When the Time is Right ... Confirmation

How do you know that you are walking “Your Path”? What endorsement … what validation … what affirmation cements your confidence in the right-ness of your elections? Just like you, I had the desire for certainty. My confidence skated on the thin ice of a fragile Belief and wavering Conviction that I was being the person that I was created to BE. I, like you, was challenged by the voices of loving, caring, concerned, and trusted friends who offered their opinions and perspectives on my life choices. And none … absolutely none of them could see the rationale for my determinations. Yet … I persevered on the strength of an inner conviction that I was in harmony with the leading of the Source of all that is true.

Then Life reached out with a steadying Hand and a reassuring Voice in the person of the only individual who (as a consummate human being) could command my absolute confidence and respect. He was a respected and honored Scientist and Educator … and a deeply committed Spiritual Being. Inasmuch as he is no longer with me in physical presence (though certainly still-known in spirit) I can, and will, reveal his identity (want, as he was, to remain invisible, humble, and unobtrusive.) Swaminatha Sundaram, (Professor-Chairperson (Physics), University of South Florida, 1982 [B.Sc.; M.S.; Ph.D., D.Sc., Annamalai University, India, 1960]) became a dear Friend, Confidant, and Joy in my life from the moment of our initial meeting (as he placed his mail in the post-box at the curb, and I delivered the morning newspaper in the pre-dawn hours of the day.)

It was during one of our treasured luncheon visits together, that he (being a man of very few … yet each one valuable … words) said “You, My Friend, are a true Priest. You walk your daily path as lead by The Spirit … minister to each life encountered along that path … asking nothing and expecting nothing save the meeting of your physical and material needs. All at the direction and through the provision, of that controlling Spirit.”

Confirmation! I can tell you, My Dear Reader, that I have never, in all of my life, been more honored, humbled, and moved than at that moment. Life had warranted and authenticated my convictions in terms that I would never have known to ask for or expect. And I can now share this story with you, as my personal testimony to the certainty, that you will know, with sureness, the appropriateness of your life elections ... if you will but exercise that awesome power, of your own Free Will, to follow the Inspiration … the Inclination … the Leading of your own personal and individual “Still, Quiet, Inner-Voice.” Mindful that doing so will often be to the exclusion of all outside "influences."

I cannot promise you riches, fame, glory, or applause as an expectation resulting from such a disciplined and oft-courageous (and sometimes lonely) choice. What I can, and do, guarantee you is Joy, Confidence, Peace of Mind, and Spirit, that gives (in time … and with patience) rhyme, reason, and meaning to all of the conflicts, pains, disappointments, and sorrows of a life so lived. And ... at that time and in that place, when and where you need, and are ready for it ... you can expect, in some form, a confirmation and validation ... from the Creator of all that You are ... from "Life." A confirmation and validation of the reality of your BE-ing that unique and particularly special Individual, that You are equipped (by nature, inclination, and experience) to … BE.

This is, I promise you, My Dear Friend, the greatest reward that can possibly be imagined. To know that you are living in harmony with the intention of your Creator in the world that is your daily walk. That all is Right with You and your place in all of Time and Eternity. And it is to the encouragement, endorsement, and enabling of You, in your personal pilgrimage, that I am committed … as I remain;

Your constant Friend and unwavering Servant.



IMAGES through the gracious courtesy of Jon Sullivan, PDPhoto.org

Kinship in Spirit

As I enjoyed the televised travel show, I was impressed with the ceaseless supplications, transmitted by these Prayer Flags, on the pathway up to the Bhutan's Taktshang ("tiger's nest") Monastery.

I was glad for a better understanding of the concept of ongoing Prayers being carried heavenward on the bits of constantly-disintegrating fabrics. In this, I was reminded of the Scriptures’ “Pray without ceasing” admonition." In these Prayer Flags, I saw a physical manifestation of that directive. I appreciated further personal enlightenment in hearing the Commentator’s explanation of the Belief that each Individual achieves “higher Karma” through their commitment to climbing upward, in their arduous ascension toward the ‘Holy Site’ of this Monastery. And here I found a like Truth in “Take up your burden and follow …” as presented in so many various forms of exhortation, toward disciplined Discipleship, in scripture. I saw Unity in intent, purpose, and expression here.
My ‘virtual’ pilgrimage served (through the presentation by “Travels to the Edge”), to weave, yet more tightly, threads of Truth, into the Fabric of spiritual unity between Faiths. Truth, offered through the perspectives of authors of the Bible … in complete harmony with the very same Truth demonstrated in the utilization of these Prayer Flags placed by faithful followers of the Buddhist Faith. Both aware of some whispered inner Voice that communicates to them the Message that says, “It is good to always maintain a reverential and prayerful attitude toward that Power that created Us ... All." And Each responding, in methods and forms, in keeping with their particular worlds.
How beautiful is this demonstration of our kinship in spiritual awareness! And how blessed we are when we can accept personal growth and validation of our cultural and societal interpretations, and expressions of our individual spiritual sense … through one another’s shared methodologies. Prayers … whether expressed in whispered words, or bits of flags that send their messages heavenward … are one and the same. Our Souls’ expression of all that we know the need to render. Ever more clearly … we are Kin with each other. Or so it seems to my Understanding.


IMAGE: National Geographic Society

Flexible Containers

With our environment of language, and practice, as the "container" and the truths that Life brings to to us as '‘substance'’ for our "containing"... might it not behoove us to be reminded that the container is not the measure of the quality of the substance contained, and should be readily reconsidered, when the demands of the substance, outweigh the capacity of the vessel.

It seems appropriate then, with the understanding that the confines of religious practice, nomenclature, ritual, and dogma are but Man's feeble attempts to encapsulate and express spiritual truths that transcend the bounds of earthly abilities ... it might be a good idea (as spiritual insight and awareness grow and develop) to adjust, modify, reconstruct, refresh, revise, and/or discard those practices, rituals, nomenclature, and/or dogma (containers) that no longer accommodate our evolving Awareness (substance)?

Ah, the joy of freedom in expressing new truths and understandings in an environment of healthy, positive, and dynamic enthusiasm!

