Can You Hear The Voice….

Beauty hides in the most strangest places, the stuff we surround the head with, the mental picture of the vision we see, the other stuff you learned, well, you thought you knew, the idea of that face producing a sound like that, isn’t that the same way we see a bird, we don’t consider the feathers or how green red or blue it looks, those thoughts are not in your head, your looking at nature, your not trying to analyse it, it’s there, it exists, it’s something you want to listen to, just the voice, it catches our ear, connects with a peace inside us.

The picture in our heads, how we zone in with the eyes, can it be for real, the sweet noise, the picture, what, the voice and sight does not register, it’s the way we see it, the stuff we learned, so this is what we think. Solomon was listening to the voice, the noise was sweet, but the presentation wasn’t exactly great, not what he was used to. The simplicity, it was as if another lesson was learned, how we assume that which we do not understand, can produce such a noise. He recalled the news of the singer on stage, the voice, then the source of the noise, out of reach mentally, not the picture we had of the voice. Is this how those with sight loss see it, with a different sense, or was that How God inside us saw it, amen. We seem so regulated internally, as if we don’t believe it, where did the voice come from after all…

Our World

We are the tenants in this world, the means for gathering we have been given, in our race to success, we tampered with the mixture, added chemicals to hurry the growth, we hurried to progress without thought of consequence, left our mistakes to the next generation, not that we planned it, we just hoped. Addiction to the material brought us to the brink, there is a limit, but when there is no water to drink, as they say, the options become limited, and in our efforts to distract others from our faults, we started wars to rally support for our schemes. If this sounds like an apology, I sure hope this is what you assume, how can we plead for mercy if we are not contrite and real. There are many flowers in the garden, multi colored, all races, all different sizes of fields, the reality of the words of Jesus, we are called to be Samaritans not judges, as some try to believe. There are no favorites, everyone is treated the same, we are compassion, we are love, we are charitable, if we truly believe. We are the tenants in that old parable, this you must believe.

Solomon was listening to the words of a far off preacher, a man of Godly esteem was having a final goodbye, he saw the crowd, many of them celebrities, and these are the thoughts he had. As Ezra says; when the day comes and you must face the judgement, you will only have your deeds and what comes out of your mouth to defend you, amen.

Believers don’t need to worry …Remember Moses, Abraham…

Easy for you to say, the words that slip from the tongue, are you able to prove it, the first words on most minds, easy for you to say. He is poorly dressed, his shoes leak, his hair is a mess, and there is only the price of a coffee in his pocket, don’t worry he says. Solomon sighed, he saw the Spirit at work, saw the anxious turn to happiness, it was the flip of a switch, come to think about it, so did Moses, but Moses always gave credit to God, he never tried to claim credit himself. Many years later, Jesus repeats the words, all glory to the Father. Those who are jealous of power and envious wondered, how can he do this; their response; he has demons in him they said. Jesus hears their thoughts, understands them better than they could possibly imagine and warns them; Dudes, you can say what you like about me, but if you dare insult the Holy Spirit, you won’t just regret it. Moses returns from the Holy Mountain, got the assurance from the Most High God, is content, this is working out he says to himself, he weeps, his joy immense, to have the approval of the eternal God, mega. Then he he see’s them back to their old ways, worshiping what’s earthly and common, same as those who judge people so quickly; not ambitious enough, you must be unwell; a child decides to serve God, had a career in front of him, what a waste his friends say. Forty years later, they ask their unambitious pal to intercede for them before God; life has a habit of turning around rather quickly. So if you believe, why worry then.

To see the wonders of God, amazing.

The Food of Life

She stands around the hot hob, her arm goes anti clockwise, as she stirs the healing mixture. Sometimes her tears fall, sometimes she sings, she adds a few herbs, and if she spots someone really ill, she adds an extra bit. Solomon sighed, how food well prepared and served with care lifted the Spirit within. It reminded him of the words of Jesus; how you disperse your charity, with humility. That’s it he smiled, that’s who she reminded him of, the caboodle they created, was the tastiest in the world, and you could never get enough while feeling fulfilled, you were left unfulfilled and wanting for more, yes he sighed, they serve the food of life, amen, thanks.

