Dot Dot Dot…

The unseen becomes life, the unseen causes death, as for Faith, it’s an invisible gift. Solomon was reading the ancient scriptures, the story of the mustard seed, and how Jesus told his apostles; all you need is a faith the size of a mustard seed, the smallest of all seeds, and when you have that faith, anything is possible. In the context of today, the worry over the corona virus, and how what is invisible to the eye, and impossible to see unless under the microscope, can be so lethal, it only reinforces the power in those original words, as spoken. Faith depends on deeds of course, as without them, your faith is mere words.

Solomon was reflecting on how the smallest bits in creation have such a huge impact on our lives; the story of the bee one more example, the plankton that the huge whales depend upon; in a nutshell what is tiny can be both life saving and life destroying; perhaps it’s another reference to the delicate nature of the Spirit, and how easily it is disturbed.

life begins from the tiniest of sources, yet carries with it the experience of other generations, as the habits molded

their in, reflect so much of life in the past; how it is possible. Then to compare with human folly; how so many boast of what is common and meaningless; amen.

2020 Vision

Less distraction more action, she was used to his ways, he  was always side tracking the issue.  It became her talk, she being a mother, didn’t have time for pride to overtake her, the needs of others overcoming her, for she was born to love, being a mother from the day she was born.

Solomon listened to the news, the cat calls at the young protesters, and the disdainful comments of those who should know otherwise, how silly of them. The Global environment was a ship in the middle of a storm, pushed side to side against each approaching wave, the good captains and queens, working earnestly to keep the ship afloat, similar to the carers everywhere, just doing it, for goodness sake,  for no other reason.

He sighs, should they not be encouraging the young to get involved in these healthy pursuits, why the resistance. Did they see, those in power seats, did they see an appeal  in the young something so many seemed to be blind to. Solomon prayed, may we have 2020 vision, and see what has to be done, may the schemes of the extremists and the deceivers implode on them alone, and those who encourage all that is wrong… The Sun burst from the clouds, the Heavens were talking, put it in writing He said. Solomon wondered what else where was to do, being wise he hoped, he decided to wait, patience was a virtue few possessed, while the world expected the opposite, instant results, amen.

Solomon sighed, who was it, the prophets names, Isaiah, yeah, he prayed for rain, golly, there is power in His words.

Generations

The pot in the yard, the food is mostly vegetable, no one is worrying about the shops, they are miles away, no phone, no mail, primitive living. Years later, mobile phones in hand, not enough vegetables, and too many shops, everyone focused on the word bargain, modern living. Solomon was looking back on the steps we took, the inventions, the speed of life, how things hurry up, the elderly sent to homes, focus on the future, our greatest worry, the loss of our mobile.

The current generation, from 2,000 on, distant from many of the habits many grew up in. International travel, expansion of services, combined thinking, networking, trying to get a handle on opportunity, trying to overcome the opposition, funding is vital, no one does it for free. The Mayan calender’s warnings, the world will change after the year 2,000, some thought it would come to an end. In someways it has already, the turning point, the emotional gap between generations, how empathy for the past is over shadowed, by the fast thinking millennials, who under the barrage of the social network, have no time to dwell on how things as they were.

Solomon was reflecting; what would the current millennials think of older generations.

INN Keeping with the Spirit…

 

She pulls her bag, the shoppers pass by, she is not covered in smiles, quite the opposite. She wants to get home, she is safe there. Just feeling safe, there is a lot for her to worry about, her friends have gone their ways, she rarely hears from them, booze and anxiety causes separation, its’ a busy world. God will help me, she prays a lot, Her Faith is based on her deeds; she has given a lot and not asked for much in return. Her bag clinks, it’s a lonely time, she wants her time out, the past can be hard to bare. She toiled with the oppressed, gave more than most, now her Spirit weeps, she is in need of a revival.

Inn Keeping with the Spirit, sighed Solomon, and difficulty with the birth, the lack of space, the need to find a shelter, for the young life inside her to survive, or for the Spirit inside her to revive. Many stories are told, the beautiful Jesus, the wealthy visitors with the gifts for the new King, the threat against the new Spirit. There are many ways to interpret Christmas, but in keeping with the Spirit, finding a suitable space for the Spirit to revive, could be the answer to all our problems, just as the story suggests, amen.