John-Michael
(Originally penned: 11 August 1998)


IMAGE: Through the gracious courtesy of Ian Britton, FreeFoto.com

By Whatever Name ... In Every Way

The heart of a Father soars
at the first unintelligible sounds of loving recognition
from his infant child.

He requires no lofty phrases of oratory …
no declaration of profound allegiance
or obedient devotion.

His joyful acceptance
of this simplest, unadorned, adoration and trust
is without reservation or qualification.

This is true in the lands and regions
of all of humankind.

Language, custom, tradition, and setting
have no dilutive effect
on this timeless dynamic.

So it was with those first recognitions
of an awesome Power …
some inexplicable Source …
by earliest Man.

He expressed his sense of wonder and awe
in scratchings on wood, stone, or earth.

He gave vent to his need for expression
through ritual and ceremony …
with dance, song, and works of artful display.

The Father of all that is
cannot have been any less affected
by these efforts to speak,
than any father regarding his child.

A touch; a look; a sound from an adoring child
is always appropriate and correct
in the heart of its father.

I am certain that the “I Am” hears
the absolute, unadulterated message, from the Worshiper,
when addressed as Allah, God, Yahweh, Vishnu,
or through the rhythms from a ceremonial log.

This surely has been … and, forever will be, so.

John-Michael

27 September 2010

The Gainseville Goon

I shudder with the chill of deeply instilled and reinforced embarrassment and shame at the behavior of this mental pygmy who parades his stupidity, and self-aggrandizing ignorance, before the entire world in today’s press.

My very personal response is born of many decades of living under the misguided tutelage of ill-educated, intellectually immature, and sectarian-biased men who exercised power and influence over the minds and lives of thousands of willing followers. Simply summarized … I lived in the hermetically-sealed sphere of a Southern Baptist. I am, as I write this, an ordained Southern Baptist Deacon. Yet … I smile!

My history is one of listening to the dire warnings (issued from the pulpit … with carefully selected biblical reference supports) that God would destroy the world if we trespassed into His domain with a space program … a visit from my pastor’s wife (to my place of employment) warning me of the dangers of dating a girl outside of our faith (she, obviously, was unaware of the extraordinary body that the girl in question was gifted with!) [silly grin] Even worse, the girl was reputed to be (brace yourself) a CATHOLIC! Oh my!! … extended meetings of the Congregation laboring over the fear-laced question of admitting Negros (they were neither ‘Blacks’ nor ‘African Americans’ at the time. Only “those Men who want to date your sister.” … and then, the Ultimate “straw that broke the proverbial back of the proverbial camel” … the declaration (made in an open address by the president of the Southern Baptist Convention) that “God does not hear the prayers of the Jews.” And here, for all of my lifetime, we had been taught that the Jews are “God’s chosen People.” Go figure!

Well, my Dear Friends, that ripped it for me. I just couldn’t imagine worshiping a deity that is hearing-impaired. So I have absented myself from religious services with those who continue in such pursuits, lest my presence cause dissension and/or conflict. (As you may well suspect … silent acquiescence is not my style.) [smile]

So, you can begin to imagine my gut-response to that tiny (as measured on my personal scale of significance) man’s rantings about his determination to have a “Qur’an burning” this week. Oh yes! My Spirit is well-conditioned to readiness for just such insanities. But … what to do to allay my disgust and revulsion?

It seems to me that the only rational and healthy response to ignorance and prejudice is education and an embracing of the Subject at hand. Towit: I went online and ordered (from Amazon.com) …

"The Qur'an (Oxford World's Classics Hardcovers)"
Muhammad A. S. Abdel Haleem

Let’s just see for ourselves what all of this fuss is all about.

The antics of the Idiot in Gainesville, Florida ... I leave to the influences and powers of Time and Eternity.

The "Why" Behind "The Cost"

Here, I am sharing a bit of a “peek” behind the veil of what You would usually know. It is customary for you to see whatever I post … and nothing of the pre-posting thought or considerations, nor any of the post-posting reflections. After publishing the little thing about “The Cost,” I was having a not-too-frequent moment of questioning. “Why” I asked myself, “do you even go into those ponderous areas of philosophical and oh-so-burdensome topics?” And (as has, so frequently, been the case) my precious Lady Muse delivered (in tangible and real-time form) Life’s answer to my frustrated uncertainties.

I (just a few hours ago) received a phone call from a Friend. She shared with me some updates of inconsequential and usual stuff about her life’s goings on … and then, as if in after-thought, something that rang the bell of my needed reassurance. She told me that she and her eldest son had read the “The Cost” piece … together. Then he and she went fishing … (He [who has no fondness for fishing … let alone the mandatory handling of those wriggling worms used for bait] caught five fish … she [who is an avid (if not maniacal) fisherwoman, caught none. (teehee) But I digress.) … and they, whilst in the leisurely enjoyment of five hours of midnight-to-five AM fishing, had a discussion of what they had read together. In the course of their discussion, she was delightfully reassured of her son’s grasp of his personal sense of responsibility, for seeing to it that he invest, all of himself, in living a life of full satisfaction, and enjoyment … through an awareness, and appreciation, of his innate gifts, and abilities.

This was a huge thing for her. For, in August, this son is to be off, to far-away Oklahoma, to pursue his post-graduate degrees in his chosen field. Knowing that he has such a firm grip on the foundational precepts of a personal responsibility, for a healthy, productive, and happy future, gives her a wonderful sense of comfort and peace.

“There!” my Lady Muse said. “There is your demonstration of Life’s loving wisdom in ,motivating you to share your thoughts and feelings in that piece. You took some of that ‘compost’ of your past … and let Life apply it around that developing young life. Ya done OK, John-Michael! Now lighten up!” And, I am thusly, quite nicely, reassured. Hence, I have had those nagging doubts and hesitations about my seeming propensity for writing about such “heavy” and cumbersome considerations, allayed. And, because I do enjoy making You, Dear reader, privy to all that is the Truth of who I am, and why I am … I am now sharing, with You, this peek into something of the “why” in my doing so.

