Freedom to Speak

Will I vote, why bother, it’s the same result, the election is rigged. The feelings in the hearts of those, who lived among dictatorships for a long while, mainly in the African continent. Solomon spoke to the young man, he was trying to find the election station, Solomon was. It was just one of those moments, you take a wrong turn, and you end up learning something new, or maybe it’s called an affirmation.

The young member of the Islam faith, spoke of the difficulty of democracy in some countries. The local dictator was in power, the money was stolen and placed off shore annually, the rights of the population ignored; the young man sighed, they are Just Muslims in name, Solomon sighed, it’s not any different from those claiming the Christian faith; they issue the words but they rarely follow the faith. however as they parted, they both agreed, that it was easy for all faiths to live side by side, when the pride is removed, and the power is shared. It was an important point for election day. Many chose their party, their friends, their interests, rarely considering the overall well being. Jesus being a central character in all the Faiths, wasn’t it easy to see where the bridges of understanding had to be built; projecting the old wisdom, not the propaganda, that money was constantly buying.

A lot can happen on the way to the poling station.

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.

The Calm Inside

I’ll be home tonight, the echo down the line, the pause, it’s going to be fine, the hearts will unite, and peace will be found. She hangs up. The worries of the day will be set aside. Years before, western united states, The wagon people, the wanderers of old, setting off across the wild west, seeking refuge, a new life, hope, had a few run ins with those they met along the way, the food is not great either, and a bath would be wonderful. Then smoke is seen in the distance, life, it’s a building with a smoke stack, relief, the calm inside, we have made it. The Salmon sets off across the Atlantic, a six thousand mile swim, home to the seed beds, a small river inches deep in water, same as a blob of blood in your little finger seeking it’s way to your toes, nice comparison, but it has to reach the end of your big toe in order to start over again.

Solomon was recalling the calm in the temple, a large crowd had gathered, there was an evening of remembrance going on, and many had come seeking a blessing, then the Spirit filled the entire building with a perfect calm. The Preacher began his sermon, the air was crystal clear, there was hardly a breath to be heard, there was a Holy calm, the Spirit had come home. Solomon sighed, who would believe this calm in a world so worked up, but there it was, as rare as a glass of crystal clear water.

It reminded him of the calm that filled him, the night the “Spirit” arrived in his life, as he watched the dancing spectacle. From that day he knew it would work out, and it had. It led him to a calm inside, amen.

Not Another Boring Day….

The bed is so comfy, the dread of the office, you might even pick up a cold, everyone is complaining of the virus, another one does it’s rounds. You pull the covers a little higher, it’s safe in there, and warm, the thought of cold water on your face, the shock of it, is there anything better to do, and don’t forget the mouthwash, nay, I’d rather stay in bed and have a few beers, reflect on the times I was young and brave, and there was a cause to fight for, those were the days. The clock buzzes, the repeat alarm, who invented such a thing, same as adds on the TV, thank god for the world that allows us watch TV without having to digest the adds. The media influence is slipping and the people are finding their voice, amen.

The rules, you can’t eat this, and that is bad for you too, seems like you will have to dump the contents of the fridge again, third time in a month. Too much money perhaps, and no common sense, your thinking all the time while under the duvet. You recall that movie, the guy takes out the friends Ferrari, Ferris someone or other, you remember, it was a few years ago, the stuff you remember, it was years ago, still you recall, not so bad, your testing the old grey matter, nothing wrong with it. Time to call in a sickie, one less in the office, temporary staff will get a call, someone will eat an unexpected lunch, even better, a child will get an unexpected treat, courtesy to your non arrival at work, ever see it like that, possibly not, you know now, so what are you waiting for.

Stuff you used to do, and still want to, the mornings under the duvet. You are not getting up for work you say, the words you used long ago when the pillow was not empty, the damn rules and the fear it spreads. Impressionism wasn’t painting in the fifteenth century, but it was many years later, and possibly the most sought after art there is today, everything changes. You grab the duvet and smile, you are still willing to risk it, and it feels good.

Solomon sighed, I will have to get a regular job one day, but today I’m going to be me. The rules, even Jesus had to put up with the jibes, well, he was stealing the power of the so called rulers of the day, so they imagined, well he wasn’t, it was just an awful lot easier when you say it as it is, and stop the acting as so many of them did, in order to secure their jobs and the power they held. A reminder to everyone, you can change it any given day, and once you understand that and think how others feel, the world around you brightens up, and all despair just leaves you, you just have to imagine it.

Power of the Imagination

Words, she reads the page, feels her skin at the back of her neck curl, scary, she can imagine it, the atmosphere and the experience, it feels so real. The Power of Miracles, they came, they heard, they saw it themselves, from God he said, The Great One. It must be demons, their first reaction, as if they were afraid of them, they were afraid of him, he could read their thoughts, why the surprise he said, can’t a bird just lift up and fly, see how a butterfly transforms itself, you don’t assume it was an accident, do you?

Their first thoughts; the demon had caused the miraculous, who else had the power. Their own words, pointed to a conflicting force, he was of the light. Imagine it, the dulling of belief, then the resurrection of the Spirit, when they saw it for themselves, food for thought. Imagine, their consciences, their sleepless nights, as they straddled over all the harm they caused, enlightening.

Solomon, was recalling, the episode, when the Pharisee’s challenged Jesus, as to where he got the power to do what he did; It’s simple, when God resides in you, amen.

The New Coliseum Rules

God takes his seat,

Peter joins him,

Below row by row

The true saints,

Trumpet sounds

Shrikes and cries

Enter the dragons

No fangs no teeth

Trembling all alone

Any redeeming qualities

Lives flash before them

Tears terror horror

Total greed selfishness

Deception and hatred

Any redeeming qualities

Peter shakes his head

Nothing I can do

Ground opens up

Swallowed up disappears

Next please

Advertising Industry,

Banking industry

Same situation

Same treatment

Same result

Least no crying children

In new coliseum rules