A tribute to a long passed friend, who was there for many, but fell foul of the demons, be blessed, amen.

The Healing Words of Jesus…

In the material, there is not much of the Spirit, and how this addiction to stuff has harmed the environments, all of them, is anyone’s guess. Of course there is help, but sometimes pride gets in the way; have I the ability to ask, every heart has to ask, did I close it off just to make others happy, did I side with those who made me feel comfortable, did I ever take a stand, did I go with the herd, did I ever really listen, to the Healing Words of Jesus, no deception. it’s inside you, space is needed, and there are those who will do their utmost to get you to follow their ways. Jesus had no way, his faith in God the Father, all credit to the Father, no idols either, why, well, as the papers remind us daily, we seem to take enjoyment watching them fall, call it envy, call it jealousy, call it what you like, the papers fill us with this sort of news, and see how easy it is, to push those buttons inside you. You only have to conjure up a name, then you apply a scandal, people are easily led.

But as Jesus said; how you judge others is how you will be judged, there is no escape from this. And if you transgress and say harmful things of the Holy Spirit, well, if you need to ask…you haven’t read the Healing words of Jesus. there is no boutique religion or tradition, no compassion, none shown, forgive and you can be forgiven, amen.

Write or Listen

The anxious writer is frustrated, like a junkie seeking the hit, the dealer is late, and he is getting upset as hell. He moans in front on the machine, darn, where is my inspiration, the stuff sends him into another dimension; allows a fertile imagination to go places, some light, mostly dark, where is the dealer, his nerves are at him, in frustration he thumps the table, I need my fix, shit, I will get a new supplier, frustration, he teeth chatter, he is feeling the withdrawal, he has to produce some words, he is a writer after all. Where do you go, he refuses to put words on the page, he is waiting, words, me, me, me.

To listen these days sighed Solomon, is so rare. So many want the attention, can they ever listen, the big man with the power, a junkie for attention, demands, takes what he wants, and worse than that, expects to get away with it. Where is this humility these believers are supposed to have, it is written in the books of old, a little respect. The husband who bosses the wife, sits, where is my meal, darn good cook though.

Write or listen, Solomon smiled, he heard a voice call out the Holy Name, he was heading home, to his temp abode, he laughed inside, the words of old were on many lips, and people were listening. To imagine, a gathering of folks, all sorts, listening to the prophets, wondering what Jesus was going to do next, while all Jesus did through his life, was encourage the kingdom of God, on earth. Listening is good too.

The junkie writer gets the hit, he launches into words, that will impress them he thinks. Jesus, just told the truth, amen.

It Couldn’t Happen to Me….9/11

How often we look at others, our eyes turn down, for a moment or two, as we try to digest what it feels like, or how lucky we feel, it wont happen to me, they don’t seem too well, how could they cope with it, their loss our escape, lucky us, how long do we read the news from afar, the casualty list, the numbers, do we think of families or is it our luck we are sizing up, lucky me. How lives can change with dramatic affect, for all time. Solomon recalled the morning news, all those years before, the seeming animated picture, this could not be real, not live on TV, it has to be a computer generation, then the reality a minute later, that’s real people, that was real jet fuel, that is real life and it’s before the eyes of the world. How one day can alter so much. History teaches us, anything can happen, and old scripture reminds us, there is another life.

Solomon listened to the news, the anniversary, the where were you moment as it were, and the decisions made afterwards, to start a war, and the results thereafter, when the call for a great peace was lost in the big talk, we’ll get even, regardless of the cost, the soldiers return home years later, shell shocked, the desire for guns increasing daily, the nationalistic calls, revenge and security, we have the power. The Roman empire wanted to dominate the world through force, or fear, God had other plans, the memorials still exist, to remind us, war does not work, it only leads to worse.

