining with love and turning it into hate instead, was this the fate of the world he wondered. They planned for the worst in government circles, never once thinking there was another way. Solomon sighed, do they want Holy Spirit to succeed, or is it just words.

In a nutshell, the world and it’s survival depended on the love on offer, he hoped it was going to improve, amen. Storms had eased, blessings poured in, it was not imaginary, Solomon was reminding himself, the life on offer had much to offer, if only we put a little more thought into it. His own woes had been increased and he was trying to avoid trouble, was it a test, hardly, just the demon hoping to confuse him. Are you listening Dear Father in Heaven?.