And, as always, it is my intent to serve you well, as your faithful Friend, and ever-willing Servant.

Expressions Of Wonder

"When did we first try to express our sense of wonder?"

I don't know, it has been a while now.


"What brand and variety of Faith or belief System was it?"

I don't think that there were any Franchises established yet.

It was just between Us and the The Source.

IMAGE is the united Talent and Generosity of Jon Sullivan, PDPhoto.org

Eloquence

Far more eloquently than I could ever speak ... the Voices of Children, displaced by L'Aquila's recent earthquakes, ring, true and pure, the expressions of innocent, and genuine, Hope. "Out of the mouths of babes" come my loving Best Wishes, and Desires, for You, My Darling Friend.

Children evacuated from their homes in the L'Aquila,
area hung paintings reading "Happy Easter"
at a tent city. AFP/BBC

IMAGE: AFP/BBC

Kinship in Spirit

As I enjoyed the televised travel show … I was impressed with the ceaseless supplications transmitted by these Prayer Flags, on the pathway up to the Bhutan's Taktshang ("tiger's nest") monastery. I was glad for a better understanding of the concept of ongoing Prayers being carried heavenward on the bits of constantly-disintegrating fabrics. And, I was reminded of the scriptures’ “Pray without ceasing” admonition. In these Prayer Flags, I saw a physical manifestation of that directive. I find further personal enlightenment, in hearing the Commentator’s explanation of the Belief that each Individual achieves “higher Karma” through their commitment to climbing upward, in their arduous ascension toward the ‘Holy Site’ of this Monastery. And here I found a like Truth in “Take up your burden and follow …” as presented in so many various forms of exhortation, toward disciplined Discipleship, in scripture. I saw Unity in intent, purpose, and expression here.

My ‘virtual’ pilgrimage served (through the presentation by “Travel to the Edge”), to weave, yet more tightly, threads of Truth, into the Fabric of spiritual unity between Faiths. Truth, offered through the perspectives of authors of the Bible … in complete harmony with the very same Truth demonstrated in the utilization of these Prayer Flags placed by faithful followers of the Buddhist Faith. Both aware of some whispered inner Voice that communicates to them the Message that says, “It is good to always maintain a reverential and prayerful attitude toward that Power that created Us ... All." And Each responding, in methods and forms, in keeping with their particular worlds.

How beautiful is this demonstration of our kinship in spiritual awareness! And how blessed we are when we can accept personal growth and validation of our cultural and societal interpretations, and expressions of our individual spiritual sense … through one another’s shared methodologies. Prayers … whether expressed in whispered words, or bits of flags that send their messages heavenward … are one and the same. Our Souls’ expression of all that we know the need to render. Ever more clearly … we are Kin with each other. Or so it seems to my Understanding.


IMAGE: National Geographic Society

Celebrating Life's Banquet

I am having the most fun imaginable …
stealing Tidbits from my Future.

I am sneaking past the impediments of Now …
and sampling more.

More than what the Present would offer …
tiny portions of Then.

Awakened to the Truths of Time and Space …
I play with both.

-

I have witnessed the regrets of those
who have reached Dinner’s end.

Their eyes sad when the Meal’s
dessert Course is served.

Their longing for time to enjoy another serving
of an Appetizer …

Clouding their ability to celebrate the majesty
of Life’s Finishing Dish.

-

In response to Observation’s lessons,
I have learned to nibble ahead.

A small sip, of what we all know as,
our mortal Futures …

I savour Bliss, as a tease, with promise
of much more to come.

Visiting Time’s kitchen … I inhale
Eternity’s simmering fragrance.

-

Thus, I know neither fear nor trepidation
in awareness of Life’s Repast.

For I have learned the beauty of taking
some of Dessert’s sweetness …

Midst bites of my Main Course’s robust flavours.

Each Element of Life’s buffet … I allow to reside
in Memory, Anticipation, and Moment.

-

So, Dear, Fellow Diner, speak not to me
of dread, of Tomorrow.

Nor tell me of longing, for Yesterday.

For you are speaking to One who is
examining, tasting, and visiting …

All of My Banquet of Life … Past known …
and Future, gleefully sampled.

-



“Trust your Creator …
lean not, on your own Understandings.
In all of your Ways (Past, Present, and Future),
acknowledge the Truth that is in
All being by design …
and your path will be lovingly guided.”

The Book of Proverbs, Chapter 3, Verses 5 and 6
(Rendered in accordance with John-Michael’s Spirit)

Love's Creator

On the eighth day of April, of this year, I completed the sixty-second year of my personal pilgrimage on this silly little globe. Yes! I do see it as silly… inasmuch as I choose (often) to see the “realities” of life in my own contrarian way. As all about me are declaring the grandeur of our place in God’s firmament… I say “Not so!” For I am convinced that all that we now see… all that we perceive and understand… is but a fraction of what is. And that, My Dear Friend, I find exciting and inspiring. That there is so very much that I have no hint of. That beyond the elements of life that I am thrilled by (and there are many, many such elements… among them, You, as you read me now)… there are realities and worlds that are being born and completing their own cycles of life… without even the slightest of awareness of them, in my perception.

But I digress (as is often my way)… from my central thought of this day. And I would not navigate, today, from what has occupied my thinking for many years now… for I now feel confident enough in my understanding (and in my chronologically established right) to state what has pulled and tugged at my being all of that while. And that is, simply, that there is the Voice of… the message of… the intent of my Creator in every element of all that is. And all I need do, to know… to hear… to have a moment with the Voice of our Creator… is… to be willing. There is a portion of scripture that speaks to the “foolishness” of preaching… and puts in a healthy perspective what we have presented to us by all-to-human voices around us. Another that advises that “if they do not tell of Me… the rocks will speak of me.”… which I always remember when science discovers some new truth about our world’s past… from rocks, with their record of history sealed in their structures. And, for years now, I have read, listened, observed, felt, heard, and enjoyed the growing understanding within my core Being, that the One who Created all that is and maintains all in a beautifully choreographed dance of sublime perfection… withholds knowledge and intimate awareness of Him (if you will allow my use of a gender-specific identification of the One who created gender as we know it)… from… no one! Our Creator is transparent in every aspect of possible consideration… if I am but willing to know. To “be still… and know.”