The King and I

A glass of water, a kind word, a hopeful smile, the boy wonders down the street, his mother and sister is ahead of him, he has ideas, his eyes wander from side to side, absorbing it all, it’s all new to him, his first time in the place where he stands. He is young, has seen plenty, wants me time, others like himself, games and thrills, it should not be that hard. Solomon watched the kid stroll along, that boy has attitude he sighed, the look in the eye, …

He was weighing up his new surroundings, feeling it out. Eye contact is made, the child makes a wry smile, I’m new here, just testing the water.

Solomon sighed, the old story, the well being of Spirit, what we do for others, that was who we are, and according to the words of Jesus, that was and is, the acid test, good intentions fine, actions much better. As the signs were coming faster than a Mother about to give birth, so it felt, and there are major awareness’s everywhere, and those who are extremists are feeling the pinch, in these times of Great Change, it was wise to remind oneself, how we would judge ourselves in relation to our lives, what would we find, a welcome from the King hopefully, amen…

I just Growing up…

She sits in the chair, a little subdued, the medication, she sits while she waits, she is not so sturdy, they gave her a diagnosis, the memory disease, well, it’s an age thing. The limbs don’t have the same stretch, your energy isn’t what it was, the eyes not a clear as they used to be, the appetite too, not as appealing, getting old they said, Mable sighs, I am on a journey, I’m not giving up, I am growing up. A mind of her own, her own ideas, she didn’t beleive the blarney of men in charge, thanks rubbish, who filled them with such stuff, who. She fought her life seeking equality, now the journey has brought her to the care home, at the mercy of those she railed against, those that followed the rules. A nurse approaches, Mabel frowns, the pills, the last time she refused it, they sedated her a whole day, and gave her god knows what. I was just forgetting stuff, doesn’t everybody do that. How much do so many hide inside their heads. How those playing games would change the topic once the questions got testy. No one is allowed question the experts.

Solomon smiled, the story he heard on the radio, the lady with the mind disease, all she wanted, treated me as I am, it’s not your pity I want. Getting old sighed Solomon, we just want to be accepted. The story is never ending, it’s just a change in circumstances, one day you breath, the next your a bird, flying somewhere. Do birds worry when they wake, do they reach for the medication. Mabel, she is a living being in a fast changing world, so fast, the time to look after her is no longer left to relatives, the world so busy, it can hardly look after itself.

The weather, warm and sunny, no one rushing, the only que at the ice cream van, mabel recalls the days of old, how everything that a mother could do was done, same as it always was, by mothers across the world. There is a bitter taste in Mabels mouth, its’ not the tablets, its the story in the paper. The role of women, whitewashed from all circles of importance from the beginning of christianity, then copied by other religions, framing the mind set, bastards she sighs to herself.

Helen Keller Day

Happy Birthday Helen, it’s been awhile but the memory lives on, the deaf blind are not alone anymore, your name summons the help, it is how we can best remember her. They gather at the funeral, they have tears in their eyes, we will never forget you tears, then they forget you. Helen, you were a prophet, you changed the way many see disabilities, same way the earlier prophets aroused Interest in God, reminding them. We have gone astray, the light comes, then the memories return, we have another destiny, it’s greater than this world, Helen Keller, you remind us, thanks.

Lying in the bed, she is safe, the dark has no fear, she is on the same level, he holds her, she dreams, her troubles don’t exist when she is safe in his arms. Solomon sighed, that is what it is like, when in the presence of God, the presence of Love kills all fears. Then the day comes, and the reminders are there, what she would give to be safe in his arms. Solomon sighed, some names makes us feel good, Helen Keller does.