Addict Central

Darn, the buzzer goes, the alarm clock buzzes, who could be at the door, she clambers out of bed, bumps into the chair, what time is it, she wipes her eyes, clearing, the buzzer goes again, I’m coming she shouts, she knows the voice; frantic words are muttered outside, you have a ten o’clock and you are behind, she fumbles with the lock. The door opens, she retreats to the kitchen, the kettle is set to work, her assistant is done up to the nines, darn, she looks better than me. She opens the press, where are the pain killers, she has a brain rush, you need to order more of these, she holds up the noisy container, two or three loose tablets left. Then she thinks to herself, the sleepers, they are getting low too

, and there could be an emergency, she dismisses the thought, the time she dropped the container on the bathroom floor, and how sticky they were when she tried to pick them up. What about the anxiety stuff she thinks. Her assistant says nothing for a few minutes, she has been through it before, addict central.

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Young Turk

Hair greased, slicked back, he is not attitude, he does not recognize authority, not of the human kind, his goal is heavenly, has seen his home village destroyed, the pain and trauma, the cheap words of world leaders, after every atrocity,  they have been saying the same thing for years, pass the book, let the next set of leaders take the chance, see how long will they last, meanwhile plan for retirement, and a comfy living, while observing the harm, from all their inaction. Did Jesus say the same, words are great, prayers too, but without love in actions to support, what were you anyway, an empty vessel, a lot of noise and nothing else, as for those long winded applauded speeches, just yellow paper now, faded as the dreams were, the hopes raised that never flew. The Young Turk does not intend to suffer that fate. He is patient, he intends no harm, and will do his thing, he does not want to loose the heavenly connections, that is what has been happening, these last fifty years. The Young Turk has ideas of his own, prays it straight, and when he does, the help always arrives, no fool him.

So many refugees on the move, so many trying to find a home, clean water, it used to be all over the place, why did we have to pour poison into the water; well, the child in rags playing in the rubble, forever hopeful. Solomon sighed, may the schemes of extremism and those who plan such things, implode of the extremists, amen. can’t we just accept we are different at times, amen.

Solomon sighed, he told the health professional a few details of Life in the Spirit, the struggle between the material and eternal life. Well, it’s not easy being a believer sometimes; it puts an onus on you.

No Arguments Today….

They don’t wash their hands before they eat, common sense really, they don’t wash their hands often enough we ought to say, Solomon was taking a journey in Time, way back. The habits we acquire, the niceties we build into our lives, how we behave when the going is good, how we can change when it appears to go wrong. Peace and calm is fine to look at, the sweet words of a counsellor or preacher, so refined and polite, perfect manners, a complete picture, just an image, a still life in a moving ocean.

Solomon read the story of old, the parable Jesus told, the ritual washing, the preparation of food, the prayers before eating, the thanks to God for all that is provided. Jesus was reminding his followers, that going throuhg your routine, was not the answer, but just a way of getting you into the zone, the warm up before the game begins, the stretching exercises if you will. When you pray to God or are aware of the divine influence around you, you need to be ready and able, how can you do the exam if you have not studied, how can you know God until you begin to listen.

Many wanted to fast track into the zone, they don’t like to wait. No arguments please, but there is no fast track to being loving, you are or you are not. There is no fast track to being compassionate, you are or you are not. There are no short cuts. Jesus reminded the followers; you have to get the basics right; and simply this, If you don’t love your fellow men and women how can you love me who made them, no argument please.

She sits up in her bed, starts to read her book, it’s a Holy Book. In the few moments she is in the zone, she forgets her troubles, her pain disolves. She is in the world of the Spirit. Strange as it seems, the first visitor she has, brings her back to her worries, are you all right dear. Solomon sighed, it’s odd how your pains can ease when your Spirit in on the rise, no arguments please, just smile.

 

Pass On The Blessings

Well, it’s a simple as it was said all those years ago, and it’s seen in the faces of those who age happily, and have a smile on them while they are passing. There is a light inside them, just as said by Jesus, let the light shine, it’s the power to heal and do so many other things. It’s that easy. We create space inside, the good stuff finds rest, the opposite to that the material wants, consumption, it’s as simple as that. No surprise when they call that wasting disease consumption, smile, the blessings are being passed on, amen. You just have to believe it, really that is.