It is my continual joy to see and hear and discover more about this life in (literally) every day of my life. I listen to what you say when you speak to me… and I not only hear the text of your message… but (because I am listening for it… because I am willing to hear it) I hear the texture of what you communicate to me. I hear the ‘music’ accompanying your lyrics. I sense the depth and breadth of the portrait that you paint… even while you intend only to give freedom to feelings and concerns that you have been wanting to make available to a caring ear. I learn from You as I learn from every source and force influencing my life. All because I am willing to know. I have adopted a lifestyle and adapted to a set of life-circumstances that permits me the luxury of taking whatever time necessary to stop and dwell on the tiniest of details of life. Because I want to understand… I have willed myself to understanding. And what I understand is, without the slightest of hesitations, that every culture… every society… every people of every place in time and locale… has had available to them the insights and understandings to know all that they want to or are able to know about our Creator and the omnipotent Love that governs our very existence… at every level… past, present, and most certainly through whatever Eternity is.

What has served as catalyst for my stating what is my personal conviction and knowledge, is the present (though certainly not new) state of discord in our world… which exists primarily as a direct result of sectarian ‘religious’ influences. Power Centers that use as their ’justification’ some ridiculous idea that they and they alone have an exclusive franchise on access to the One who created us all… equally. Equal in our ability to hear the Voice speaking out the messages of the rocks. Equal in our abilities to exercise our will in accepting or rejecting the influences of ego, greed, avarice, pride, and hate… as well as charity, forgiveness, humility, generosity and love. Equal in our abilities to nurture and care for each other and bind the wounds inflicted by circumstances of all sorts.

The Creator of all of us has no ’brand name’… no stylish ’logo’ that is a registered stamp of authenticity. We were created before the existence of any of these nonsensical marketing organizations that sell their religious product under labels of protectionist divisiveness… be they operating from mosques, churches, temples, teepees, huts, or under trees. What they are marketing is what has been and will always be before them and after them. And their performance of the illustrative play that tells the eternal tale, is just as it was well before recorded history. A play that has its script spoken through the spirit of EVERY person who has ever been. A script that is the Voice within each breast of each willing listener. And it is the purest folly to make feeble attempts to literal-ize the play performed as a human expression of that script… that individually realized spiritual understanding… and played out in the scriptures of each particular culture and society in the costumes, in terms of the customs, in the language and dialect of the peoples to whom that truth is revealed. For even the most cursory of studies will readily reveal the absolute fact that from the earliest of cave carvings through the recordings of Mayans, Native Tribes of all the world, Far Eastern, Middle Eastern, European, and Western worlds… all have always had at their core… the very same script… the same revelations… the same myths, the same stories and legends, all the same! And the only denominator common to all of them… is their shared Creator… Who has always whispered truth into the ear of every willing soul… individually.

So, My Dear Friend… with this understanding at my core… you can see why I am distressed and saddened by all that we are inflicting upon each other in our world today. And all under some variation of a flag of religious, sectarian, legitimacy. Such a foolish waste! I prefer to “listen to the rocks.” I enjoy hearing the song of nature that awakens each day and serenades the world with reassurances that are consistently there… for all who will but be willing to listen. It is my personal choice to respect and find common ground for understanding with every soul that Life allows me to meet. I celebrate and find delight in learning new variations in the performing of my Creator’s script as presented in other belief practices. I have, indeed, put on my very own set of ’blinders’ that shut out conflict… and, instead, focus my gaze on harmonies. For, My Dear and patient Reader… I am absolutely convinced of the overriding truth of one of the very earliest of scriptures taught to me… “God is Love.”

Life's 'Handiwork' ... It IsWell

There is, today, a great deal of “Hoo-Ha” over this business of “God or No God.” There is animosity, conflict, hatred, division, and even killing, over the name ascribed to One’s chosen deity.

I have been invited by Cesar (my ‘adopted,’ Gift from Life, Spirit-Son) to go to see the new comedy/satire movie “Religulous” this coming weekend. And I am looking forward to an enriching exchange of intimate conversation with him after we share that experience.

I had a conversation with a dear Friend a couple of days ago. And her dread and fear of these being the prophesied “Last Days” … trumpeting the arrival of “The Great Tribulation Period” … was palpable. I listened and respectfully offered what reassurances I could.

So, My dear Reader, in light of these surfacing concerns and interests. I will give you a hint of how I think and feel about the whole question.

Though I have neither a determining say nor any influence over the eternal truths that are none of my personal/practical business … I have a sweet and comfortable confidence in the “I Am” at the genesis of all that we can see displayed in these photos from the Hubble Telescope.

The marvels of generating energies at the center of every galaxy (known as “Black Holes”), and the intricacies illustrated in the wondrous balance of all of these incomprehensible exercises in power and infinite control … all mesh beautifully with the still, small, intimate whisperings of my inner Spirit … and give me a constant sense of complete rest and assurance … that all is in order and well in “hands” far more worthy of trust than any of my feeble concerns could ever deserve.

So, My Darling One, rest, with me, in the spirit of that old song that conveys the gentleness of rhythm and chord that I enjoy … and let your Spirit sing along with mine in the harmonies of “It Is Well With My Soul.”

“The Heavens declare the glory of God; and the Firmament sheweth His handiwork.” [1st verse of the 19th chapter of the book of PSALMS.] (How cool is that? It’s all just “Life’s Handiwork.” [loving smile])

I bid you “Peace,” and “Namaste.”

Photos: (with my sincere “Thank You” to Carole for her Email with the Gift of “the Top 10 Hubble Pictures.”) Top to bottom.

The Sombrero Galaxy - 28 million light years from Earth - was voted best picture taken by the Hubble telescope. The dimensions of the galaxy, officially called M104, are asmspectacular as its appearance It has 800 billion suns and is 50,000 light years across.

