Foundation Building

The wine farmer, nods, he is explaining the terroir, the land, and what it means to the wine maker. He has a glass bottle in his hands; in it, four types of soil, the difference, is there a difference wonders the small audience. Sandy and pebbly, heavy and smooth, the four types of soil, are all part of the land. The best grapes grow in the light brown and pebble dash soil, more breathing and better drainage he says, pointing to the far corner of the field; there is more sun too she smiles, one of the visitors says, sure.

They buy a few sample bottles; On the drive back to their lodgings, they discuss the enthusiasm of the farmer, how precise he was, how important the foundation is, and the power of the sun, to turn grapes into vintage wine, one of them is a teacher, she has a thought, her friends notice, “Lucy, what are you not sharing!”

Who wants to be serious on holiday, few. She wants to hold the thought. She imagines her children, her school children, as bottles of wine. Would it not be great to give them a foundation, rather than, toys that occupy their minds. She is high school, knows the problems facing families. How the mobile has replaced the parent almost, it’s not a popular thought, few will agree, but she is a teacher, and foundations are her core, just like the french wine maker, common sense to make those foundations secure.

Difficult times help us gain insight … a re blog, I just added a bit to the title..

Psalm 145:1-21 Every believer experiences moments of challenge or discomfort. The question is, How do we deal with them? King David discovered that remaining strong and fruitful during trying circumstances begins with praising the Lord. Then, once his focus shifted upward, he was ready to meditate on the glorious splendor of God’s majesty and also […]

via The Moments That Sustain Us — Jesus is the answer!

The Born Identity

via Jesus Says — Three Iron Nails

The Great Flood

What’s great about a flood, every ancient and not so ancient generation, have experienced one, Solomon was being vague. You speak in riddles some say, he sighs, sometimes it easier than saying it straight, it’s less offensive for starters, but talk of floods, he experienced a few himself, and learned. The talk across the world was of the sexual disease that seemed to attack almost anyone with a semblance of power. A new story, another victim, another story, another and than another, to a point when it is all they can think of, sexual crimes. The last thing the world needed to hear, another victim, another big name hits the dirt, the press is foaming at the mouth, in newsrooms they glance at each other, what about bob, what about john, what about the 300,000,000 under tens with access to the adult web, the real flood they all ignored. It was simple math, the Spirit is a living heart, real living heart, and the young hearts carry the hope, they have soul, meanwhile, while the adults rage and tell their stories, this flood is ignored, as if it wasn’t happening. It is easy get distracted, and human nature was forgetful. 50 million die in the last great war, all of them victims, a flood of evil forgotten.

The demon and his ilk were glad to have the focus on the current imbalance, while the real flood continued unabated, as if there was nothing the could do about it. Solomon sighs, he wrote is a long time before, the simplest of solutions. Then a friend shows him the dark web as it it called, a zone off the main internet alley, where security allows anything to be traded, and it’s all legal, someone was fooling an awful lot of people. Say the prayer he sighed, it usually worked to halt the evil threat.

Can’t Afford it !

We can’t take him in, she was adamant. James comes home with an elderly man, he’s ragged in appearance, has done it once before. Jane is not sympathetic, she looks the old man over, wonders where they would be safe, where the locks of the inside door are. Her eyes rise up to meet James full on, what are you doing to me, we can’t afford this.

If you let me stay I’ll clean the place, Jack is not impressed by the token words, well meant, but Tony can’t look after himself, he’s got the ageing disease, and friends are few, why me wonders Jack, as he heads for the kitchen, coffee on his mind for his elderly friend, and hopefully some peace of mind for himself.

She screams at the boy, alcohol moves the emotions, he cowers, the five year old, covers his head, is worried about a blow he might receive. The friends look away, it’s a party after all, besides the child should be in bed, but the music woke him, so he comes down, weary eyed, and worried, Mammy didn’t want her possible new boyfriend to see him.

Witness, witness, put a line through it and forget you saw it. The report is another call to the arms, the youth of the district are being assaulted in every way there is. The local dealer has a hold with the police that

Edgar hoover would have been proud of. The pay off will be a few days peace, if they ever decide to act on the intelligence anyway.

Witness, witness, did the birds know something we didn’t. Solomon recalled the dream, he was above the bed, looking down, he see’s a shell break open and then a body emerge, are we all birds, are we born again. A wry smile, he’d experienced that already, amen. Can’t afford to know the truth, you can say that again.

Don’t Blame Donald

The easy target, the big smile, the wealth, the power, the outspoken, the trouble with North Korea, the sexualization of the world, the permanence of God, where do we stand. We do not agree with what our parents tell us, we learn from experience, but one thing you can’t ignore, the lump under the carpet became a mountain, and now we have to deal with all of it. Some call it unfortunate, some call it a disgrace, tell that to the fish that swims in the dirty ocean, things have to change, don’t blame Donald, listen instead. 24 trillion off shore, banks using software to steal legally, one day is has to end, amen.