Harry the Potter

Amo, what does He mean when he uses words such as potter, and stuff, it’s rather confusing, the request of a small child. Amo drifts back to his school days, he is having a recall while lying in bed in his care home. The thoughts on his mind when he faces the divine one, it’s like preparing for an exam, and Amo has high expectations.. A teacher all his life. He tries to remember the answer he gave that day. The child had one of the harry potter books in his hands, was there a connection he could make.

Amo thinks, don’t pretend if you don’t know the answer, and if it’s an educated guess admit it. Amo is tired of the so called global experts, and their expert opinions, it hasn’t worked, caused huge global problems, these so called expert opinions. A bit like Brexit and the United Kingdom, a huge bonus for every country but the United Kingdom, so much for expert opinion.

The potter fashions the clay, creates the vessel that holds liquids or foods, enables us to sit down and eat together. Without a vessel to hold water, think how difficult it would be. The Child nods, easy to understand that. So when it goes wrong sighs Amo, what does the potter do, say when it begins to leak. The child nods, that’s easy the little boy says. He makes a new one. Amo’s face widens into a grin, a wise little vessel this one is. Amo continues.

The clay can be refashioned too, when it gets out of shape he says and needs to be adjusted. You mean when it’s been made asks the Child. Amo sighs, God does not make mistakes, he wants to get it right. How about this he says smiling. The times when you know you done wrong and allow someone else to take the blame, how do you feel about it after, The child sighs, tears in it’s eyes, you feel bad, and you try to avoid them, don’t you, he says.

Amo is trying to connect the thinking of the Child to wisdom, there is no one solution. In his mind he recalls the teaching of Jesus, the faults that are passed on when we can’t forgive, and the resentment it causes later, and the harm passed on.  That would be one reason for refashioning the clay, apart from the destruction of the message it was supposed to carry… One way of putting it, enough for one day he sighs, the class is over, he is back in his bed in the care home, but smiles at the memory of long ago, seeds well sown, he’ll pass that test all right.

 

Word Power

It’s amazing sighed Amo, the old gitter is being helped onto the toilet, he can hardly walk, but it doesn’t matter so long as he gets there, least he can sit normally, word power he says, how words can shock us or inspire us, frighten us, warm our hearts, constrict us, start a fire in us, simple words. The ears are always open to words, we are programmed to hear them. so long as we are allowed, that’s why there are those that restrict us, words, we don’t want that said, it will only upset our plans, the big reputation at risk, afraid to hear them, and what others might think, the framing of words, an art form. What do you mean Amo asks the nurse, while helping him clean his ass. Words he sighs, it’s how we understand the world, we can’t do without them, how else can we communicate.

Solomon sighed, the way reputation is guarded, how voices are silenced, words usually. The only reputation worth having was one of the Spirit, the Spirit that enlightens, not the Spirit that darkens, words again, how we use them. The first words in the ancient scriptures, the word became alive, and the world was created, by Great Spirit, the light, word power again.

Those checking their bank accounts ought to do a check on their Spiritual well being, the words they use, the sentiment in the heart, were they merciful, did they try to achieve at any cost, did they undermine love in order to get what they wanted, did they blame others for their own lacking, a few words he sighed would sort it all out, word power again, same as a good prayer, amen.

 

If Spirit is the communication tool that is eternal, wasn’t it time to get practice at it, given all the recent changes…

Letting the secrets flow…

Having troubles, demons around, had enough, want to do something about it, “Joe the Slink” wears a sly grin, a member of the green mafia, an Irish outfit, he is passing on advice to a new member, there is the sense of desperation for anyone who wants to join, so Joe wants to impress the new member, give him a signing on present, same way they give you a bonus when you sign on for war, well, unless your medicated how else are you supposed to kill someone, you have to fill the head, get rooted as they say.

Man of poor reputation, throws the goodwill, gifts, suddenly, he’s all right. Joe the slink is no different, we wants the new recruit to have a happy first day, so he asks the new Member, “Sean, is there anything we can do for you he says”. The boy smiles, they are the words he wanted to hear.

“My Mother wants to get rid of demons and she says all you have to do is pray in the Name of Jesus, for someone good to pray for it, and your prayer is held, can you do that Mr Slink, please!”

Joe has got a dilemma, the kid is asking him to commit suicide.

The boy goes home, his head down, sad faced, Joe wasn’t able to pray for it, what will he tell his Mother, I failed.

“I told you they were all the same didn’t I!”