The Ant Nebula, a cloud of dust and gas whose technical name is Mz3, resembles an ant when observed using ground-based telescopes... The nebula lies within our galaxy between 3,000 and 6,000 light years from Earth.

In third place is Nebula NGC 2392, called "Eskimo" because it looks like a face surrounded by a furry hood. The hood is, in fact, a ring of comet-shaped objects flying away from a dying star. Eskimo is 5,000 light years from Earth.

At four is the Cat's Eye Nebula.

The Hourglass Nebula, 8,000 light years away, has a "pinched-in-the-middle" look because the winds that shape it are weaker at the centre.

In sixth place is the Cone Nebula. The part pictured here is 2.5 light years in length (the equivalent of 23 million return trips to the Moon).

The Perfect Storm, a small region in the Swan Nebula, 5,500 light years away, described as 'a bubbly ocean of hydrogen and small amounts of oxygen, sulphur and other elements'.

Starry Night, so named because it reminded astronomers of the Van Gogh painting. It is a halo of light around a star in the Milky Way.

The glowering eyes from 114 million light years away are the swirling cores of two merging galaxies called NGC 2207 and IC 2163 in the distant Canis Major constellation.

The Trifid Nebula. A 'stellar nursery', 9,000 light years from here, it is where new stars are being born.

An Alternative View

In the course of the past week, I have had two, of the dearest people in my life, ask me heart-felt questions borne of similar circumstances in their respective lives. I have, separately, and individually, responded to each as my Lovely Muse has directed and encouraged me to. But, as we know all too well from past experience, She does not allow any matter of Life and living to pass away without lingering consideration and lessons. So, my Dear (and persevering) Reader, I share what continues to inhabit my mind with You.

Both of my lovely Friends are lamenting, and seeking healthy and constructive ways to deal with, the insidious (though quite natural) ravages of time and wear on the health and lives of Parents. It seems that both of these Parental Figures are frustrated and discouraged with their respective health problems. And their Spirits have lost what had been, heretofore, joyous and enthusiastic outlooks and attitudes. My one Friend asked for help in “finding” her Mother. She is seeking a way to recapture and breathe new vigour into the energy levels and perceptual powers of her Mom. She is saddened by the presence of a wearied and dispirited woman who was “only yesterday” a font of liveliness and creative intensity. My second Friend asked that I suggest a way for her to help her Dad (who, as a result of several recent strokes and the onset of Alzheimer’s disease, is not faring well) to find a renewed and invigorated Faith and sense of imminent Wellness.

Though I offered completely separate, and seemingly different ideas to these two caring and loving Daughters, I am, now, seeing a harmony in the theme of what I brought to them. To the first, I suggested activities that would engage the Daughter, the Grandchildren, and the Mother in exercises of revisiting and celebrating memories of past moments of enjoyment and accomplishment … while recording them in some tangible forms that would provide an indelible record of and resource for revisiting the memories. To the second Daughter, I brought the thought of bringing her Dad a new and fresh view of his life and circumstance through eyes and perspectives of others (including the Daughter) who have a concrete and realistic awareness of Beauties and Possibilities, stolen (by the pains and disconsolations of his illness) from her Father.

And, I now realize that I have suggested, to both of these exceptional women … the same basic thing. A different way of sensing Life’s elements. See it all differently. Guide your Loved One in discovering the Optional (for it is readily available … at our option) Awareness. Smell the Fragrance that is hidden behind the stench of the Obvious. Feel the Comforts that lie behind the curtain of Pain’s insistence. Engage in all that seems repugnant and worthy of discard. I am suggesting something that runs contrary to all that seems natural and “normal.” Embrace these aspects of Life and Living! For they are natural and worthy of respectful consideration. Just see the beauty that is hidden in their potentials. Do not allow the ultimate Monster of Fear to cripple your steps along this part of Life’s pathway. Know the victory of pushing away Fear’s blinders … to permit Life to illuminate new vistas.

I know that my enthusiastic enjoyment of the fragrance of the pungency of decaying organic matter … would seem to be strange (at the very best … if not, weird) to those who are ‘turned off’ by what they consider the stench of “rot.” But I find encouragement in the magic of Life’s reminder that nothing passes away without offering new life, in the form of composted nourishment, through the “passing away” of what was Before. So, I find genuine enjoyment in walking through bogs and swamplands. And the fragrance of that “passing away” is the nectar of new life and rebirth.

Whilst I listen to others of my generation bemoaning the loss of their former levels of physical and emotional abilities … I relish the wonder of the “fermentation” of my past experiences and circumstances into what I have determined to transform into a “vintage” that will give satisfaction and joys to any who wish to spend a moment savouring my presentation of the elixir of my experiential brew. All of those fresh elements of past happenings have far more worth and merit as they are distilled in vats of time and perspective. And I have chosen to celebrate them not as something lost … but as something turned into the fine wine of new worth. I get a nice buzz off of what my past has created. [grin] Don’t you see, My Dear reader? It is a simple matter of accepting the readily available “eyes” of Life … instead of the popular offering of our world’s more common view … death. I choose Light over Darkness.

So, this is what I suggested to my two remarkable Friends. I was offering the idea that they might find some ways to invite their Loved Ones out onto the balcony of new vistas and views … offer them a glass of a refreshing beverage distilled from lovely memories and delightful experiences … and have an intimate celebration of the wonder that is Life. Life as it is … right now … and right here … built on and made up of all of the magnificent collection of all of those harvested and fermented experiences and circumstances. This is what is available to each of us … if only we choose to make it so.

And it is just that simple … a matter of choice. Energized and brought to bear with a bit of applied effort. For, don’t you know, effort is required. This is not something that is presented on a platter of convenience. We do not hear any frequent voices of encouragement to see and hear Life’s possibilities. For, alas, all the world about us is voicing the same song of discouragement and despair. So, effort and creative energy is required … but more than well worth all that is invested. I promise!

Impatient Child

Please do not allow yourself to be fooled by the white beard. I ask that you disregard the vocabulary and all that would seem to be unwavering confidence. For I must, in all candor, let you see the truth. There is a part of who I am that is yet, an impatient child. Yes … ‘tis all too true. And I can give you an example of my childlike impatience.