Mothers, fathers brothers sisters, when did revenge do it for you, or what did revenge do for you; usualy caused more need for guns, and the mentality that using force brings, hatred usually, amen. Jesus pleaded forgiveness, knew how our thoughts are formed, the baggage that destroys, those bitter memorires that you save up, for that great moment, same as the viagra hidden in the shaving bag, for use when you could not do it yourself, but there in the bag, in order to save your pride. Well, in a world thar that wants immediate satisfaction, there are no buffer zones, or patience. Amen

How Many Victims do you Need?

Solomon sighed, the dream, the frenzy, the fear, the blood hatred in the eyes of those seeking justice, the lengths they were willing to go, they wanted their victim, they sought blood. Was this a re telling of the Great Play, by William, The Merchant of Venice, how our desire for so called justice blinds the light inside us.  It was dream time, and he was sharing the worries of another, a young relation of a war victim, as everyone who partakes in war are victims, the winners and the losers, what are they left with; the fields of Vietnam, the concentration camps of world war two, so many victims. Solomon reflected on how the values of an older generation were side lined, as a more modern minded, justice now mind set, took over the leadership of many flocks, and how they used past hatreds to corral the flock into action. None of them held memorials for the millions of children, abused indirectly over the internet, having to digest what few of us could escape unharmed from. How many lives had ended, when the posse was in pursuit, Jesus among them, the thirst for justice becoming a drug as the mob got larger and larger. Revelation sighed Solomon, they might not listen to the words of the Prophets, but they did react to revelation, knowing their day for their judgement could arrive any given day.

Solomon smiled, he caught the dream, listened, saw the spotlight shine on the so called refugee, villain, the light shone for a minute, perhaps less, the mob now has a thirst, the chase over this time, they headed off in search of another. Father, Teach them he prayed. They try to raise the fears in others to justify themselves; and the harm they cause grows like a virus. Solomon say the signs, saw the Spirit, what a sight, and every day since, he was writing rescue remedies, with a lot of success.

Uncertain Times Today

Extremists are being rounded up, their schemes are falling apart, and while there are some who still encourage hate, they can never succeed, it’s as simple as that. Amo was listening to the news, a plane falls from the Sky, a hundred and fifty seven die, a mad man storms a holy place in New Zealand, Christchurch, 49 souls die, how pointed was that he sighed, demons, when will they give up. A good prayer was called for, the usual suspects hope for the worst of reactions, those on the side of good, pray for compassion and understanding, those of evil mind, want resentment and hatred to grow, it was a table tennis match, if such could describe things. Amo sighed, remain calm, it will all work out.

Why do things go wrong, why do good people die, why did I lose my Father when I was young, why why why, there are so many questions that many sought the answers too. The emotions are torn and twisted, why, the heart is sighing, how will I get over this. Amo smiled, it’s not too difficult, sometimes we don’t understand why we exist at all. Some on us in constant state of pain, while others just float across the sky, effortless. It’s about Spirit sighed Amo, there is light and dark, and the story of the talents, think about it.

What did Jesus spend his life doing, in a nutshell, raising the Holy Spirit, reminding us, that God is inside us, you just have to make room, as if you are expecting a visitor to call, it’s not too hard, until this world addicts you, amen. Why did he get rid of demons, why, he came to teach us about our potential, not to let our bad habits overcome us.

Everything she ever wanted…

The attention, free love, the extras, lots of friends, everything she wished for, but there is still a hole inside her, that nothing material can fill, why can’t it be normal. She envies her friends, they’re normal, the boring partners, the routines they have, he leaves the bowl down, never washes the dishes, is always giving Margot their child treats, he shouldn’t spoil them that much, everyone nods and smiles, inside her heart is longing, but she knows, you can’t bring children into the world without foundations. Her friends recommend the child in a box scenario, the artificial thing, you get a list of prospects, and do it yourself. It’s not what she wanted. She retreats inside, it has to be there, the original feelings, where did they go, how do you decide. Everything she wants, it’s already inside her.

The eyes are giveaways, there is an emptiness, she is replaying the lives of old glamour queens and actors, every time she see’s them on the screen, not me hopefully she says. when i get older, i will be surrounded by those who grow with me, those who really love, is it the price of fame, well it comes with risk. I’ll get through it. The next day she decides to slow down, three months later she is on a beach, away from the attention, and herself, the way she used to be, all she ever wanted.