It was in the early morning … dawn had yet to declare itself fully. And I was about my business of considering the significance of life … all of life … and my own individual life as well. I was engaged in a dialogue with the distinct (yet silent to the ear) Voice of Life … as It whispered to my Soul.

You might ask (as many have, well before our time) what language Life speaks in. And I can bear witness to the fact that Life speaks to each of us (in whatever country ... continent ... or nation we inhabit) in whatever linguistic form and style we are receptive to … and open to hearing. Testimony to that truth can be heard in Life’s response to my articulated question on that morning … several years ago. “What is all of this for? Where am I going? To what end is all of the accumulated experience, that I have known?” I queried. And Life responded, not in a dialect familiar to the King James version of scriptures. Nor in any rhythmic rhyme of homiletic agreement.

Life responded in a language … and a form, that delivered Its Truth as a key, that is intricately designed to satisfy the discriminating requirements, of one particular lock. Just as distinctly as any declaration made, by any other companion, in any moment of my life … Life said (gently and softly) “None of your damn business.” And I stopped the van, that I was delivering newspapers from … and laughed. Out loud and with neither hesitation, nor doubt … I laughed with Life. And I understood.

It is all about Trust. Belief and confident faith in Life is what it all revolves around. And if I have that Faith … if I am confident in Life’s worthiness of my trust … knowing where the path is ultimately leading, is, indeed “none of my damn business.” Hence, I have been completely comfortable with all of the bumps, detours, hurdles, and challenges that I encounter … as I faithfully exercise my confident faith, in Life, to tend to whatever Purpose, my living may serve. And it is a wonderfully enjoyable place … that my Soul rests in.

I do, genuinely, live in accordance with the scriptural lesson taught in the fifth and sixth verses of the third chapter of the Book of Proverbs, as it says (to my Heart) “Trust in Me with all of your Heart, John-Michael, and lean not on your own understandings. In all of your ways, acknowledge Me … and I will direct your paths.” And that, My Darling reader, is all that I need to know about “Life’s meaning.” That is everything that I require for my personal GPS guidance in living. I highly commend it to you. That ... guided by Love ... does it for me. (And quiets my inner, “impatient Child.”)

Good Morning John

“Stately.” That is what he was. When John walked out to the street in the pre-dawn stillness, his Presence was simply “stately.” And I always greeted him with a “Good morning John.”

A man in his late seventies or early eighties, he moved rather serenely down his drive to deliver his gracious “Hello” and accept the morning newspaper from me. Clothed in his sleeping attire, with proper bath-robe and slippers, all about him was consistently in perfect order … collar set straight, robe tied with sash. A perfect Gentleman in appearance, and, always, in demeanor.

He frequently reminded me that he came out to get the paper for his Bride of many decades. And the pride and satisfaction in his announcement of his mission made clear his joy in knowing a blissful oneness with his beloved. He liked his wife! My “Good morning John” moment became something that I eagerly anticipated each morning.

Then, quite suddenly, he died. I was informed of his passing by his frail and totally distraught wife when she appeared one morning. “I want you to know how much John admired you.” she said. “And how he looked forward to your brief visits on the mornings when he was able to time his going out to coincide with your delivery. He liked that a lot.”

When I came to her house, the next day, I opted to pull my van into her driveway instead of driving by and tossing the paper onto the concrete as usual. I drove as close to the front door as possible, and tossed the newspaper up against its threshold. I knew that john would want it to be as convenient for her retrieval as possible. As I did so, I was aware of John’s approving Presence. And I said (aloud) “Good morning John.” Then, in response to the acute impression that was mine, I responded “You are quite welcome, My Friend.”

This became my daily ritual. Without variance or failing, John’s Presence was tangibly known to my senses. And I continued, as I had before his bodily departure, to look forward to, and enjoy exchanging my “Good morning John” for his Spirit’s greeting. Until that day. The day when I drove to the customary spot … and following the toss of the newspaper, I caught myself in an instant of awareness. I stopped … and took in the strange, still, emptiness of the place. I said nothing, for I was distinctly aware that John was not there. Just as clearly as any physical absence, the absence of his Spirit was profound. And I knew. She was gone. She no longer needed him there. They were gone. I missed them sorely.

Two days later, my knowledge was confirmed by a notice on the community message board. Condolences expressed to her family from the Homeowners Association. I simply nodded my head, as I passed the sign, in affirmation of what I had known for two days.

If you were to ask me if I believe in Spirits, and/or Souls, I would deliver, to you, the same response that Joseph Campbell gave to Bill Moyers in their famous and oft-replayed and re-printed interview that constitutes the majority of “The Power of Myth.” When asked if he was “a Believer” Campbell replied, “No.” “No, I am not a believer,” Campbell explained, “for a Believer is One who has agreed to accept some idea or concept offered, as fact. I have an intimate personal experience with the tenants of what to others is a matter of faith. So, I answer to you, ‘No I am not a Believer … for I am Experienced.' And the experience negates the need for belief.”

So, I say to you, Dear Friend, “No, I am not a Believer in Spirits and Souls.” For, you see, I have just related but one of several personal and intimately embraced experiences in my life that take me from a “Believer” to “Experienced.”



(This account is but one, of many to come, that are the fruits of twenty years invested in service to the residents of the Lake Forest community. My job having been terminated in the process of corporate downsizing and organizational restructuring, I find myself reflecting on a wealth of lovely and enjoyable experiences known over the course of those years. I do hope that you find this one story to be of some interest and/or benefit to you.)

It Is Well ...

When Peace, like a river, attendeth my way...

It is well, it is well, with my Soul.

Text from the hymn It Is Well With My Soul, Horatio G. Spafford (1873)
IMAGE through the gracious courtesy of Ian Britton, FreeFoto.com

"Saved Alone"

I want to thank Lime for her reminding me of the significance of this story behind the hymn "It Is Well With My Soul." I located this well-presented version of the story and offer it (in a post-time altered sequence to fit the flow of today's "happenings.")

It Is Well With My Soul

Written by Horatio G. Spafford
Music by Philip Bliss

When peace like a river attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea-billows roll,
Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to know,
"It is well, it is well with my soul."

Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,
Let this blest assurance control,
That Christ hath regarded my helpless estate,
And hath shed his own blood for my soul.

My sin - oh, the bliss of this glorious thought!
My sin - not in part but the whole,
Is nailed to His cross and I bear it no more;
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, oh, my soul.

And, Lord, haste the day when the faith shall be sight,
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll,
The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend-
Even so - it is well with my soul.

"Saved Alone"
The History behind the Hymn
by Author: James Mumford

This hymn was written by a Chicago lawyer, Horatio G. Spafford. You might think to write a worship song titled, 'It is well with my soul', you would indeed have to be a rich, successful Chicago lawyer. But the words, "When sorrows like sea billows roll ... It is well with my soul”, were not written during the happiest period of Spafford's life. On the contrary, they came from a man who had suffered almost unimaginable personal tragedy.

Horatio G. Spafford and his wife, Anna, were pretty well-known in 1860’s Chicago. And this was not just because of Horatio's legal career and business endeavors. The Spaffords were also prominent supporters and close friends of Dwight.L. Moody, the famous preacher. In 1870, however, things started to go wrong. The Spaffords' only son was killed by scarlet fever at the age of four. A year later, it was fire rather than fever that struck. Horatio had invested heavily in real estate on the shores of Lake Michigan. In 1871, every one of these holdings was wiped out by the great Chicago Fire.

Aware of the toll that these disasters had taken on the family, Horatio decided to take his wife and four daughters on a holiday to England. And, not only did they need the rest -- DL Moody needed the help. He was traveling around Britain on one of his great evangelistic campaigns. Horatio and Anna planned to join Moody in late 1873. And so, the Spaffords traveled to New York in November, from where they were to catch the French steamer 'Ville de Havre' across the Atlantic. Yet just before they set sail, a last-minute business development forced Horatio to delay. Not wanting to ruin the family holiday, Spafford persuaded his family to go as planned. He would follow on later. With this decided, Anna and her four daughters sailed East to Europe while Spafford returned West to Chicago. Just nine days later, Spafford received a telegram from his wife in Wales. It read: "Saved alone."

On November 22nd 1873, the 'Ville de Havre' had collided with 'The Lochearn', an English vessel. It sank in only 12 minutes, claiming the lives of 226 people. Anna Spafford had stood bravely on the deck, with her daughters Annie, Maggie, Bessie and Tanetta clinging desperately to her. Her last memory had been of her baby being torn violently from her arms by the force of the waters. Anna was only saved from the fate of her daughters by a plank which floated beneath her unconscious body and propped her up. When the survivors of the wreck had been rescued, Mrs. Spafford's first reaction was one of complete despair. Then she heard a voice speak to her, "You were spared for a purpose." And she immediately recalled the words of a friend, "It's easy to be grateful and good when you have so much, but take care that you are not a fair-weather friend to God."

Upon hearing the terrible news, Horatio Spafford boarded the next ship out of New York to join his bereaved wife. Bertha Spafford (the fifth daughter of Horatio and Anna born later) explained that during her father's voyage, the captain of the ship had called him to the bridge. "A careful reckoning has been made", he said, "and I believe we are now passing the place where the de Havre was wrecked. The water is three miles deep." Horatio then returned to his cabin and penned the lyrics of his great hymn.

The words which Spafford wrote that day come from 2 Kings 4:26. They echo the response of the Shunammite woman to the sudden death of her only child. Though we are told "her soul is vexed within her", she still maintains that 'It is well." And Spafford's song reveals a man whose trust in the Lord is as unwavering as hers was.

Source: Equipped magazine, Vineyard Churches UK



I do hope that You, My Dear Reader, will, like myself and so many others over the years, find a moment’s Respite, Encouragement, and Peace in this account.

A Moment With God

A young Boy wanted to meet God. He knew it could be a long trip to where God lived, so he packed his suitcase with Twinkies and a six-pack of Root beer and he started his journey.

When he had gone about three blocks, he met an Old Man. He was sitting in the park just staring at some pigeons. The Boy sat down next to him and opened his suitcase. He was about to take a drink from his root beer when he noticed that the Old Man looked hungry, so he offered him a Twinkie.

The Man gratefully accepted it and smiled at the Boy. His smile was so pleasant that the Boy wanted to see it again, so he offered him a root beer. Again, the grateful Man smiled at him. The boy was delighted! They sat there all afternoon eating and smiling, but they never said a word.

As it grew dark, the Boy realized how tired he was and he got up to leave, but before he had gone more than a few steps, he turned around, ran back to the Old Man, and gave him a hug. Whereupon, the Man gave him his biggest smile ever.

When the boy opened the door to his own house a short time later, his mother was surprised by the look of joy on his face. She asked him, "What did you do today that made you so happy?"

He replied, "I had lunch with God." But before his mother could respond, he added, "You know what? He's got the most beautiful smile I've ever seen!"

Meanwhile, the Old Man, also radiant with joy, returned to his home. His son was stunned by the look of peace on his face and he asked, "Dad, what'd you do today that made you so happy?"

He replied, "I ate Twinkles in the park with God." However, before his son responded, he added, "You know, he's much younger than I expected."

Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around. People come into our lives for a reason, a season, or a lifetime. Embrace all equally!


__________________________________
Please note, My Friend, that this little item is NOT of my creation ... nor is this the first time that I have presented it here. Lady Muse said, this morning, "Some One is waiting for THIS." So, I have offered it, again, for that 'Some One' (or Ones.) In doing so, I am reminded of the first scripture that I learned as a small child, "God is Love."

This was originally, in fact, sent to me by a loving friend (via e-mail.) a good while ago. But I believe it to be worthy of passing along to you with all due gratitude to its unknown Author. (Because I subscribe to all of the Truth that it presents so simply, and picturesquely.) I do, however, know the source of the 'IMAGE.'

God (Love) bless You today, My Darling Friend.

IMAGE courtesy of Ian Britton, FreeFoto.com

The Stream of Life

I trust the Stream of life. The flow that begins at some point before my knowledge and goes beyond the limits of my awareness. I am confident in the perfect balance, purpose, and harmony of life’s flow. It accumulates all that joins it and carries all to an appropriate end. The fallen leaves of Autumn; the blossoms of Spring; the bits of ice in the Winter … just as the circumstances, events, challenges, and blessings of our individual lives … all, in their own season and appropriate to their nature, fall into the flow of life and are carried to their fitting purpose. All under Life’s control.

So it is with the items that I write and publish. I have, in this, and other venues, composed thoughts and transmitted them with a singular understanding that it was necessary for me to do so. I simply and trustingly responded to that “Still Small Voice” within my spirit … that “Muse”, if you will, that gives all of us a quiet, yet clear understanding of what we are to say … or do ... at a particular time and in a specific place. And, Dear Reader, this is the Source of what you have seen, thus far, and will see hereafter in this little vehicle … this BLOG.

The reward and validation that I enjoy is the response from the One for whom the message has merit and meaning. The “How did you know?”, or "Just what I needed." that comes from One whose need, desire, or conflict I was completely unaware of, but was known to the Source of my Lady Muse. Life provides a dynamic, all encompassing, and reliable flow that carries those of us who are willing to participate. And I am.

Hence, you will see some articles written long ago and some penned in the current time. I am simply listening to, and flowing with, the stream of Life’s direction. (And happy to have you along.)



(IMAGE: Courtesy of FREEIMAGE.co.uk )

How It Works ... For Us All

Just this morning ...

I was singing … belting out the music and considering each word to “What a Wonderful World” (Yes, the same one that is playing each time that You visit this site. Though I have heard it many times, I still cling to its truths and the spirit of its melody.) Driving in the comfortable stillness of pre-dawn darkness, I was assembling, bagging, and tossing from the window of my van, this morning’s edition of the Wall Street Journal, and The Tampa Tribune … all the while singing that song … right out loud, and without any reservation.

Then I saw the vehicle coming down the street … and knew from the many times prior, who it was and what his destination was. So, I paused in my routine, and pulled into his driveway behind him. In a moment, he came up to my window and greeted me. “How Ya doin’ Bub?” He opened with his usual brusque yet warm demeanor. "Everything going OK?” (I knew that he asked this because of his awareness that, after twenty years of delivering newspapers to his neighborhood, I have been notified that my delivery route is being merged with another … and I will soon be without work.) “I’m doing well, My Friend. One day at a time … just like they are served up to us … You know.” I replied. “And how goes it with your business?" I asked. “Well, you knew that I retired? Didn’t I tell you?” he asked. “Why no … you didn’t, in fact. How did that come to pass?"

“Well, last June I was getting ready for work, as usual, when the phone rang. It was the son of my best friend, and partner of twenty-six years, on the phone. ‘Dad won’t be in to work today’ he said. ‘Oh, and why’s that?’ I asked him. ‘Because Dad died last night.’ was his reply. Well, after the wake, all the flowers, and all that … I gave it some thought … and decided that there is more to life than all that business and work. I was leaving Her (he gave his head a side-way nod to indicate that “Her” was in the house.) alone every day. And she deserves more than that. So I retired. And now I am here for her and fix her lunch every day.”

I knew some of his “Her” story. She is his drug-addiction-devastated daughter. And this Korean War vintage, US Marine Corps veteran, of battles too horrible to recount … this now-retired Steel Worker, of rugged and severe career background … this brusque and crustily veneered man, who I have never seen in any garb that is not starched, pressed to perfection, and spotless … whose every element is always in ’perfect order’ and ’ship-shape’ … took his daughter in, and adopted her children to raise himself in order that they might have a stable and caring home. I knew this.

This is a man who waved me down from his passing vehicle a couple of mornings ago, and told me that he had phoned “some nice lady at the Tribune” the week before “and told her that she had a great guy on this route.” And that “he (meaning me) is the only reason that I get the Tribune.” And that “if he wasn’t treated right in this route-merging business … well she could take her Tribune and put it where the sun don’t shine.” (He then told me that had this “nice woman” not been so nice … and a lady … he would have told her to shove the Tribune up ____ well you get the idea. I told you … he is a crusty and seasoned man of neither frills nor niceties.)

After a bit of inquiry I determined that the “Nice Woman” who he had spoken so eloquently with was none other than the Publisher/President of The Tampa Tribune. He took this revelation with a shrug of indifference.

So now, Dear reader and Friend, you have the “stage” set. And now I can share with you a bit of how wonderful it is to live in harmony with the Voice of Life … that Still, Small, Voice within … my Lady Muse, so oft referred to. For, as this most-manly of men, Man finished his few words of description of his commitment to “my Little One” (as he referred to his daughter), I said “You have done well, My Friend. You listened to this (and I repeatedly pointed to my Heart … for One does not use words like ‘Heart’ to a man as unsentimental as this), and ‘this’ lasts far beyond the failure of ‘this’” (and I shook with one hand my other arm … indicating ‘the body’ … for One doesn’t speak of physical things to this sort of Man.) “Yeah! You’re right!” he said, “and it matters ‘up there’ (he pointed heavenward) too.” Then he extended his hand to shake mine. It was not a quick hand-shake. It was a firm, yet gentle “hand-hug.” And tears were in his eyes. “I love You, My Friend!” I spoke, “I do really love You.” he nodded, turned, and went into his garage. Then with a wipe of his eyes, entered the door from the garage into his home.

This is how it works, Dear One. How Being available to Life’s leading gives opportunity to Be the One Voice that Life can use to let such a man … One who is so staunchly committed to his habits and rituals … know that He is loved. Life … God … Heaven … Allah … The Creator, The Almighty … whatever identity label suites your place of belief and/or understanding, wants to communicate Love to us … the Created … the individual and wondrously unique Creatures that we so beautifully are. And You and I have the opportunity to do just what Satchmo was singing with me this morning. We can make this … Our World … more Wonderful … by simply Being willing to say what Life wants to have said … “I love You, My Friend. I REALLY do love YOU.”

NAMASTE